Family wedding 01 · 2019
Hard Rock Hotel Cancún — roughly 150 guests, four days of events
This was our family’s wedding — my son’s. About 150 guests flew in from across the US, the UK, and India. We had four days of events: a Mehndi on Thursday evening that ran past midnight, a Haldi on Friday morning that needed a separate outdoor space because turmeric stains everything it touches, the baraat and wedding ceremony on Saturday, and a reception on Sunday. The Hard Rock Hotel Cancún is a capable resort with experienced staff. They had done hundreds of weddings. But they had not done many like ours, and the gap between what we imagined and what the contract assumed showed up everywhere.
The baraat was the first moment that taught me what “outside vendor” means in a resort contract. We had a DJ who knew Garba and filmi music — he had played at three family weddings before. The resort’s in-house audio vendor could not have done what he did, but bringing him in carried an outside-vendor fee we had not caught in the proposal. Then there was the horse for the baraat procession. The resort had a horse. The horse was not trained for the noise and movement of an Indian baraat with 150 people walking behind it. We figured this out the day before, when the resort’s equestrian vendor casually mentioned it.
The mandap was the second moment. The decorator (an outside vendor we had brought in from Cancún) was excellent — the floral work was beautiful and the family was happy. But the resort required us to use their staging for the mandap platform, at a fee, and the staging had a specific size constraint that affected the mandap design. We caught this in time only because the decorator asked. Had she not asked, the mandap would have been built to spec in her workshop and then not fit on the resort’s staging. The baraat staging, the mandap staging, the mehndi seating, the haldi tarp, the Sunday brunch — each one had a line item we had not been quoted in the original proposal.
The food was the third moment. The resort kitchen was good and tried hard. They could not, however, make a Jain version of every dish. We had aunts and uncles who eat Jain food, and we had not specified this in writing early enough. The resort scrambled and the Jain guests were fed, but I learned that “vegetarian” in a resort contract is not the same as “Jain vegetarian” or “satvik vegetarian,” and that the time to confirm that distinction in writing is the week you sign the contract — not the week before the wedding.
The wedding was beautiful. The family cried happy tears. The four days were everything I had hoped they would be for my son. And the morning we flew home, I started a notebook of every question I wished I had asked before signing. That notebook is the seed of what CeremonyVerse does today.

