Two weddings, no funeral

What’s a wedding for? A right of passage? A public commitment? An excuse for a party? Affirmation of a contract? A union of two houses? Please tick all that apply.

Perhaps it’s just as well that I wasn’t blogging last year when my daughter got married, I would have written a lot. In summary though there was a white dress, a Spanish bridegroom, a ceremony in Battersea park, a signing of the register, Big Red Buses to take us across London to where the bride, groom and families received us all, a super meal, speeches in two languages, dancing, a bag of favours for everyone, two best men, a big cake and a lot of champagne. It was a really great “do” enjoyed by close to a hundred people, an average sort of size for a British wedding. My darling daughter announced afterwards with pride that she’d come in on budget: you can see why she chose to become a chartered accountant. A success in every way it was.

Over the weekend we went to a Muslim wedding celebration here. A small wedding by Lebanese standards, about two-hundred and forty were catered for. The guests were greeted by the families of the couple, then headed off to be seated. When the assembly was complete there was a beating of drums to herald the groom’s arrival accompanied by an all male entourage (rather more than two best men) drawn from friends and family. Next the bride entered (in a white dress) with her Dad and waited for the groom’s group to progress across the floor to "claim" her, after which the finally united couple, accompanied by singers and dancers mixed with the original group of supporters went to sit side by side at a raised table by themselves. Later there was dancing and a big cake.

Most of the weddings I’ve been to here follow much the same pattern. It’s noisy and boisterous and fun to watch, and my guess (no research done to prove it) is that it echoes rituals from pastoral and even nomadic ways of life, the groom’s accompanied procession across the floor being the equivalent of a trip across the village or perhaps even to a neighbouring yurt. The ceremony and contract signing was essentially an all male affair in private and done earlier.

When I started this, the idea in my mind was to show how different things were, but what comes through are the similarities too. OK, so there was no champagne, indeed it was dry, but forewarned, a couple of hip flasks made rather a dent in that. And there were no speeches, so no public gaffs as popularized by Four Weddings and a Funeral. But the meal, the dancing, the cake, the walk, the public union, the white dress and the groom’s supporters are all elements in common.

It should come as no surprise then that I’d give both weddings ticks in all five of the boxes suggested above.