On the left, there were low tables (meant to be knelt at for the larger folks, and easy to climb on for the smaller folks) with an assortment of various strange, multicolored foods. (The rule of thumb was: smell it first. If it smelled like rancid goat cheese, it probably wouldn't taste very good to your species). There was music and strange stringed instruments and ones that looked like they were made of light and sounded like they were. There were Moai singing, and Rapa Nui laughing and telling stories and dancing wildly. The Moai and Rapa Nui men were wearing their brightest clothes, wrapped around their wastes, and bracelets and anklets made of gold and purple-colored metal trinkets that jangled. The women also wore bright dresses and wraps, and bracelets and anklets made of seed pods that rattled, and necklaces with beads of carved colored wood, made from fallen branches. They all had crowns and headpieces made of bright flowers.
People of all different species were there, some friends and family of the brides and grooms (and other grooms and brigrooms and snarvlets). Many were just strangers, celebrating joyfully for other strangers.
Over to the right there were many little temporary-looking tents and huts.
In the center were the monks and priests, male and female, sitting down on little grass and leaf mats covering in soft, bright cloth. Various little bowls and sundry things and dried flowers and such were gathered around each of them.
The people getting married were easy to spot--every inch of available skin was being colored with some sort of bright paste that in two separate preparation areas, was being smoothed on the men and women (and others) in beautiful swirling designs over every inch of their bodies.
Beyond it all was a large wall of stone and a metal gate, where the occasional happy couple wandered back through from the other side, looking tired and a little haggard, but joyful.
All in all, it liked like it was going to be quite the party.