On our honeymoon, the other guests were also mostly honeymooners, and young ones at that. It was a little like high school. No one spoke to anyone else.
This suited Andy fine. “If we meet someone new, you’re going to tell them all the same boring stories I’ve heard a million times. How we met. How you thought I was a terrorist because I had a beard, how I stole you from Ethan, and all that.”
Andy had a point. Never mind that my stories are so funny anyone should enjoy sitting through them at least three times. Maybe four. (Depends on how much alcohol you’ve had.)
I wasn’t going to actually admit he had a point, though. Not out loud. “I have lots of new stories,” I told him. “Tons of stories from our wedding week that you’ve never heard me tell.”
“I don’t need to hear those stories. I lived them, thanks,” Andy told me with a shudder.
I’m a little more social than Andy, but mostly I was just needling my husband. After the onslaught of family and friends at our wedding, I was fine with ignoring all other humans for a week or so. We didn’t actually chat with any guests until the Canadians arrived at what Andy and I had begun to consider our exclusive tea time.
After a brief, territorial moment of primordial possessiveness over the fruit tartlets, I gave myself a mental slap and said hello. They said hello back. Turned out the new couple was shocked at the lack of a tea time turnout. We promptly bonded with them over everyone else’s colossal stupidity in missing tea.
Their names were Mark and Yelena. They had just gotten married in Toronto. Yelena and I commiserated over the unexpected pitfalls of the massive bridal gown; apparently she unthinkingly sat in a chair with arms. She was promptly trapped. It took several people to extract her.
Mark and Andy, drinking something a little stronger than tea, commiserated over getting their brides out of the huge gowns.
Mark asked Andy, “What kind of fasteners did your wife’s dress have?”
Andy winced. “Laces. So many of them. With triple knots. You?”
“A thousand tiny buttons.”
“Ouch. Do you ever wonder what kind of throwback designer makes these dresses? I mean, they’ve seen the zipper, right? They know it exists.”
“Exactly!” Mark agreed, before grousing some more. “I had a knife, you know? Could’ve been 1 second instead of 1 hour!”
We learned that Mark’s parents emigrated from Croatia and Yelena’s parents emigrated from Serbia. I expressed surprise, given the historical enmity between the two regions. Yelena expressed surprise that I even knew that the countries existed, let alone their history. (Yay! One couple disabused of the willfully ignorant American stereotype! Only 2 billion more to go.)
Mark and Yelena’s wedding was no Romeo & Juliet story, however. All of the parents were happy with their child’s choice of spouse. The problems at their wedding — aside from the dress-trapping chair — involved Serbian wedding traditions gone awry.
The first tradition was the collection of the bride. Before the wedding, Marc and his groomsmen went to Yelena’s parents’ house. Marc had to “persuade” Yelena’s family to hand over the bride. This was supposed to be purely symbolic, though sometimes a Serbian family thinks it funny to produce a heavily veiled, wrinkled old grandmother.
The second custom involved the wedding reception. There the children try to “steal” the bride’s shoes, and the best man usually has to pay a token amount of money to ensure the shoes’ return.
Well, an enterprising youngster decided to combine both traditions. The boy stole Yelena’s shoe at her house, before Mark arrived to petition for his betrothed. He hid the shoe and refused to give it back.
The best man offered the kid a dollar.
The kid sneered and held out for a hundred.
The best man told the kid to forget it, the bride was fine with one shoe.
Yelena told her future husband and his best man that no, the bride WAS NOT fine with getting married in one shoe.
The best man apparently had no patience for tradition and watched too many episodes of 24. He wanted to torture the shoe’s location out of the kid. As torture was not, in fact, part of the wedding tradition, Mark told the best man to pay up. The best man told Mark that if Mark wanted the shoe, Mark could pay up.
Mark claimed to have no money.
The best man was forced to haggle. He got the kid down to $75.00 (all the money in his wallet).
Yelena got her shoe back. The wedding proceeded on schedule. The best man was bitter, but the groom had no patience for him. And no plans to pay him back.
“That’s the deal,” Mark explained. “If you’re the best man, paying the extortionist is part of your duties.”
I found this tradition hilarious. Since hearing Mark and Yelena’s story, I’ve learned that Indians, Pakistanis, and Armenians have similar bridal shoe blackmail practices. Other wedding shoe traditions abound. Timo, of the website Crazy Chinese Family, played “The Shoe Game” during his Finnish wedding reception (shoe discussion in the comments). There’s also an old Incan tradition where the groom puts a shoe on the bride’s foot.
