If there is one thing I am known for around here it is my love of eating meat. That's not something new, but meat is a luxury for most people and only really gets served in richer families, special events and of course restaurants. Our canteen for example, even when there's a training course going on, would serve fish most of the time and either chicken or mutton (not beef - remember the Hindus) maybe once every 2 days. So when Habib asked if Anne and I wanted to go a wedding, mentioning in passing the vast amount of meat that would be on offer, he knew what our answer would be.

Personally I've not been to that many weddings in my time, at least compared to some people I know who seem to spend every other summer weekend at a wedding with the spare weekends they have dedicated to buying gifts. And all the weddings I have been to have been of a traditional Christian nature, with the notable exception of a beautiful Persian ceremony I was invited to last year. In other words, I'd never been to a Muslim wedding so was quite looking forward to it really. That and the meat of course.

As with all great Bangladeshi outings we left late. Habib was the only official guest so of course it was entirely fitting that our delay in leaving was entirely his fault. Once underway and winding our way down the country lane that leads to the main road to Dinajpur (where the meat was) we started to relax and chat a bit. Then there was a funny yet soft noise from the back of the microbus. We stopped, had a look around, and couldn't see anything wrong so continued on our way. The driver though felt that all was not well, so upon reaching the main road at Ranirbandar he pulled over and opened up the bonnet. Well, I say the bonnet but in actual fact the engine on our microbus is under the front seats so he "opened" the passenger seat. His head reappeared within seconds, and in his hand was the shredded remains of the fan belt.

Luckily we had a spare one for just such an emergency, but do you think we could find a mechanic willing to give us a hand to quickly send us on our way? Could we buggery. So for another hour we sat around the bus, went for a cup of tea and something to nibble (it was 2-3pm by now and we were getting a tad hungry), and generally tried to ignore the small but increasing crowd of unsavoury looking men gathered round about. Then we were off again, racing to Dinajpur with Habib on his mobile trying to locate the wedding party. Ah yes, you see on the Thursday it is traditional for everyone to be invited by the bride's family to a ceremony and meal, then on Friday (the weekend) it is the turn of the groom's family. It never became exactly clear to me when precisely the couple were actually married but I didn't like to ask too many questions.

So after a few calls we tracked the party down and arrived at some sort of centre that seemed to be designed for large weddings. There were plenty of people there (Habib reckoned 1000 guests) with a fleet of microbuses outside to transport families there. The entrance to the place was decorated with pieces of bright fabric making it look like a large arch, and across the entrance there was a red ribbon. A few of Habib's friends were waiting for us out front, and they led us around the side of the gate inside. What then was the ribbon for, and why were some people stuck in front of it and others, like us, allowed to slip around the side unmolested? On this occasion I did keep asking questions, and it turned out that the younger relatives of the bride were asking the groom's family for money / gifts before letting them in. It's all symbolic and a bit of fun really for the kids, but apparently they can get several thousand taka each which isn't to be sneezed at (I earn 8000 a month remember).

Now we were inside, with lots of other people just standing around waiting for the groom's family to finally buy its way in and get proceedings underway. In one room there was a small decorated platform where the bride sat with a few female relatives. She looked stunning in a beautiful shari, as did most of the women there actually. The groom, also very handsome in silks etc. was sat on a similarly decorated platform with his relatives but outside under a tent about 40 metres away from the bride. I was assured that after a religious ceremony they would actually meet, though I never saw it happen as we scarpered after the food.

While we were admiring the stars of the day we noticed a few guys with bulky cameras filming the whole event. And sure enough they soon spotted us and directed their lens in our direction. They must have filmed Anne just sitting on a chair for about 30 seconds straight, not even moving or anything. They also tried filming me but I slowly turned my back on them. We talked about it later, and as Anne said, if you were the happy couple and were sitting down to watch the film of your big day the last thing you'd surely want is extended footage of 2 random foreigners who weren't even invited in the first place. The filming became a bit of an issue actually, as they thought it a great idea to film us eating (I waved them away in an irate manner) and then later as we were saying our goodbyes. On that last occasion I looked like a right Hollywood primadona as I put my hand up to block the lens.

On the whole though, the filming aside, we were able to just be like the other guests without too much hassle. No one came up to me really, and I'd like to put that down to the aura of inapproachability that I was radiating. More likely though is that a) the men didn't really care, and b) the women of course couldn't talk to a strange man. Anne though got asked a few questions by some women about where she comes from and her name. Standard procedure really.

The meal of course was great, and Habib, aided by the rest of the table who followed his lead, ensured my plate was never short of beef and chicken. In the end I finally finished my plate, but only after Habib had left the table to wash his hands. It was great food though, and it made us wander about the cost of feeding 1000 people. Apparently, you can get enough beef for all of them from one cow, which costs roughly 6000 taka. So, for 6 taka per head you've got the meat covered. Then it's just a question of getting in loads of rice which will probably come from your own fields as you own land. It is hence conceivable then that it's not that expensive, especially seeing as it was the groom's family that was serving, and I imagine cooking it as well. Whoever did it all they did a fine job and I was still digesting come Friday morning!