Казахская Свадьба! (Not Just Any Wedding)

It has been a long time since I have written a blog post, but I am finally settled in my apartment which is never a simple process. C'est la vie in Kazakhstan.

(Proud parents await the official ceremony)

As I wrote earlier, about a month and a half ago, my host sister Sania got married. Coming into the wedding, I had no idea what to expect. The routine, the traditions, the ceremonies, and the general atmosphere were all a complete mystery to me. I could have dug deeper when asking my host family about the proceedings, but the family stress level was palpable. Some things in Kazakhstan are best experienced without any prior knowledge of what is supposed to happen, anyway.

(The couple during the civil ceremony. I'm not sure exactly what was said, because it was all in Kazakh.)

The classic image of an American wedding is that of the bride gliding down the aisle to the altar. This defining moment is not shared by Kazakh weddings. At around 3:30pm on a Saturday, we proceeded directly to a government office located about five minutes from our apartment. We waited in the hallway, collecting more family members, as another wedding was being performed in the main room. When it was our turn, we entered a modest room with a large desk and a huge sky-blue flag of Kazakhstan on the wall. This was the civil ceremony and was attended by a small group of about 30 family members. The best man and the maid of honor attended Sania and Kuanysh as papers were signed and the marriage was official.

That was quick.

(A quick dance.)

The Kazakhs clearly prefer to get the paperwork out of the way in order to clear the rest of the day for celebrations. In this case, the ceremony took about 20 minutes, although in reality it was simply the prelude for what ultimately became a 13 hour journey.

After the marriage ceremony, we went outside and waited in the blustery spring weather for the newlyweds to emerge. Kuanysh came out carrying Sania and swept her into the backseat of the first of seven waiting cars, all adorned with flowers and balloons. The best man and the maid of honor joined them in the first car while the rest of the wedding party filed down the street to the other cars. (Note: I don't know exactly what the 'best man' and 'maid of honor' are called here, but their roles are a little different. There were no extra groomsmen or bridesmaids).

As the celebrations continued through the day and into the night, the initial ceremony felt more and more like mere paperwork that had to be dispensed with. Our procession of cars left the government building and sped down the street, horns blaring and streamers flapping in the wind. When we reached the widest boulevard in Zhezkazgan, the cars began weaving between each other. My car would occasionally sidle up to another with windows rolled down and the guys in the back seat would clink their shot glasses together. Seeing that the vodka was already flowing at 4pm of what I knew would be a marathon of a day, I did my best to avoid doing a shot a minute. However, when it comes to drinking, locals are not accustomed to taking no for an answer.

(A quick candle-lighting ceremony at the local museum. What does the fire symbolize? Eternal love? I don't know -- your guess is as good as mine.)

As per Zhezkazgan tradition, the entire afternoon and early evening was spent traveling to a number of different local spots to take pictures and drink vodka. The first destination was the local history museum, where we took pictures and wandered around for a short while. After 15 minutes, everybody piled back into their cars and we drove to the neighboring town of Satpaev. While Zhezkazgan has a mosque of its own, it is rather dingy compared to the one in Satpaev. There was a minor catastrophe when, upon arrival, we realized that we had lost the car that was transporting the parents of the bride. Somehow, there had been a miscommunication and they had driven to the Zhezkazgan mosque! While missing the religious ceremony of their daughter's wedding might seem traumatic, the parents seemed to be only slightly bothered by this. I suppose that gallivanting around in cars while soaked in vodka is a young person's game -- we were only a party of 30 or so people, whereas dinner would be the true climax of the wedding.

(The mosque, which is located right across from the Russian Orthodox Church. Apparently they made sure that the minaret was slightly taller than the steeple.)

Following the trip to the mosque, we sped out of Satpaev and proceeded to skirt around Zhezkazgan to the airport, located a few miles outside of town. The airport is apparently the anchor of the "Zhezkazgan wedding tour". There are only daily flights to Astana and Almaty, a fact which lent the Zhezkazgan airport an air of importance about on par with the airport in West Lebanon, NH. Nonetheless, I had never seen the airport. Naturally, more pictures were taken although the strong wind and the cool spring air drove many back into their cars. The rest, of course, tossed down a few shots and champagne.

(The gang poses for a picture before running back to the cars as soon as it was taken. No, Kazakhs still have not gotten used to the wind around here.)

On the way back from the airport we stopped at a massive "ZHEZKAZGAN" sign overlooking the city. The standard pictures were taken and the newly-minted husband performed a tradition of tossing a champagne bottle in the air. Whether the bottle shatters on the ground determines the gender of the couple's first child. Of course, the bottle broke, but since it was never made clear to me which outcome meant girl and which outcome meant boy, I'm still holding my breath.

(Boy or girl?)

The final stop on the grand tour was in the main square in town. We took another round of pictures, but most people were too cold to stick around for more than a few token moments. We quickly retreated to the cars and finally drove to a restaurant.

(Satpaev Square in Zhezkazgan. Satpaev, by the way, was a Kazakh scientist who discovered most of the copper in this region.)

Restaurants in Zhezkazgan seem to thrive on wedding parties and the like. There is not a terribly strong culture of dining out, but families spend what I can only assume to be a ridiculous amount of money on big occasions such as these. A head count was impossible, but there were easily 200 people spread out among long tables. Like with most formal Kazakh functions, the routine was very standard. A hired emcee ran an agenda that included the formulaic games, music, and occasional dancing. All through the night food was brought to the tables and many people stood up to give toasts. And of course, there were pictures.

(The Scene as we entered)

(The table of leading dignitaries...and I want to stress that those are only the appetizers.)

(The four sitting at the main table would always stand as they listened to each and every toast throughout the night. Toasts play a much bigger role in Kazakh and Russian culture than they do in American culture. A regular dinner party will have many. A wedding... well, there were plenty.)

(Lord knows it wouldn't be a wedding without beshbarmak.)

(A better view of the whole room)

(The cake, which pretty much nobody ate because it was late and you can only be at a Kazakh dinner party for so long.)

(Yes, that is a Yulia Tymoshenko bobblehead on the vodka bottle. Tymoshenko is the Ukrainian prime minister and Princess Leia lookalike. Seriously she's got the hair. I want my George W. Bush bobblehead tequila bottle!)

The scene at the restaurant dissipated at around midnight. A long day of fluctuating between various levels of inebriation is the sort of thing that kills me and I was very ready for bed. This naive optimism was quickly dashed when it was announced that "молодёжь" -- the young people -- would all be heading to a night club. This was fun for a while, but I was a complete zombie by 4am. Thankfully, we left around 4:30 and I fell asleep before my head hit the pillow.

The wedding was an interesting experience. At its core, it was not drastically different than an American wedding, although it was hardy the same thing. In truth, the wedding seemed to follow the exact same format that every large formal party follows, but with a pre-party and a post-party. I suppose it simply would not be a Kazakh event if it did not involve the дастархан, the enormous arrangement of food that leaves almost no empty space on the table. It was a fascinating experience, but not one I would want to do every weekend!