Two Cultures, Slowly Uniting In Matrimony
Industry Woos Asian Weddings Even as U.S. Reshapes Them

By N.C. Aizenman
Washington Post Staff Writer
Thursday, July 19, 2007; B01

The wedding procession making its way through a Tysons Corner parking lot Saturday could have been transported from some ancient Hindu kingdom.

Women in pink and yellow saris cheered and danced to a drummer's raucous beat. Men in red and gold turbans tossed money into the air as a blessing. And the groom at the center of it all looked positively regal riding atop a majestic white mare.

But what was that in front of the horse? Top hat and tails? The incongruous outfit worn by the horse's handler, Sue Harmon, hinted at the American twist that increasingly underlies such ceremonies. A year ago, Harmon wouldn't have known a Sikh from a sheik; today they're a big part of her business: She rents out the white horse.

Like the Serbian photographer and South African videographer also in attendance, Harmon is one of dozens of wedding vendors attempting to master the rituals of Washington's myriad immigrant communities in hopes of tapping that vast market. At the same time, many local South Asian wedding decorators, dressmakers and caterers are moving in the opposite direction: helping immigrant clients incorporate Western trends and branching out to serve "non-ethnic" couples.

The result has been the rise of a hybrid wedding scene in which ever more Caucasian couples eschew pastels in favor of South Asian reds; Middle Eastern and African couples use the ornate South Asian wedding canopies known as mandaps; and South Asian couples include bridesmaids, unthinkable in India or Pakistan.

"It's been fascinating to watch the cross-cultural exchange going on," said Sachi Sood, 27, of Gaithersburg-based Partyland Flowers & Event Decorators. "I feel like I'm witnessing the melting pot in action."

With the melting comes a few misfires, of course. When Foxchase Manor, a wedding hall in Manassas, hosted its first Hindu wedding, the havan, or sacred fire, nearly set off the ballroom's sprinklers.

But Manager Antonio Cecchi has since developed a system that "works like a charm." "The normal instinct is to blow out the fire when you're done," explained Cecchi, 39, offspring of an Italian father and Uruguayan mother. "But that creates this huge puff of smoke that's actually much bigger than when the fire is lit. So the key is to keep the fire in a portable container, and then when you're done, you carry it outside and close all the doors before blowing it out."

With an average of 80 South Asian weddings a year, the staff has had ample opportunity to perfect the technique, he added.

If Foxchase Manor's accommodating attitude has made it a popular venue, the undisputed place to rent the white mare on which the groom customarily rides up to these ceremonies is Harmon's Hayrides and Carriages of Brandy Station, Va.

Known as the baraat, the groom's arrival procession is meant to evoke his voyage from his home to his bride's village. The ritual dates back centuries, but Midge Harmon, Sue Harmon's 69-year-old mother-in-law and founder of Harmon's Hayrides, heard of it only five years ago when she started getting calls from Indian and Pakistani families wondering whether she had a white mare for hire.

Intrigued, Harmon decided to buy Sadie, a Virginia-bred draft horse. Within two years, Sadie was so heavily booked that Harmon purchased a second white mare named Cindy and went online to order traditional wedding attire for both horses from India.

Sue Harmon, who started helping out with the baraat jobs about a year ago, prefers them to driving carriages for mainstream American weddings because "there are so many neat customs, like the way they put these special drops on the corner of the groom's eyes . . . or the swords the Sikhs carry or the boy that rides on the horse with the groom. Each one has its own meaning, and I feel like I learn something new every time." (The drops are supposed to ward off evil; the small ceremonial sword, or kirpan, is a requirement for initiated Sikhs, who are members of a religion founded in northern India; the boy serves as an attendant.)

For sheer diversity of experience, though, it's hard to beat Darla Cisek, 53, a Potomac photographer whose client base includes couples from 15 nations. Each requires a different approach.

At Filipino weddings, Cisek is careful to get almost as many photographs of the couple's ninong and ninang -- godparent-like figures -- as she takes of the parents.

For Muslim weddings at which male and female guests celebrate in separate rooms, Cisek dons modest long sleeves and skirts. And she uses only women to process the photos because it would be improper for men who are not related to the female guests to look at them.

Cisek has also learned never to suggest that a Nigerian woman put down her purse for a formal group shot. "A lot of times the purse is considered an essential part of the outfit, along with matching shoes and these fabulous, enormous head wraps," she explained.

And extra batteries are a must for Hindu ceremonies -- they can stretch on for hours, with dozens of rituals, from the milni, during which the couple's families exchange garlands to cement their union, to the madhuparka, in which the groom's feet are washed to purify him and he is offered honey and milk to fortify him for his wedding night, to the saptapadi, in which the groom helps the bride touch seven betel nuts with her right toe -- a conduit for one of the chakras of energy -- while they recite seven vows.

Cisek said she occasionally finds that she is more familiar with the customs involved than her clients. "After about the second or third generation, a lot of people just lose the traditions," she said.

Recently, a Chinese American bride was about to order black covers for her photo albums until Cisek warned her that in some Chinese traditions that color is associated with death.

South Asian vendors, meanwhile, are increasingly hearing from non-South Asian couples who want to borrow their customs.

Caucasian couples who came across photos of Sood's creations in the Foxchase Manor gallery have asked her to decorate their weddings in the same shades of maroon and gold. She's even draped a mandap -- the wedding canopy -- with kente cloth for an African couple.

For a Thai American couple, Priti Verma, 44, a McLean decorator, created a modified Indian doli, or one-person carriage in which the groom's family carries off the bride. And both designers have created "mogul"-style mandaps with arches and domes for Iranians who want to evoke the canopy under which the sofreh aghd, or spread of symbolic foods, is often placed in a Persian wedding.

By contrast, South Asian couples who once counted on South Asian vendors to provide authenticity are now seeking their help to modernize. "Growing up in our mixed-race society has definitely opened this generation's minds," said Aradhana Luthra, 37, of the Clifton-based As U Wish decoration company. "They don't just want to hold the classic ceremony at the temple. They want to play around with things, to think outside of the box."

The fact that Luthra speaks fluent Hindi and Urdu means she can smooth things over with parents who might be uneasy with the changes.

The most common modifications include the creation of an aisle for the bride to walk down followed by bridesmaids. "You'd never see that in India," Luthra said.

Perhaps most radical, however, is the growing use of whites and ivories in the decorations.

"In Indian culture, white signifies mourning," she said. "It used to be such a taboo for weddings. But now so many brides are demanding it."

Priti Loungani-Malhotra, 32, a dressmaker based in Arlington County, has even designed a white version of the classic Indian wedding gown, with a mermaid-shaped lengha, or skirt, that would do Vera Wang proud.

For the moment, though, she's not getting many takers.

"My fiance's family is more conservative, and I want to respect that," explained Bhavna Vaswani, 28, during a recent fitting at Loungani-Malhotra's house.

Still, though Vaswani opted for gold fabric, she did stick with the dress's mermaid shape.

"It reminds me of an American wedding dress," she said. "And I don't know, growing up in Dallas, I guess I somehow always pictured myself getting married in an American dress."