At first, I think the powder-blue suited groom is waving me away from the privacy of his wedding. I wouldn’t blame him. We’re standing in front of an artificial crimson flowered archway announcing the happy couple’s big day, taking photographs of the arch, and the party going on behind it.
My husband and I are traveling through the Mekong Delta in Vietnam. We’re in a small village in Vinh Long province when we come upon the revelry, and the dazzling portico.

Another toast to the happy couple, or at least the groom.

How to crash a wedding
Tran, our guide, explains the waving. “He wants to invite us in to celebrate.” So in we go.

The groom is blissfully inebriated and he is excited that we’ve joined the party. In Vietnam, it’s good luck to have a foreigner at your wedding. He’s also pleased to have more company to keep the party going. After three days of celebration, the party is showing signs of winding down.

The groom’s father has consumed one too many shots of rice wine, and lays on a makeshift bed under the shade of a canopy, sleeping soundly. Even the bride has decided to take her leave of the festivities to get some sleep.
After a glass of tea, we quickly move on to the groom’s beverage of choice – a highly potent rice wine. Someone offers food. On Tran’s advice, we politely decline. If we accept, we’ll be here for the day, picking up the slack from the other weary revelers.

Life’s essentials packed onto a floating house in the Mekong Delta, Vietnam.

It’s hard not to notice this brightly coloured portico.

The boy and the camera
I take my digital camera and snap a couple of pictures. A serious young boy with soulful eyes, about seven years old, comes to stand close to me, watching the camera in fascination.
Using the traveler’s international language – hand motions and facial expressions, I ask if I can take his photo.
He says nothing, so I take the shot, then turn the viewer to show him his image. He looks at it with no reaction, then back at the camera. He points to the lens cap on the table, and motions to me to replace it. The boy stands by me for the rest of our visit, captivated, but he never smiles, or speaks.

This young man was fascinating by the Westerners who crashed the wedding

Recipe for a happy life
After one last toast, a flurry of handshakes, farewell waves from the other guests, and a solemn glance from my young friend, we finally make our way down the walkway and back under the cheerful wedding arch. The groom runs after us, to present us with a bunch of bananas – a gift for coming to his wedding. He clearly thinks our presence at the party is going to bring him and his bride good luck. With only sign language and a camera to communicate with, we have brought happiness to an already happy occasion, and in return, have one of the most memorable experiences of our journey.