Mazal Tov

So Saturday morning Cindy and I got up early to drive to Pittsburgh with some friends who were also invited to a wedding there.

We checked into our hotels Saturday afternoon and then went for a dinner cruise on the rivers of Pittsburgh. The Allegheny and Monongahela rivers join to form the Ohio river at Pittsburgh, so they count that as three rivers. (The bride grew up there and seems proud of their having three rivers.) It was nice to get a look at the city that we wouldn't have otherwise, on such a whirlwind tour.

I had never been to a Jewish wedding before so I can add this to my list of American experiences. (I had seen my friend Matt break a glass under his foot in order to spite his Christian father-in-law but that doesn't really count.)

As a groomsman, I had to get there a couple of hours early to practise. All that seemed very normal; groom waiting at the altar (ok, not an altar but a tent; but Christian churches don't have real altars either, so why do we say it like that?), groomsmen escorting bridesmaids in, bride brought in by her father (and mother!). But once the ceremony started the differences became bigger. The first thing they did was sign the marriage contract, which the groom assented to despite the fact that it was written in Aramaic. The rabbi read a little of that out (not too much phlegm at that stage, he only read a few sentences.)

Then he gave a sermon/roast of the bride (everyone was laughing) before saying, I think it was seven, blessings in Hebrew. (That's when it started to get a bit phlegmatic.) And the bride and her mother and (I think) the groom's mother, all held hands and did seven laps around the groom. That can take quite a while in a wedding dress!

The bride and groom had to drink from both the glass of joy and the cup of sorrow (more Hebrew blessings on the wine). I don't know why they didn't just skip the cup of sorrow, that might have saved them some worries later. Then a glass was broken underfoot and there was much yelling of "Mazal tov!"

And after the meal they all started dancing the hora. The bride and groom were hoisted up on chairs and danced about; then the bride's parents; and then the groom's gentile parents, who probably weren't expecting that.

Food and drinks were good and I got a souvenir kippah, inscribed inside with the date of the wedding. Oh, and instead of bonbonnieri our gifts were classic novels; I already had a copy of Ivanhoe, so I swapped it with Cindy for Walden.


I should also mention how hard it is to wear a kippah. I've realised that I tilt my head back when I laugh, because every time I laughed that day, even the slightest chuckle, my kippah fell off. Still, I couldn't bring myself to use the bobby-pins provided.

After the reception we hit the road straight away and got home to Bloomington just before midnight.