Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Let the wedding festivities begin

Jet lag 1, Uzma 0. The last two days have gone by in a blur. I have to think for a moment before I can process what time of day it is, let alone the day of the week. The sleep deprivation is slowly starting to eat me alive. Despite my relatively early bedtime last night, I was woken up about 4 am by what sounded like a dog involved in a solo fight for an hour. By the time I heard the last yelp, the calls to prayer had begun. Of course, as a Muslim, these are beautiful to hear. But what confuses me is why there was like a thirty minute pause between them. Isn't there like science and stuff to determine precisely when the sun rises? So then when the calls subsided, I thought for sure I could finally fall asleep, despite the sunlight creeping in through the windows. But alas, the crows took their kawing. I must've fallen asleep around 9 am, just an hour before I was awoken to begin the day.

My cousin's actual wedding is tomorrow, so my aunt's house has been a machine, trying to not only get ready for the karaoke dinner party tonight, but the wedding itself. The house has been bustling with flower arrangements, chair cushions, outdoor tents, and boxes of Pakistani sweets called mithai.

Flower arrangements for the wedding done by my oldest cousin.



Tenting.


I went to get a manicure today. The salon was run by a woman named Ayesha Liang. I'll let you process that example of globalization. It was a bit different from what I'm used to, but hey, at least my nails are painted. Never mind that they've already started chipping. I tried to pay with old currency I brought over with me, since I haven't had the time to exchange money. Apparently money in Pakistan has an expiration date?

One of the things I can't get over is how different regional dialects are from one another. One of the drivers (yes, it's customary for people of means to have chauffeurs in Pakistan, and no, he's nothing like Branson) was speaking in a language that sounded completely alien to me. Turned out to be something from "up north", Pashto. Speaking of language, my Urdu is getting better, but I still sound like an ignorant Texan pronouncing the double "l"s in quesadilla.

Today also involved meeting with lots of family I haven't seen in a decade. Aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. That's what I love about getting together for weddings. You can have your ups and downs, and lose touch for months and even years when it comes to family, but they'll still always be your family. They still pinch your cheeks, call you out on your weight gain (yes, again), criticize the way you wear your hair, and call you by embarrassing nicknames you just wished they'd retire already.

I said to myself a while ago that Farah's wedding would be the last time I'd set foot in this country. And I know it's only been two days, but I like having a mother country to visit. It reinforces my heritage, and the quirks and the endearing qualities of my people. But then again, I don't know if my stomach has had an adequate opportunity to process what's been eaten.

Food check: Yellow vegetable curry, mithai
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