Tuva Land Wedding

  In the hot June, I wore a seagreen satin gown trimmed with black otter skin, a towering lambskin cap, and dizzying spices on my neck. I was sweating on my face, drinking glasses with strangers, and bowing to them-this is not a dream, but an experience last year-beside me, is my “bride” Alan. I finally remembered her name.
  This huge white canvas tent can hold more than fifty people. It has no tables or chairs, and cooked meat is piled on the plastic sheet on the ground. The wine blended with edible solid alcohol is rippling in the drinking stone trough, and you can drink it casually.
  My “wedding” is actually the wedding of Adi Alan, and it took place in the grasslands of the countryside of the Republic of Buryatia in the Russian Federation.
  The thing is like this.
  To make a TV show, a group of us circled Lake Baikal, looking for the legacy of Mongolian culture. Yesterday, in the capital city of Ulan-Ude, the soldiers were divided into two groups. Cameraman Zhanbula and I took a truck to Tabu by the lake. The driver, Sergey, is a young Russian guy, already drunk. In the car, Zhanbula showed off China’s wealth to the driver: “Our building is taller than your five buildings stacked up (mostly two or three floors here). Our TV has 50 channels. We eat KFC. Tired, we…” I hinted that Zhanbula changed the subject, he might miss his motherland too much and talk about it. Finally, the driver stopped, bypassed the front of the car, opened the right door, and let us go down.
  I apologized and offered to increase the money. The driver dismissed it. He threw the $20 fare and Chinese-made cooling oil on the ground, dragged us out of the car, and said, “Arrogant Chinese, you have money, but you don’t have forests and honest hearts.” The
  driver— -With an upright mind, we drove this Gies truck into the distance, and we were abandoned in Southern Siberia like two ants. I denounced Zhanbula’s stupidity and told him, how many years did the Chinese have just become rich? What do you show when the poor become rich? Should! But, are there any cars on this road?
  ”Write a suicide note, before we become mummies.” I said.
  Chambra replied with a voice that was thinner than a mosquito: “The camera is still on the truck.”
  Should! What about the camera, I think I should look for the village. If there is no village waiting for us, only death is waiting for us. Neither Zhanbula nor I do international roaming on our mobile phones, and we can’t get in touch with the crew. Should!
  I judged from the smell of the wind that the southwest direction should be the edge of the forest, and it took two hours to walk out of the forest. Zhanbula offered to rest, and I said, if you keep thinking about the sins you have committed, you won’t be tired. After walking for another hour, I met the grass field, green with flowers, is there anyone? Zhanbula said: “How beautiful! It would be nice to have a camera.” This guy is still not tired.
  As I walked, my brain and legs were numb, and I suddenly saw the big white tent with smoke as mentioned above, crowded with bright clothes, like a wedding.
  As we approached, we stretched out our hands-people actually have the instinct to beg-give us a bed to eat, drink, and sleep!
  People brought mineral water and onion pilaf. At this time, a majestic elder gestured to stop. The elder with a shiny black beard and sharp eyes, put on a robe like the former Afghan President Hamid Karzai, and asked us our names and what we are here for. Then tell the person around (name Hai Risu) to take me to change clothes.
  Change clothes? Is it necessary to change clothes when eating or begging? Hai Risu told me: Hulun Bayar (the elder) said that you have a good-looking appearance and the honorable “Borji” surname. You are the descendants of the great Genghis Khan. He decided to choose you as his son-in-law, today’s groom.
  Ah? I asked if it was a joke, but Hai Risu answered no. I asked again: Where is the original groom? He replied: Waiting for him to wait for five or six hours, no longer.
  Not waiting? Is this watching a movie? I thought about it, this is a wedding, and it is a marriage. decline? My digestive system shouted: No! You should not say no lightly and say “yeah”!
  I put on a gorgeous groom’s dress and eat and drink. “The bride” Aji Alan, I am afraid he is only 19 years old, but he is already very plump, with upturned eyes and mouth, a pretty type. She seemed very satisfied with me. Encouraged by everyone—Russian marriage customs, everyone shouted “Bitterness,” and the new couple kissed—I kissed her more than twenty. I became the “groom” and broke Zhambra Le. He combed my hair and kept putting gum in my mouth. And I, with a silver wine glass with carved patterns on my hand, looked at the simple Buryat Mongols in front of me one by one. They squinted, their faces were dark, and their eyes were smiling. People from their ancestors who arrived in China were given the name “Balhu People” (Tiger Banner Army) by the Qing emperor. I was thinking, I already have a wife, in China; what should I do if I get a daughter-in-law who is younger than my daughter here? There is no “what to do” and “what to do in the future” in the culture here, simplicity and present joy are all the contents of life.
  Farewell, relatives of the motherland, come to the Buryat grassland to find me in your spare time, and bring good things from China to the children. Okay, that’s it! As soon as I turned my mind, something happened again—the bridegroom appeared. Guess who he is? The driver Sergey.
  He put on a new suit, and fought fiercely with Hulun Bayar (my father-in-law today) and Aji Alan (my bride who did not enter the bridal chamber). Sergey! It was you who threw us in the forest and lost the qualifications of the groom because of alcoholism. Come grab my bride now, bah!
  The people calmed down, and Sergey came over gloomily and said that he would fight me. Hulun Bayar, Aji Alan and everyone looked at us and couldn’t see who they hoped to win. This is their culture. I thought about it, let’s surrender, have you ever beaten him? But the inner gene says that you can’t say no. I took off my robe to indicate the beginning. The robe, wine, and unknown things worked, and a miracle happened anyway. When I was young, I practiced wrestling with a Muslim. At this moment, I fell this crippled bridegroom with my hand, and threw him down again with “Dehele”. People jumped and put the groom’s robe on me.
  At this moment, I was completely awake and gave a speech for Zhanbula to translate: “In this tent, I stayed away from the call of the forest death, received your wonderful hospitality and honored to be the bridegroom. But I miss my home, I Going home…Come, wish Sergei and Adji Alan become a couple and have a hundred children…”
  I thought that my remarks would provoke a beating, no, it was a round of applause, like respecting a gentleman. I put my robe on Sergey’s shoulders and buckled my lambskin hat on his blond hair. After that, I was so drunk that I fell to the ground without waking up.
  At dawn the next day, Chambra called to me and we boarded Sergei’s Gies truck. Zhanbula hugged the camera and praised everything in front of him. Sergey has a sweet expression. Before
  getting into the car, Aji Alan pulled my sleeve and said, “You are the groom I want. Will you come again?” I said, “Maybe not.”
  ”Don’t say that, yes, life It’s more magical than we thought.”
  I hope so. The car drove towards Tabu.