Going to the ZAGS of Love

I got such a treat last night--I was a guest at a Russian wedding. My friend Aigul’s sister was getting married, and since I met the family at New Year’s, I was invited to this jubilee. Unfortunately, I came down with a cold and got sicker as the day went on, so I couldn’t fully enjoy the festivities. Still, I took it all in, and here’s my full report.

A Russian wedding is very different from an American one, regardless of religion. In fact, this family happens to be Muslim, but you wouldn’t know it from the service or reception. I think a lot of this has to do with the Soviet rule, but I don’t know if church services were the norm before that. In any case, the wedding ceremony is a legal affair, and the reception is a bacchanalian celebration. We Jews may know how to party, but these Russians put us to shame.

The wedding begins at ZAGS, a government administration where married couples are registered. Knowing this, I thought it would be a somber, official affair of signing documents. This is also how I picture a “city hall wedding.” Actually, the ZAGS hall was romantically decorated, and everyone was already dressed up. I, like most women there, wore boots but carried dress shoes in a plastic bag. The service was just like a religious one, only with no mention of G-d. The couple exchanged rings, took vows, kissed and, yes, signed documents (I cannot overstate the significance of dokumenti in Russian culture). After a photo-session was katatsya.

Katatsya literally means “to roll around.” I think so anyway, I’m too lazy to look it up. Figuratively, it means driving to different scenic locations in the city for more photo opportunities. I’d seen wedding parties do this in St. Petersburg and Ekaterinburg; sometimes they even stage funny scenes, like bridal tug-of-war. I’d always marveled at the women’s resolve to show off their gowns, despite the weather, but we all wore coats. In the little town of Beloyarsk, there aren’t so many picturesque places. We went to a Soviet monument with an eternal flame and a highway bridge by the forest. At each stop, after taking pictures, we boozed it up. I learned that here it’s perfectly legal for the passengers in a car to drink alcohol, just not the driver. This is when I started feeling ill, so I declined riding dirty and became more of a passive observer than an active participant.

Next we came to the cafe which had been rented out for the reception. Three long tables were arranged at right angles and over-flowing with food and drink. Some four hours after the salads and appetizers, we were unexpectedly served hot dishes. The hall was decorated with posters advertising marriage advice. For example, “To get to your golden wedding, the wife must have a silver character, and the husband--iron support.” One made me feel bad, with its proclamation that “Anyone sober at a wedding is a spy. With every glass of wine, we grow louder!” Indeed, I’ve never seen people drink so much, though Russians don’t get so obviously drunk, and I felt a bit of pressure. But I always got out of the (s)hot seat by pointing at my half-full wine glass and toasting with mineral water.

With food, drink and dancing, how different could a wedding reception really be? Very. The chief difference lies in the presence of the tagana. This is an entertainer hired not just to dj but also to lead games and organize the endless toasts. Actually, the games were a lot like the family’s New Year’s celebration, but with the tagana there, none of the guests had to assume control. Another big difference was the importance of money. First of all, there is no gift registry, so most people give as gifts something for the house and some cash. Then, at the party, there are many opportunities to donate money to the new couple, like raffles, auctions and paying the bridge and groom to kiss. Even the wedding cake was auctioned off, slice by slice. Another guest told me that at some weddings, you have to pay for your silverware! This struck me as very strange and un-romantic, but I guess it’s just a fun way for the family and friends to help the couple get started. In some of these games I even participated, as Aigul’s mom kept coming by and giving us hundred-ruble notes.

My favorite part of the night was the bitterness. I mean of course the tradition at a Russian wedding for the crowd to shout out gorko (“bitter”), so the couple has to kiss to make it sweet again. The funniest is after a toast, when people drink some vodka and start yelling, “It’s so terribly bitter!” At first, especially at ZAGS, the couple’s kisses were short and perfunctory. But as the night went on, they grew longer and more loving. So very sweet.

The reception, or at least the tagana’s shift, ended with wedding fireworks. I realized that I’ve been to two of Aigul’s family events and both included fireworks and games where men have to dance in women’s clothing. Then we went back inside and kept dancing. There was one song where we all light birthday candles and held them up around the dancing couple. I was so worried that the little boys would light each other's rattails on fire, but everyone survived unscathed. Word travelled quickly that the unknown guest was an exotic Amerikanka, and thanks to a little black dress I borrowed from my friend Olga, my dance-card was full. I felt bad about spreading my germs, but even worse refusing invitations to dance. So I split the difference, and spent some time dancing, some playing with children, and some sitting and blowing my nose.

At the end of the night, rather than sleep on Aigul’s mom’s floor, we took a taxi back to Ekaterinburg. The bride filled my purse with candy and gave us a couple bottles of wine for the road. As Aigul and her friend Katya drank, I thought about all the people at the wedding who’d tried to help me find a husband that very night. If nothing else, I have options.