An hour into the wedding party we attended on Sunday my wife tells me she still believes that our own wedding party was the best that she has ever attended. She says this often, especially when we are attending someone else’s party, and I always feel a strange sense of pride even though I’m not really responsible for it.
Today we are attending a wedding party for one of my wife’s ex-students. I don’t know the bride (the aforementioned ex-student, Miho) or the groom (a healthy looking chap named John). Some of my wife’s ex-coworkers are in attendance, and they ask about her job with barely concealed looks of envy. Some of them had to work on the Sunday morning before this party.
A large assembly of friends and family has been squeezed into a cement room too small for the occasion. We all sit on folding wood and leather chairs that threaten to snap shut upon entry or exit. Guests need to get up and sit down and get up again to eat or drink because all the action is at the other end of the room. The difficulty level of this operation increases exponentially with the amount of alcohol consumed. The grey cement color of the room is offset by brightly colored overhead lights, and above the bar the Ramones are quoted in giant yellow letters: Hey / Ho / Let’s / Go!
In the Japanese way people are assigned seats at tables, and there is little opportunity to speak to anyone at another table without awkwardly breaking into their table’s conversation. With little room to stand or mingle you get up only to reload your plate with onion rings or pizza or to refill the beer pitcher. You sit and talk with the people seated in your group – usually people you already know. Owl City and AKB48 play from the speakers as multi-cultural background music.
I like the atmosphere of the party. It isn’t the flowery, glitzy style with Japanized French/Italian/Spanish food. This is a more unpretentious way to celebrate a marriage. The crowd is mixed with a liberal helping of foreigners like me who break enough of the traditional customs of a Japanese wedding party to make it interesting and unpredictable.
Upon entering we each were photographed with a polaroid camera and we wrote our name and wedding message at the bottom of the resulting mugshot. These photos end up in a box and Miho and John pull them out at random to award a prize and extract a short speech from the winners. Several people who don’t know the bride or groom win, including myself, and it makes for an awkward but oddly personal moment that wouldn’t have happened otherwise.
The groom’s father makes a speech, and like all the speeches of the day it is translated into the other language of this bilingual event. The father is dressed like a gangster but is soft-spoken and friendly and looks like the kind of person you’d want on your side in a bar fight. His theme of two families joining together combined with the black silk suit can’t help but bring forth images the Godfather.
We listen to live musical performances by friends of the couple who all seem to be very gifted and happy to be the center of attention. The bride and groom look equally happy to relinquish the limelight for a while so it appears to be a win-win situation.
Three hours pass, and we get up with the rest of the group to leave. Our gracious hosts are waiting at the door to give us a small souvenir from the event and a personal thanks and goodbye. It is a nice touch and they both look spectacularly happy. And I’m sure that this wedding party will be the best one that John and Miho will ever attend.
