I stood in the yard in front of the church while the crowd began to gather. Sirens blared in the distance. For once in my life I felt tall next to the young Indonesian women who surrounded me. I could see the tops of their heads without straining.

People came from every direction as the procession approached. A red carpet lined the path to the church door. Police stood by as news cameras rolled and people snapped photos from their cell phones. Life in Balige, a rural town in Indonesia’s North Sumatra province, rarely reached this level of excitement.

The crowd roared as the bride and groom emerged from their vehicle. Both dressed in dazzling attire, the groom with flashy purple ruffles in his tuxedo and the bride wearing a glitzy studded kebaya. This was the wedding of two superstars in Indonesia—Judika Sihotang, a former Indonesian Idol runner-up turned rock star, and Duma Riris Silalahi, beauty queen and former Miss Indonesia contestant.

The crowed pressed closer as their slow march processed from the street to the door. I felt a tug on my arm. One of my students called me to come into the church. Wait. Enter the church? I wasn’t invited, not to mention these were well-known people throughout Indonesia, and I still had on my around-the-house clothes. Would we be allowed to enter? One thing I learned there, however, was to expect the unexpected, and just roll with it. So my students and I, along with a hundred other curious uninvited fans young and old, rolled with it. We filled the balcony to peer down on the ceremony.

Every week several weddings are held; this one was no different. Keeping to Batak culture, the same church worship and rituals are performed, whether it is in a small village or city, poor or rich. This means, that although Judika and Duma had the notoriety and wealth that would, by Western cultural norms, grant them the ability to wed anywhere and anyhow they wanted, their wedding took place in the manner prescribed by their cultural traditions just like everyone else. Balige, a small city at the foot of Lake Toba, is Duma’s hometown and was a natural location for the wedding to take place.

A year earlier, in August 2012, I had attended a wedding as part of the family in a village a few hours away. In Batak culture, before the wedding ceremony the two families meet and eat a meal together. With the groom’s family, I ate saksang and gave respects to the bride’s family. The we processed to the church. Sometimes the procession happens by car, but this one happened by foot. From a family home, we walked through alleyways in the village, and crossed the main road toward the church following a band of trumpets, saxophones, and trombones.

In all Batak weddings, a party follows the wedding ceremony. The reception party includes lunch and lasts all afternoon, sometimes into the night. Not unlike the funeral party, Batak wedding parties have distinct rituals (dancing, blessing, giving and receiving) which are performed that include immediate family, extended family lines, as well as members of the community and village.

From my pew in the balcony, I joined the wedding of people I didn’t know. The pastor spoke the same words he had a few days ago, the congregation sang the same hymns. I thought about the importance of the culture and tradition around me. Rather than as individuals, this was a celebration and gathering of community.

During the time I lived in Indonesia, I walked in the liminal space of being an outsider and being included in the community. Even though I was an outsider, I was invited into families, and invited to participate in the culture. I am most grateful for all the invitations, and even the times (like Judika’s wedding) when I peered from a balcony into the life and rituals of the culture.