A Bear Got Married

Even though several fortnights have passed since last I wrote, it’s not been for nothing to say rather than for lack of time. I could’ve shared more about my travels and visitors—to Tirana, Prishtina, Belgrade, Halkidiki, and friends from Finland, England, and the US here—but the end of the academic year, and our guests and wedding have swallowed up a couple months of my life! But not to my chagrin; there’s a local proverb said when it’s raining and the sun is out here, which has been the case often this week—“a bear is getting married” (‘mechka se mazi’). More on that momentarily, as a bear indeed got married...

So where to begin? The Balkans live on, and I do too within them. Summer is here and for weeks I got more sun than I needed. A guys getaway of sorts, two friends and I climbed the 3rd highest peak in the country, “Thessaloniki’s Head” (‘Solunska Glava’), and had a blast doing so. We took a train to a small village, a taxi to a smaller one, and then hiked from there to a mountain hut. The next day we did the three hour ascent from the hut, and albeit getting toasted by the sun, had perfect weather and fantastic views along the way.



It’s been a stormy week though this week, which has been cathartic as I try to relax post-wedding and gear up for some summer hobbies and travels. I’ll be local for the next month or so (though with a few adventurous getaways planned), and we’ll then head to Italy for a friend’s wedding and on to the states thereafter. News though is that I’ll return to Europe via Kiev, Ukraine, as I must attend a training there for a position I’ve taken with American Councils. I’ll be their recruiter for the southern Balkan region, so will travel extensively in Albania, Kosovo, Macedonia, Bulgaria, and southern Serbia, from September till December. It’s then off to Canterbury, Kent to commence with my doctoral research after that.

So, despite guests and such adventures having passed or being planned, the big event of the month was my wife’s and my “svadba”—wedding. We were technically already married, but we wanted to have a celebration of it, as most people do, and living locally naturally decided to do it here. Now, I had been to weddings in Macedonia before and had seen the extent to which they're quite different from those in the US. There is no rehearsal dinner, no father walking down the aisle and giving away the bride, no speeches, no buffet dinners, no bad DJ and cheesy dancing, and no time limit. For the most part, it’s quite the contrary, and being fully involved in one made me see all the traditions of my wife’s town, region (Kavadarci, Tikvesh), and the country in general.

Briefly, the wedding events started the evening before the day on which it actually took place. Known as the “bungur,” it was a three or so hour visit by close friends and relatives. The wedding then began for us by late morning the next day, when those same folks returned to the house, along with a group of local musicians, to liven things up as I prepared to take my bride and whisk her away from her family and off to the reception. This began noon-ish, with guests arriving at the reception at 1pm. We were late for it, but got there at quarter after to greet them and welcome others. With appetizers, drinks, non-stop dancing, dinner, and cake, the event then lasted until nearly 8pm.

Yet underneath the festivities lay several long standing and interesting local customs and traditions. To begin, the wedding party is slightly different than in Midwestern America. The main stars of the wedding and sitting at the head table with the bride and groom, include the parents, a best man (“dever”—usually the groom’s brother, other male relative or a close friend), the bride’s best woman (“starosvatica”), siblings, and godparents (“kumovi”). Who chooses these though is gender specific. Whereas the groom chooses the “dever” and “kumovi”, the bride chooses her “starosvatica.” Further, the “starosvatica” is usually accompanied by her husband, who is the “starosvat.” We were this at the wedding of our “starosvatovi” in 2003, thus it was now their turn to reciprocate. Altogether, they play a large role in the wedding preparation and celebration, and receive gifts from the bride and groom for their presence.

The “kumovi,” or godparents, have the most predominant role though. It is an honor to be asked to be godparents, but once that privilege is bestowed upon a couple they are bound to traditions of leadership and what I’d consider power at the wedding. When we asked the couple we did (my Peace Corps training home-stay family), by tradition we brought them sweets and alcohol (in our case, red wine and chocolate covered baklava). However, upon their acceptance they then demanded to pay for several things. One was the wedding cake, as well as the bride’s shoes and material for her dress. Although Irena had already bought both and their cost was beyond that of what our godparents could pay, they went ahead and purchased the latter and gave them as gifts at the Friday evening “bungur.” They then gave us other gifts, and we were bound to respect them and make them feel as godparents should.

