Ghosts (and, finally, a bit on the wedding)
by , 06-20-2008 at 03:57 AM (1756 Views)
My uncle’s wedding was a soaring affair, comparatively small (which only means that they didn’t invite every single person they know) but absolutely stunning. The basic order is fairly the same as an American wedding, but there are some traditions that really add a lot to it. I’ll talk about these in a minute.
First of all, Lebanese love style and fashions. As a wedding is a big deal, not only do they do the requisite hair and nails but also they get really nice outfits. We had already bought evening-style dresses (pics are coming. Bullet looks amazing) in California, so midmorning friends took the three of us to get our hair and nails done. My mom did makeup there too, but my mom’s friend did mine and my sisters.
Hair and makeup done, we sat and waited for the first well-wishers to come. (This was around 3 p.m. The wedding was at 6.) First of the Lebanese traditions: the groom’s family visits the groom for champagne, sweets (heavenly baklava, macaroons, marzipan, and chocolate favors) and pictures before going to the bride‘s house for more sweets and pictures and gift-giving, usually jewelry. Those driving to the bride’s house honk the car horn all the way to the house. Everyone on the street stops and stares, most of them with congratulating smiles on their faces. I really loved this tradition -- it’s such fun! We got to Mirande’s house at 4:30ish for pictures and more champagne. Then to the church for a Syriac Orthodox ceremony before going to a fancy hotel restaurant for another mezze type meal, dessert, dancing and cake. All of us were caught by surprise -- it was absolutely FREEZING up there. Although my uncle told us that it might be a bit chilly up there, no one expected that it would be so cold. My mom told me to drink some whisky to warm up. I did (my first taste of hard liquor) but that stuff is majorly NASTY. Tastes like liquid leather.
But the stuff did warm me up somewhat, even the gulp that I took. Then I was able to go out of the sophisticated hotel lounge (what a lounge! It was huge, with marble flooring. Couch sets and tables arranged delicately around each other were scattered about the room. Elegant waiters in outfits matching the tan-hued room walked around offering complimentary drinks. Yeah.) and onto the balcony overlooking Beirut. It was a brilliant view, especially in the dark, the lights twinkling below.
Three of my somehow cousins tried to get me to dance, but I’m not really a dancing type. Malek told me to dance without thinking about it but I have to -- where do I put my feet?Finally Rafid took pity on me and danced a little two-step with me. One of my mom’s friends finally took me by the hips and shook me a bit, Arabic style. Rafid and Raghid promised to teach me Arabic style dancing -- I’ll post a link when I get the pictures.
After the cake was cut and everybody left we went home, sans bride and groom, who stayed at the hotel overnight.
The next day we got sick, and since then all four of us have been getting sick in turns. Diarrhea AND throwing up in searing hot weather is really, really not fun, air conditioning regardless. But we’re all praying that we’re done with the hurling.
And now I get to bring in something that I’ve been wanting to talk about for a really long time: the level of family bonds in Lebanon is on a level totally different from that in America. My family is close, but I thought that was a fluke, not natural.
Now I know where that comes from.
Remember when I said earlier that the houses are stacked up on each other? Well, everybody knows everybody in one stack of houses. In the two other houses that are on this floor are neighbors that my Mom just now told me aren’t related to us -- I had no idea that they aren’t blood related; I thought they were. We call them uncle and aunt and see them mostly every day for a morning coffee or afternoon visit. They’ll drop in anytime for coffee or to invite us to something or somewhere. They’ve known my mom and uncle and their family for years and years and now consider us family, even down to me and Bulletproof. All my mom’s old friends are so happy to see her, and not only that but they love my dad too. They didn’t know him very well when my mom married him and I was kind of afraid that people wouldn’t pay as much attention to him and Bullet as they would to me and my mom (I went to Lebanon with her fourteen years ago.) but they LOVE them and my dad feels really at home among them. A couple of days ago one of my mom’s best friends invited us, my uncle and aunt, and a bunch of her family up to her country house in Ehmej. At that time I was halfway done with my sickness but because I had been pouring from both ends I was so weak I and tremendously emotional. But my mom pushed me to go and I agreed because Ehmej is higher than Beirut, so it’s much cooler and the breezes are far more cleaner than in Beirut. (I was so weak and hormonal that I cried when Mirande put a Fairouz cd on because her voice was so SAD!) Everyone going consoled me as best they could and when I got there everyone was so nice I cried all over again. The hostess told me that when I felt tired I was to go straight to her bedroom, close the door, and go to sleep. They gave me a room with couches to myself to be alone but everyone who went through asked me how am I, how am I feeling, won’t I please come outside with them, can they get me anything. The older women would come kiss me on the cheek and others would come lay a hand on my shoulder.
