I was invited by a dear friend, Ravi, to visit his native country of India, for the occasion of his arranged marriage. The trip turned out to be one of the most delightful events of my life. Ravi is a perfect traveling companion, as almost nothing seems to faze him.


Ravi's mom and brother (not shown) greeted us in Delhi and took us to a hotel so we could sleep that first night. His mom was very anxious to see her long-lost son after several years apart, and make last-minute wedding preparations. We put her on the train the next day back to Varanasi while we headed north from Uttar Pradesh into Punjab and Himachal Pradesh.


We headed from Delhi to Chandigarh, then to Shimla, supposedly the resort and honeymoon capital of northern India. There were several trains that travel from the Chandigarh area to Shimla; we happened to catch the romantic one-car lover's train to take us there. I wondered out loud to Ravi whether anyone thought he and I were on our honeymoon trip, and he quickly moved a seat behind me.


This is a view to the west from our hotel room, into the mountains. From the plains of Delhi up into the mountains, it sure felt cold here. Very beautiful though.


We met a kindly woman, Chris, originally from England, on the bus from Mandi to Manali, who invited us to her little house for tea. She was an expert in producing Tibetan Bhuddist tapestries. Alpna is a friend from Manali but studying in the south.


On our way from Manali to Amritsar, Punjab, we stopped in Dharamshala for a night to visit the Tibetan government in exile in India. This sad testament to the decimation of a culture and a people is truly beyond belief, no matter what you think of the Tibetans or their culture. Although the Tibetans living here appear to live life "as normal", I felt a real sadness on the part of the Tibetans knowing that their homeland is no longer theirs due to the Chinese occupation that began in 1949.


I felt immediately at home in Amritsar, Punjab, because I had studied some Punjabi in university, had taught many Punjabis how to drive in Canada, and had visited the Gurdwara many times. Characteristic of the Sikh esteem for others, Ravi and I were put up in the temple housing immediately adjacent to the Temple and on the grounds. The accomodations and hospitality were palatial!


Back in Varanasi, I had the privelege of traveling across town to meet Ravi's bride-to-be, Bobbi, during some of the preparations. Ravi's sisters arranged for Bobbi's hands to be painted with henna, which is a long-standing tradition in most eastern cultures where the henna (camphire) plant/tree grows, including the Jewish culture. Bobbi is stunningly beautiful, and I couldn't wait to tell Ravi about his new bride!

At the wedding, I was sat down across from Bobbi during the actual ceremony, and asked to put a lei around her neck, hand her spices, and various other things. I had no idea what was being done. After that part of the ceremony, I was shuffled to the back of the room where an uncle approached me to see if I knew what just happened. After I responded "no", he informed me with a grin that I had just married Bobbi! He explained that in the Hindu custom when a man is getting married, his elder brother first marries the bride into the family, then passes her off to his younger brother. When there is no elder brother, another family member or close friend (in this case me) takes the role of the elder brother. The uncle then informed me very seriously that I must never touch Bobbi because of the danger of infidelity.


After the wedding, a feast ensued at Ravi's house. The house was hand-decorated with what must have been thousands of flowers. It was gorgeous. Many people came and went, all of whom seemed to be related somehow to Ravi or Bobbi. Gudia, Ravi's sister (on the left), and Reema, his cousin (on the right), ensured that I wasn't left alone for the evening. Reema speaks excellent English and was able to translate for me.


After Ravi's wedding, Ravi's sisters (Somi, Nitu, and Gudia) thought I might be a cute stand-in for Bobbi. So they gussied me up, put me on Ravi's bed, turned the lights off, and called Ravi in for his honeymoon initiation. I managed to plant a kiss on Ravi's cheek before he discovered the ruse and ran out of the room cursing his sisters. And me.

I really enjoyed that event for the simple reason that although Ravi's sisters and I had a difficult time communicating (I spoke thori thori Hindi!) and they spoke little English, I discovered that mischeviousness and a grand desire to play jokes crosses all cultural barriers!