Inside the hotel, guests were still arriving and during this time the bride had to change dresses. Throughout the ceremony, she would change dresses no less than 3 times. I couldn’t really keep track, but one was red of course, and one was very shiny, in blinding oncoming traffic if it’s sunny outside kind of way. The guests all came, and went in through the main door, conveniently next to the “red envelope” deposit station. We, the wedding party were to come in through a different door. No it would not be a secret trap door in the floor that slowly rose up with all kinds of dry ice smoke to the theme song of Mortal Kombat playing over the PA. It was just a regular door that I busted down after being introduced by the MC.

Inside, there was about 120 people, average size for a modern Chinese wedding, but not by any means undrinkable. The bride and groom then had all kinds of things to do on stage, like saying their oaths, exchanging rings, the kiss, a toast, cutting the cake, ritualistic goat sacrifice, etc. It was a cocktail of all the official stuff that would happen in a church in the west, combined with some of the traditions of a western wedding’s reception. Luckily for me and the bridesmaid, we didn’t have to do dick all during the lot of it. Knowing that, I was on another planet, defending hapless beauties from ill-tempered apes.

Finally after all the formalities, lunch started to make it’s way to our plates. There was all kinds of things, some of it I might have even considered eating, had I not been under the impression that I was going to need room in my stomach for approximately 100 ounces of some form of alcohol. Drinking on an empty stomach, that’s the way to do it kids.

I did try a few things, one being a sea cucumber. For the uninitiated, sea cucumbers are famous in China for having many health a vigour inducing properties. They are ridiculously expensive. The truth is that they are slimy oblong objects that are coated with spikes. Imagine a piece of poo trying by voodoo witchcraft to transform itself into a porcupine, but by some infernal flaw, failing halfway. That’s what they look like. And let me tell you, they look a lot better than they taste. I only know because I was urged to try it by the groom. I ate approximately 1/10th of the little bastard before I started to choke to death. That wasn’t enough though, he insisted I eat the whole thing. I made it to half, before I considered my health, and the hotel’s carpets, and I promptly buried the remaining piece under a tomb of rice and vegetables.

After all the food was served things got down to business. A number of startling but miraculous details were quickly revealed to me. First, all the toasting that I had feared up until this point was happening immediately instead of at the night time banquet as I had originally expected. Not to worry though, because I was handed a bottle of wine that was filled with a very lightly alcoholic grape juice, to bamboozle people into thinking it was real wine.

Around we went. Every single person of every table got their chance to ganbei with the wedding party. Most of the time it was just with the bride and groom, and the bridesmaid and I were relegated to refilling glasses, but at every table there was always one or two old guys who wanted their chance to ganbei with me. And oh, it couldn’t be with our wine spritzer concoction, no, it had to be the real Maotai baijiu, the stuff nightmares are made of. There was about 15 tables, so naturally the groom and I had to take turns defending each other from that satanic sauce.

By the last few tables, things started to get crazy. Instead of toasting with each of the people from the table (they were all younger friends), the table would force us to down rice bowls that had been filled with run off oil from the different dishes that had been served, combined with Maotai. After one and half of these, I vowed no more. Once we reached the final table they had a special surprise. I could chose either another punch bowl of poison, or a piece of cake with about 20 tooth picks sticking out of it. I couldn’t ask what I was to do with it, I had to choose one or the other. I could only think of them making me swallowing that damn ball of toothpicks like a pill, but if I had any more of the Maotai-oil mix, my stomach would beg for harakiri. Turns out it was a game, the bridesmaid had to hold the piece of cake by one of the toothpicks in her mouth, and I had to remove all the toothpicks with my mouth! Pretty good game you’re all thinking. Yeah so did I, but her boyfriend who was standing right behind sure didn’t. I however managed to pull out every single tooth pick without coming into contact with her, which her BF probably appreciated. At this point the banquet was pretty much over, so people started to clear out, while we stuck around shootin the shit with whoever was left.

The rest of the afternoon was not free time as had been suggested by the groom, but was actually a photo session in Badaguan, a former German Colonial concession that is now a giant urban park. Since I didn’t think there’d be much me in the photos, I wandered off into a secluded area and passed out in a bush. Sure enough, sleep was futile as every 15 minutes or so my presence was needed. I soldiered on like a man and we finished the photos before sundown. With that out of the way, we piled into different cars and made our way to the next banquet hall.

Even though I only got about 15 minutes of delicious nap time at the park, I was re-energized for the second banquet. This time I actually got to enjoy the food, because there was no toasting of formalities, it was just eat, drink, and enjoy. The drinking part was a way more relaxed affair, and everyone was taking it easy…at first. There was also only about half as many people at this banquet than there was at the first one. I was doing alright, despite a few more calls to ganbei with the Maotai. The groom on the other hand…well by the time we took him home at around 10pm he was toasted. He couldn’t even stand on his own two feet. That’s cause he didn’t have the power of the power nap on his side, so I don’t blame him. My liver is a real stubborn masochistic mofo, so of course I had to head out for even more drinks with some Korean friends after the ordeal.

All in all, in summary, and to conclude on this event with some reflection, I’d have to say Chinese weddings fucking kick ass. The culture and traditions involved may be a little hard to comprehend for my primitive foreign barbarian brain, but I had a good time all the same. Would I do it all again? Well, my friend slipped me one little nugget of information about being a best man in China. If you’re already married, you’re ineligible. So Mom and Dad, just wanted to let you know, I’m getting hitched ASAP.

Filed under: qingdao