That kind of thing doesn’t happen in the U.S.
Here’s another example. One lady and her two kids were moving to Canada to rejoin her husband before we came, but postponed it for another ten days for our coming and my uncle’s wedding (she was one of my mom’s best friends). When she left, me and Bullet and my dad, her mom, her brother and sister and their children and a neighbor couple went with them at 5:30 A.M. to send them off. EVERYONE cried, including myself, and I only just got to know her and her two adorable little kids. Her sister’s little girl is friends with her little girl, and both of them poured tears. Her brother is a grown man with a family and the tears were streaming unashamedly down his face. Before the woman left she hugged and thanked everyone, and after she left everyone kissed everyone.
Seriously, these kinds of family ties do not exist in the States. If they did, NOTHING could sunder the United States of America. We would stand united not only because of patriotism but because we are family. We need this kind of closeness, and I for one am determined to foster it when I get back home.
And these family ties also extend to dead loved ones as well. When we went to Zahle, we visited an older couple related to my dad, the one with the forgetful gentleman, if you remember. Now, even though he couldn’t remember who my dad was, he couldn’t stop talking about both of my sets of grandparents and how wonderful or how witty or how insouciant they were. He wouldn’t stop!
Then, the other day my packrat uncle pulled out all of the old stuff he’s kept from my grandparent’s time. Oh, the stuff we found! He’s kept my grandmother’s wedding dress. I teared up when I saw that -- my grandmother Sophia’s wedding dress!! It’s sixties style, short and cute and cream-colored. It can’t be bigger than a size four, and in the picture she looks GORGEOUS!!
He had also kept a fancy-ish looking slinky black dress that might fit me. Here’s hoping.
We found old old razors, my grandfather’s old ones, still with unused razor blades! Old wind-up watches still working. Old pins - I kept one of the flag of Lebanon - and platters and dishes that my grandmother used to use. Scarves my uncle had got my grandmother as souvenirs from Italy. And get this - my grandmother’s sample book! Samples of her filet crochet and tatting work sewn into a red felt book. These samples are incredible; such fine, detailed work so very intricate. Old balls of thin crochet yarn. My grandmother’s old crochet needles.I got so excited with all these antique things! I will post pictures, I promise!
And, on top of that, I got some fifteen of my Mom's old books!!
1. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
2. The Aeneid by Virgil
3. The Confessions of St. Augustine by St. Augustine
4. The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway
5. Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
6. The ABC Murders by Agatha Christie
7. The Turn of the Screw and Other Stories by Henry James
8. Animal Farm by George Orwell
9. Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett
10. Christian Liberty by Martin Luther
11. Notes on Joyce's Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by Study-Aids
12. The Oresteian Trilogy by Aeschylus
13. The Epic of Gilgamesh
14. The Last Days of Socrates by Plato
15. Utopia by Thomas More
16. The Theban Plays by Sophocles
Cheers to you all!



) in California, so midmorning friends took the three of us to get our hair and nails done. My mom did makeup there too, but my mom’s friend did mine and my sisters.
) Everyone going consoled me as best they could and when I got there everyone was so nice I cried all over again. The hostess told me that when I felt tired I was to go straight to her bedroom, close the door, and go to sleep. They gave me a room with couches to myself to be alone but everyone who went through asked me how am I, how am I feeling, won’t I please come outside with them, can they get me anything. The older women would come kiss me on the cheek and others would come lay a hand on my shoulder. 