koue

TWO BEAUTIES

Last night met with another Eurasian dude. He's also a film guy, but more my brother's age. We stopped at the bar owned by the best bartender in the city. More an alcohol artist than anything. We entered and he was already slightly tipsy on his own art. We got a few drinks and my friend introduced me to his girlfriend - hiding behind a curtain in the pillowed alcove. She raised a lazy hand from a fashion magazine, waved hi.

When we parted the curtain and entered, her beauty was like a physical force. I knew even my girlfriend felt it. Physical because you felt it before even you actually saw it. A force because her beauty was not a soft, comfortable beauty, but hard and cold. She had a kind of model's demeanor and grandeur, but tempered with that same kind of model coldness. The mixture of symmetrical, ivory skin beauty with that edge of carnival sideshow oddity that gives a model her uniqueness and power. My girl often says of Angelina Joli that when she first saw her photo she thought she looked obscene. The huge lips, the giant-normous eyes. Same thing here. She a mix of Han, Bai, and Tibetan and had inherited all the good parts of all three.

So my immediate reaction was both to swoon - the same way even if President Bush most asked for a bowl of M&Ms you'd fetch it gladly, lost in the spell of his fame - and also to vomit - for she was dangerously thin, and even more dangerously young for my thirty plus friend.

We had a nice time, and me and my girl got very giggly and cutesy wootsy in her presence, the same way you would if you were in the presence of a funny old person. After we left the bar, my girl and I gossiped about the beauty among the pillows. We're cute like that. She said one of the things she finds attractive in people is when she finds something childish in their looks. She searched for it in this girl, and did not find it until a rare smile blossomed on her face - and suddenly she seemed like a little girl. "But damn if she doesn't use that shit sparingly," said my girl.

We left early because we had to wake at 5 am for a morning wedding. My coworker who I hardly know and can hardly understand through his thick Beijing accent invited me to be his best man/foreign puppet at his wedding. Apparently, my girl was not aware that she would have to be best woman until about 10:30 pm the night before. It must have slipped my mind to tell her...oops.

But the wedding was actually quite fun. We got to ride with the husband-to-be in the marriage procession to the wife's house. My girl got off ahead of us and joined the bride-to-be at her house (they hadn't even met yet). Then the husband-to-be and I followed close behind, marching up the stairs followed by a train of relatives. Arriving at the door, a voice called from behind, "Who is it?" And the husband-to-be replied, "The husband-to-be." And the voice replied, "You've got the wrong door!"

For a sec, I was like FUCK! We're lost! Then some key turned in the memory bank and glimmered some recollection from Chinese Culture 101 and was like Oh, this is Custom!

The dialogue continued.

"No, it's the right door! Open up!"
Laughter and giggling could be heard through the wood panel.
"Why are you here?"
"My love, I'm here to take you away!"
"She doesn't want you, go away!"
More giggling.

This went on for a while, and my poor coworker was bearing the strain with beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. All this was simultaneously being recorded by cameras fore and aft, behind him and in front of him through the crack in the door.

"Get out the red envelopes." He said to me.
I was keeping the money envelopes in my pocket. Handed him a few.
After passing a symbolic dowry through the door, we entered and greeted everyone -- all had huge smiles plastered on their face, having a great time.

But the ordeal was not done yet.

We went to the bride-to-be's bedroom and the dialogue repeated. Some more money was slipped under the door.
"Not enough!" Came the answer.
"Oh let him in already!" came the voice of the nervous bride.
They gave the groom a little more hassle then let him in.

The whole thing was very moving and lots of fun. Then after a rest we headed down to the car where streamers and poppers exploded and I opened the car door, and stuffed the couple in, flowers, skirt, veil, and acrylic lace and all. Then we hopped in and were off.

The actual ceremony was a bit of a let-down. Not nearly as warm and personal as the greeting at the door. Bosses were invited on stage to speak and spoke like bosses speak. The couple made a promise to never let the gathered audience down by loving and being happy all their lives. After the ceremony, they toasted to the tables, we poured the drinks, and their friends played various semi-sexual party tricks on them. Real fun.

The bride was definitely the most beautiful woman at her wedding (excluding my own girl of course! ) both my girl and I agreed later. But the difference in her beauty was striking from the one of the night before. She looked healthy, glowing (and not just from the hours of makeup layered on her face). She was the kind of popular Chinese beauty seen often on billboards for iced green tea and health supplements: easy smile, small mouth, large round eyes. She made you feel at ease, she could be everyone's friend at once.

My girl proclaimed, "if she was American her name would be Allison and she would be a cheerleader." A little harsh, but not too far off.

The third beauty of the weekend is sitting beside me, and I reserve those details for myself.