Sometimes I ponder which culture’s bridal shoe history is the inspiration for Cinderella and her glass slipper. Other times I wonder if these shoe traditions evolved because elders wanted newlyweds to consider “walking in one another’s shoes.”
But mostly I figured it’s a mischievous crime of opportunity. The bride’s feet are going to hurt, she’s going to kick off her shoes, and those shoes are going to be the easiest thing to steal. Especially since she can’t run or even bend in many bridal gowns.
After we finished laughing over the stolen shoe and Mark’s hapless best man, Yelena changed the subject.
“What about you?” she asked. “Did you have any Chinese traditions?”
“Well,” I drawled, “There is one story about Chinese customs I haven’t told anyone yet. It’s a new story, so even my husband won’t be BORED.”
Andy gave me a horrified look.
“Tell me, tell me!” Yelena squealed.
“Well, if you think it would be INTERESTING,” I told her. (But really, of course, I was addressing Andy and his comments on my oh-so boring stories.)
Andy shook his head. Frantically.
I smiled at Yelena. “So there’s this absolutely fascinating Chinese tradition—”
Andy downed his drink. He choked a little.
I decided I had made my point and continued with, “—that the number four is bad luck, while the number eight is good luck. And I wanted four attendants, but my mother-in-law flipped out…”
Andy relaxed, sitting back in his chair, as I told the story of my encounter with Chinese superstition, and NOT the story of how we incorporated “something red” into our wedding day. But he shouldn’t have worried. I mean, we’d only just met Mark and Yelena.
I’d save the wedding lingerie story for tea time tomorrow.
19 thoughts on “Honeymooners (#77)”
New friends on the honeymoon. Mark and Yelena sound like a very nice couple. That kid was very demanding with the shoe – it was like he was boss 😀 I think it’s a matter of time before Andy gets used to you telling the stories he doesn’t want you to tell.
But you did tell us and 30 or so others about the little-something-red you incorporated in your wedding. You are a such tease! …………….we love the goss though!
Exactly. I’ve got stories to tell and they will be told. The more time passes, the less he cares, I think.
In our German-American family, the tradition is to steal the bride. It happens during the bridal dance where the guests pay to dance a few seconds with the bride. It never ends well. Sometimes the offending thief trips and falls with (or on) the (hopefully not pregnant) bride or worst yet someone steps on her gown during the flight and rips it. The best man takes up a collection from the guests to ransom the bride. The whole event kills about 30 to 45 minutes. Fortunately, no one has done it since the 60s but I saw quite a few brides terrorized by the whole deal.
A lot of cultures appear to have the “Money Dance,” but this is the first I’ve heard of bride-stealing in the midst of it.
Only men would come up with a stunt that wrecks the gown!
Shoes for the win! I am actually rather bad with all these traditions so the bridemaids planned everything and also few parts my parents (sawing together with my wife a tree trunk after the ceremony for instance…)
It is always interesting to see different traditions from around the world. Thinking back now I just realized that we never had a honey moon!
No honeymoon?! Oh, the humanity!
Looking at my own culture right now, I realize I’m clueless on these things. Pfft. I’ll have to do research, someday. XD
Hopefully there is plenty of time! I think he best plan is to steal whatever you like from everyone else’s cultures. Like Lucky Money. I am now a red envelope convert!!
Hmm, holding a bride’s shoe for ransom? That’s one way to make a living! Tea time with Mark and Yelena yielded a few good stories I bet
Oh, yeah, I loved their wedding stories. And the kid! gutsy dude.
In China it is also customary to hide the bride’s shoes! But they are hidden by the bride’s girlfriends, so when the groom comes to pick her up first he needs to give them money so they will open the door, and then he has to look for her shoes!
More wedding shoe extortion! It’s in every culture.
There are so many different wedding traditions around the world. I hope anybody cares about them at our wedding and will organize something. 😀
There you go! Cultural wedding assignments for all!
I saw the shoe game on Timo’s blog (and also Sara Jaaksola’s) and was so bummed I hadn’t heard of that tradition before my wedding. We didn’t play any games, but had I known of that one, I totally would have incorporated it!
Good on you for knowing your Croatian and Serbian history! I once met a guy in China who was from the Czech Republic. He asked where I was from and I told him I was American. He replied, “Then I guess you don’t know where the Czech Republic is.” Burn.
At least you didn’t say “Czechoslovakia” instead of “Czech Republic.” They HATE that.
Talk about being a smart kid. I bet he wished there were weddings every day so he could hide shoes and get big bucks just to give them back.
Yes, I can see it now. “The Shoe Thief!”