Beer, music, dancing, reunions and making of new friends and relatives—no wonder I can’t sleep. It’s 3:45 AM and I’ve been awake two hours. Tried the normal tricks—taking Carafate for gastric reflux, praying, snuggling up to Collin—but still faces and snippets of conversation, joys and longings have been parading through my mind, refusing to to slow and still.
And the wedding is yet to come! Yesterday was named a mere rehearsal, but proved more. Practice of the ceremony at Three Village Church was normal enough—only a few minutes of panic wondering if the accompanist was coming, and surprise at the bridesmaids’ speedy march up the aisle.
This kaleidoscope of brilliant colors, exotic sounds, clothing and jewelry resounding in my mind, keeping me from sleep, are echoes what was called a rehearsal dinner, but was actually a modified enactment of rich Turkish marriage traditions.
When we entered the designated restaurant, The Pita House, Jenny and Ozan were seated at a small table presiding over the event. Jenny’s shiny red gown with gold-threaded designs on it covered her from wrists to shoulders to ankles, despite it being one of their hottest days here on Long Island.
Jenny is marrying into a Turkish family, and the fun of experiencing new traditions started at the back of the church before the rehearsal of western ceremonies began. Her mother-in-law, Feza, opened a bag filled with wide, silver-coined jewelry and asked each bridesmaid to select one to wear around her neck. Then Feza taught them the steps for a simple line dance.
After the splendid meal came a series of traditions adapted from a Turkish wedding celebration. Jenny and Ozan’s hands were rubbed with a red paste, (an imitation henna). Then the couple gave Turkish greetings of respect and affection to their extended families.
Next, Ozan’s aunt introduced the meaning of the Turkish songs we would hear. They mourn for the bride and her mother at the changes in their relationship as the bride goes off to live with the husband’s family and will little see her mother again. (I’m glad those days are over! YAY for cell phones, cars and planes).
Then line dancing—some simple steps and kicks, led by Jenny, Ozan and the rest of the bridal party, but we were all urged to join in. Seeing everyone’s happy faces and watching their legs lifted in the air in unison was wonderful.
I enjoyed it all, but perhaps most moving was getting to know Ozan’s family. Something about the smiles, the eagerness to please and connect and to appreciate touches me deeply. They approach marriage as being not only about the connection of two individuals but of two families. I am fortunate for this opportunity to be with them.
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