Further, the godparents’ role is traditionally one that becomes kin-like, if it was not already. I have always been considered one of theirs, having lived and been reared (in Macedonia) in their village house for several months back in 2002-03. But we should now consider them all the closer, and they should have a right to name our first child. Although our relationship won’t proceed in this fashion due to my opposition, they generally will suggest three names for the parents to choose from. I know many people who were named in this fashion…

But back to the wedding—the “bungur,” or pre-wedding party, was a grand occasion, with one particular custom a large part of it. This was the making, breaking, and distribution of “pogacha,” a traditional bread. We gave this honor to my 17 year-old sister, who was visiting for the wedding, and it went something like this: a small, foot tall table was setup in the living room of the house, upon which my sister was to make the dough for the bread. Surrounded by women and children (though my dad and I couldn’t miss it), she was to mix and knead the flour, oil, water, eggs, and sugar with her hands. All the while, the women sang traditional songs and dabbed my sister’s face with flour, jokingly but customarily to keep her from sweating. A little boy, our nephew, then placed a coin in the dough. The bread was thus placed in a pan and baked, and my sister led a dance in the yard. However, upon being baked came the occasion that associates this tradition with the bride and groom. A towel was placed over our nephew’s head, and the foot in diameter, steaming hot round bread was then broken over his head; one side for the groom’s family, one side for the bride’s. Whoever got the coin (my side) is to have good fortune. Further, however, this tradition—breaking the bread over a young boy’s head—is done to ensure that our first child is a boy. The bread was then broken up and distributed to guests before their departure.



The next day, relatives came early to the house to help prepare for the other guests and groom’s party who were to arrive. Although me and mine slept in the house, we distanced ourselves from the bride, her mother, aunts, and friends, and awaited the arrival of the wedding band. Meeting them on the street at noon, the event began with a flurry of traditional folk songs on brass and clarinet. Although this lasted longer than it should have due to my bride not being ready, we danced and entered the house to greet the other guests already there, eat some and listen to the music.

I, the groom, though was to begin the process of getting my bride from her chambers. This proceeded as such: upon being made aware that she was ready, party and all with myself in the lead and bride’s shoes in hand, went down the hallway to her room. The door was closed though, with her brother guarding it, so I had to pay him for the right to take his sister. (I paid off our nephew as well, asking him if I could take his aunt!) Upon entering the room, I bowed down upon one knee and placed my bride’s foot in her shoe. Customarily, and with the women saying “oh, there’re too big, put some money in,” I then stuffed some cash in the toe of the shoe to win their approval and slip her foot more comfortably in. (*Note, the shoes in fact fit quite well, and I was able to remove that cash and place it back in my pocket before it fell out!)



We then headed to the street for a few dances before we were to ride with the “starosvatici” to the reception. We did so in a decorated car parade, with horns blaring as we made our way the couple of miles through town.



This was the major aspect of the wedding that embodied customs different than our own, as upon arrival at the reception and greeting the guests, we then danced and danced and danced. Indeed, the dancing begins immediately and goes for hours, until the meal is served, but then continues until the guests have departed. Regarding the dances and songs, they are generally stories and requested by members of the wedding party and other guests, and there is even acting in them, such as when several men come to the aid of a supposedly sick man laying on the ground. While the tempo changes, the dance, called the “oro,” is as round as the word sounds, and people hold hands and slowly make rings of dancing guests who are able to casually rotate around the room, gaze at each other, and enjoy the affair.





Altogether, with 160 or so guests, our wedding was small by Macedonian standards, as my side was largely absent. Weddings here often have 300-400 guests, and some up to 600-700. It is a southern European tradition (as well as in the Near East) to have such large communal weddings, but they are a celebration that are deemed to be worthy of the presence of all friends and family.

A few other interesting customs that follow the wedding are the continuous bringing of cakes to the family (I think we have five in the freezer) and the drinking of warm brandy (“topla rakija”) the next day. As family and guests once again visit the house and bestow their congratulations, it is also a time when traditionally, and some families still in fact practice this, the sheets of the newlyweds should be hung outside the house to show that the marriage has been consummated. Being a modern couple, however, I took a bottle of ketchup, gave a squirt, rubbed it into the sheets, and presented it to the family. While laughing, my lovely mother-in-law shamefully jumped up to grab it, then ran out of the room to throw it in the wash!