The "Toy" - Azeri Weddings

It is currently fall break which has given me a lot more time to reflect on my recent experiences in good old Azerbaijan. Today I will be telling you about my first wedding experience combined with all I have heard from other volunteers…So as most of you have already guessed most couples are set up by their parents and even though the bride can say no, the marriage is pretty much arranged. Traditionally there are two weddings: a bride’s, after which the bride goes back home, and the groom’s, which is the official one and the bride goes with her new husband. In smaller towns and villages the “Japanese flag” tradition is still practiced. For those who haven’t guessed it, that involves a family member checking the post marital sheets and in some cases hanging them from the window to prove the marriage has been consummated. If for some reason there is no blood the girl is returned to her family and is screwed for the rest of her life (figuratively and literally). Most know that us women don’t always bleed during our 1st time, but in Azerbaijan trying to explain that phenomena will get you just laughs and eye rolls. It is also not unheard of for mommy or daddy to listen at the door or actually sit in on the sacred act in order to spot fakery. Apparently this doesn’t happen so much to the more liberated Azeri’s in Baku, but in the regions such practices are quite common.

A wedding is essentially a big party where the bride and groom sit on a pedestal and look miserable. They are not supposed to smile in order to signify their sadness for having to leave their families. The wedding hall is divided into a women’s section where the women sit and gossip, and a men’s section where the vodka flows and the more interesting conversations occur. After the plov and dolma are served and the eating ceases, the dancing begins. Azeri music is like nothing I have heard before… It is super fast and dancing to it consists of men and women doing the step accompanied by some hand twirls and waves. I like electronic music, its fast and I can dance quite well to it. It is due to that I always thought I could handle fast…Boy was I wrong…my attempts to do something on the dance floor resulted in me looking like an octopus or a tree on a windy day. Sometimes you can get away with not dancing by blending in with the crowd, but as a foreign object I was not that lucky. Grandma spotted me from across the hall and literally dragged me to the ‘dance floor.’ I remember holding on to the tablecloth until there was danger of pulling everything of it resulting in me having to give in to the awful music. I could have at least had a laugh at this had I managed to slip some vodka in my coke but that was a doomed mission from the start. Throughout all of this sober dancing random people go and take pictures with the happy, or should I say ‘unhappy’ looking couple. It doesn’t matter who you are, whether the couple knows you or not, whether dressed or underdressed, you must go to the pedestal and take a picture in order to be cool. I have contributed one of mine for the purpose of this blog entry. This experiences lasted from noon till five…longest 5 hours of my life…