"It tis an ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
'By thy long grey beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?
The bridegroom's doors are opened wide,
And I am next of kin;
The guests are met, the feast is set:
Mayst hear the merry din..."
It had to be seen to be believed. But even that didn't help. I'd hoped my photographs would show things to be quite logical, and that I had simply misconstrued what I had seen due to long nights of writing and Nintendo. But, that proved to be a false hope, as talking to other people only confirmed my fears.
Japanese weddings are really very bizarre.
Even though I had been here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan for 22 months, I had never had the opportunity to see a Japanese wedding up close and personal before. You could call it luck.
I don't really like weddings all that much - all that crying (usually from the bride's side of the family who can't believe that their little girl is going to marry that sleazy-looking misanthrope), and the speeches (from people the bride and groom are not sure if they know, but each has assumed the other has invited), and the money (because all Japanese people assume that AETs (assistant English Teachers) on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme are rich (even though we do make more money than the average Japanese teacher with 20 years experience).
The actual wedding ceremony itself is seen by about 10 people - usually the only people the bride and groom actually know. But after that short ceremony done in traditional Japanese garb, the true family circus begins. Fanfare and speeches and beer, oh my!
As soon as the three- to four-hundred guests are seated, and the gaijin (foreigner) entourage are seated next to each other so as to not scare the other guests, the lights are dimmed, the video camera is turned on, and a bright light is shone into the eyes of the person with the lowest tolerance for light (me). Then a spotlight drops down from the ceiling at the back of the hall and accidentally hits the fire alarm - but no one moves except the hall's employees who place a few towels over the alarm to muffle the noise.
Just so you know... here in Ohtawara, you have quite a lot of time between a fire alarm and the actual arrival of the fire alarm as the volunteer fire department usually has no idea where it is going thanks to the lack of street signs in the city.
Next, a curtain rises showing a set of doors... the doors slide open. A dry-ice machine begins spewing smog all over the hall. The loud music reaches a crescendo as the spotlight hits two very tiny people in a kimono and hakama.
The two people slowly begin to make their way down the tiny staircase as the guest applaud their deft grace at not falling down the stairs.
Needless to say, tripping and falling down the stairs ensues because the fog machine has obscured the steps, while the bright lights and strobing flash bulbs have totally disoriented one or both of the newlyweds.
After being helped up, the groom limps to the front of the room with the bride. Thank Buddha that's over with because everyone wants to drink (eating is optional). Ten minutes later, the bride exits with a flourish through a previously hidden door, and then returns with her father for the official giving away of the bride.
There are more tears (from the father who, even though he is now heavily medicated, still can't believe he's getting this bum as a son-in-law) and cries from the drunk men who want more beer from the waitresses.
Then it's time for the obligatory wedding cake photographs. The bride and groom carefully walk up a few stairs (those lights are still shining brightly), and stand in front of a three-metre (~10-foot) high plastic cake. Yum. Just like what your mom used to make. Unfortunately. Your mom wasn't a great baker.
The newlyweds grasp a large machete knife and stand poised to stab the cake should it make any sudden moves. Although the cake suddenly begins spewing 'fog' from it's base, the couple are too catatonic from the strobing flashes to move away.
The lights are dimmed, more smoke begins to spew from the base and fireworks sparklers flash from the sides, It looks just like a Saturn V rocket warming up for a blast-off.
Then, the couple are allowed to site down at the head table. There are more speeches from the now totally drunk men no one remembers inviting, sobbing from women who just don't understand how a trollop like her could get married before them, and still more cries for beer. Drunken karaoke, women being felt up, and free English lessons ensue - and that's just from the gaijin table!
The groom looks quite dapper in his tuxedo and leg brace (a reminder of his tumble). As they limp past the guests again to the front of the room, looks of confusion are visibly apparent on the bride and groom. Who are these people? Did you invite the gaijin? Who did? Are they rich? How much money did they give us? My leg hurts. How's your leg? Did you sleep with the gaijin? No, did you? Why doesn't someone get that bakayaro (stupid idiot) a beer? Can you seen anything? We should have eloped.
When I finally got a chance to talk to the groom, I kept mentioning the amount of video equipment being used. Do people really keep watching these things over and over again? Or is it to torture unknowing guests who have over-stayed their welcome at the house? I complained to him about the bright light shining constantly into my eyes. He then asked me a strange question - but since we were friends he knew I would have the appropriate answer.
"An-do-ryu-san (he called me Mister!), what would you do if you were rich?"
"I'd hire someone to beat up the photographers."
He handed me ¥20,000 ($200 Cdn/US) and smiled.
Finally, it was over. The guests stumbled out into the grey light and into their white cars, and then swerved over to the first of many bars.
The bride and groom were escorted into a waiting car and driven to their honeymoon hotel. The parents of the bride and groom then followed in a second car to the same hotel, where each set of parents would spend the night in a room on either side of the newlyweds. A quite night was had by all, as the smell of many a liquid muscle relaxant permeated the air.
And there you have it.
This wedding was more traditional than others I eventually attended. This one did NOT have music by Queen (We Are The Champions). There were NO lasers shooting coloured beams. And there was NO glitter in the air or hair. On the plus side, at this boring old traditional wedding, everybody got presents - though I think I left mine behind.
As for me? Here's the last two lines of the 20th verse of the Rime of the Ancient Mariner poem that I began this blog entry with:
"Why look'st thou so? With my crossbow
I shot the Cameraman."
Somewhere my love,
Andrew Joseph
Today's title is by the Georgia Satellites. IDO
PS: The Rime of the Ancient Mariner was written by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, and is my favourite poem (along with the Jaberwocky).
PPS: In the photo at the very top is fellow AET on the JET Programme, Jeff Seaman and his lovely bride (whose name I've forgotten!! - sorry!) (Her name is Masae - thanks Matthew!) The second photo shows a small hall where Jeff's reception took place. And the photo directly below shows a yawning Matthew behind Jeff and his new wife - after they have changed into their third and last costume of the evening.
PPPS: This was one of the later weddings I attended while in Japan. The one I wrote about is about 99 per cent accurate in description and antics. Unfortunately, it appears as though my house fire a few years ago took care of the photographic evidence.
PPS: In the photo at the very top is fellow AET on the JET Programme, Jeff Seaman and his lovely bride (whose name I've forgotten!! - sorry!) (Her name is Masae - thanks Matthew!) The second photo shows a small hall where Jeff's reception took place. And the photo directly below shows a yawning Matthew behind Jeff and his new wife - after they have changed into their third and last costume of the evening.
PPPS: This was one of the later weddings I attended while in Japan. The one I wrote about is about 99 per cent accurate in description and antics. Unfortunately, it appears as though my house fire a few years ago took care of the photographic evidence.
