As we have had intermittent rain for five consecutive days until the day before wedding, we were concerned how the weather would be on that day. But fortunately, it cleared up from the morning, and we could enjoy the invigorating weather.

I left home at 14:00pm for a weaving lesson even on that day. In the garden of the workshop, there was a table placed with a lot of chairs around it. I heard that as many as 250 people have been invited. Since it is common in Laos for invited guests to bring their families and friends with them, and it is thereby almost impossible to estimate how many people in all will actually attend, a meal is generally prepared enough for as many as 400 people. Nobody was sitting in front of a weaving machine on this day; some girls were chopping vegetables up, stirring soup, and cutting watermelons, while some others were drying dishes and forks. There were lots of huge pots, which were as large as a kindergarten child to be completely covered up, and large tub-sized balls lying here and there. Being instructed by women from the neighborhood, everybody looked to be doing their works cheerfully and pleasantly.

To begin with, there was Barci for wedding. A conjurator raised his glass of alcohol as saying some kind of intricate words, and a bride then drunk up her drink; it resembled the traditional ceremony of Japan to exchange cups of sake at wedding. When they were winding a piece of string around their hands, I was quite impressed to see someone rolling up money with the string. Then words of prayer were given also to two pillows. After that, we all went to their bedroom, placed the pillows, and had them sit down in front of the bed. Their families and friends were making a great fuss, and, setting aside the bloom, the bride was looking down embarrassedly with her face going red. They told me that this banter in a bedroom is also one of the essential parts of the Barci for a Laotian wedding.

The Barci was attended only by a small group of family members (yet, I guess there were about 20 peopleÉ?), but in the meantime, the preparation for the wedding, which would be starting at 19:00pm, was still going on livelily and merrily in the garden of the workshop. When the sky started to get dark with the sun down, the boys and girls who have been all of sweat working hard for the preparation went back into their dormitories. When they came out, they were all dressed up in their best clothes. The girls were dressed in lustrous silk sins and blouses. Some of them were letting their long hairs down smoothly to their backs, while some others were fixing their hairs with ribbons. In addition, they were wearing not their usual flip-flops but fine sandals. The boys were wearing long-sleeved shirts, long slacks, and leather shoes. They looked supremely formal.

The bloom and bride were standing side by side at the entrance, and the guests were arriving one after another. The bride was offering a glass of whisky to each guest here. Well I did drink it up in a single draft like everybody else. I then put a gift of money in a heart-shaped box. It is the Laotian way to put cash in an envelope of invitation card that has been sent to you. A band and singer were all ready. Dishes were set on the table. Then, it was the beginning of the wedding.

Just at that moment, a few drops of rain started to fall. Feeling "This is unbelievable," everybody was stunned. But they then started to move instantly. There were those shielding the bride, taking the dishes back into the house, or carrying a speaker into the spot under the roof. And the nicely-dressed boys started putting up a tent. They were all drenched to the skin. Fortunately, it stopped raining in 30 minutes or so, and the party was resumed. I left for home at this point, but I heard that the party continued livelily until as late as 23:30pm in the night with people dancing and singing.

By the way, it was Bienghkam's mother who was managing this ceremony vigorously.

Translated by Maiko Noda