Dany lived with his parents and 2 of his 3 siblings in a 3-room apartment (lounge, kitchen, bedroom). Privacy didn't exist, even more so because they leave their front door open all day. Neighbours and visitors walked in and out freely; the tenants of the three other apartments on that floor had the same habit.

When I arrived a couple of hours before the ceremony, I found that all four apartments were being used as extensions of each other to receive the guests. Sofas had been added to one lounge, while loud music was playing in another. Most of the guests were neighbours from the building anyway, and they kept going around and up and down the stairs with pineapple juice and cookies. The older brother Tony was Dany's best man, and they were both sweating in their tuxedos while submitting to the torturous rite of a photo shoot, made even more folkloric by the fact the cameraman was an acquaintance and had no qualms about badmouthing the groom to make him sit still.
Soon all the women ran off to go stay with the bride, who lived a block away. I stayed with Dany until it was time to go to the church.

By then the electricity had gone, so the elevator was not working (we were on the 5th floor). We started walking down the stairs, but had to stop at every floor: women were waiting with bowls of rice. They showered us with it while loudly chanting improvised blessings for the groom according to an old popular custom:
"Eh! Weeeee-ha! Welcome to the beautiful bridegroom!"
"Eeeeeh!", everyone else would reply to each of her sentences.
"Eh! Weeeee-ha! May God give him happiness always!"
"Eeeeeh!"
After a few lines everyone concluded with a strident "Lililililililililili!", a very quick sound called a zalghoota. This joyous uttering accompanies a variety of celebrations: engagements, weddings, christenings, births...

We got into our cars and followed Dany's Range Rover all the way to the church in the usual madly honking procession that announces the event to the entire city. When I say "all the way to the church", I mean the 300 meters that separated us from it – the ceremony was happening in the local church. It is unusual to get married so close to home, as people usually go all the way to their family's original village, unless they pick a place they find particularly beautiful.

We sat down in the cool of the stone-built church while Dany and Tony waited outside for the bride. The custom is for them to enter the church together; there is no giving away of the bride at the altar. More loud honking announced that Wafa', the queen of the day had arrived. When they did enter, the guests were taken by the moment and instinctively started clapping. Church or no church, the sound of applause would be heard several more times during the ceremony, not begrudged by the priest.

There is a small park adjoining the church, and that's where the cocktail happened after the vows had been taken. A traditional band in folkloric garb was waiting for the newlyweds at the gate. One man was playing a large drum, pounding on the front of it and brushing it with a slender stick on the back. There were several derbakke players. These are medium drums that are held under the arm and played with the hands; each plays a simple rhythm and it's the combination of them that creates the complex tunes that nobody can resist dancing to. There was also a trumpet and two fire-bearers. The troupe led the couple around the garden to a clearing where they danced in front of the guests. Sabres were brought for them to dance with, a reminder of the sabre dance that used to be performed in the villages by expert dancers.

Eventually the couple and their family lined up to kiss and receive blessings from everyone in turn. Given my experience with weddings, I didn't know what formula to use, so I perked my ears for what everyone else said. It hit me that I wasn't sure what to use in other languages either. English "congratulations" is used for too many things and doesn't really mean anything. French "Félicitations" is the same, and as for "Tous mes vœux de bonheur", it sounds very old, and the more warmly you say it, the more quaint it sounds. The Lebanese blessings felt very much alive in contrast. "May God give them happiness!" "May God give them good fortune!" "I pray for your happiness!"
And to the groom's sisters: "May your turn come!" With their taste for bestowing blessings, the Lebanese are not content with congratulating the newlyweds and their families: they spread the love to everyone present by wishing the same for them or their children. "May the day come where we will celebrate your happiness!", they say.
Since I seem to have "unmarried woman" written on my forehead, and despite the fact I didn't know any of the attendees except Dany and family, I must have heard "May your turn come!" 30 times or more – including from his sisters themselves. When they could escape from all the congratulating, we slipped away hand in hand to sit down somewhere quiet. That was something new for me too, the physical closeness of the people in that social background. The fact they have no privacy at home accustoms them to express liking by touch well into adulthood age. Men, women, everyone holds hands; Dany came to hold mine several times during his own wedding without even thinking about it.

There was the usual throwing of the bouquet, champagne popping and cutting of the cake before everyone headed back home. There was still no electricity, so up the stairs we went, to be again showered with rice and flowers. On the fifth floor, Dany's mom was waiting with a plate of dough made of yeast. It is traditional for the bride to throw it above the door: if it sticks, it is a good omen. Dany cheated by carrying Wafa' so that she could slap the dough solidly into place, and everyone entered after them, kicking off their shoes and getting started on the bad jokes now that the ceremonial part was over. In the apartment next door the music was playing louder than ever: as usual, the whole neighbourhood was enjoying the party whether they wanted to or not. The girls whisked away the bride to dress her in something more comfortable, and themselves changed into their pajamas before returning to the lounge. I left among the last guests, despite protests that I should stay.

This was on September 13, 2001. A year later, on September 12 precisely, another friend was getting married, and a few days earlier we were all invited to a pre-marriage party thrown by himself and his bride in a restaurant far from Beirut, in the Armenian city of Anjar. There I was able to observe more customs to integrate to this article. The evening started with a big traditional meal, although we never made it past the mezza because we got up to dance. They were playing orientalized Armenian music that was just right for our national dance, the dabke. While we were holding hands to dance in a ring, rhytmically clapping our feet on the floor, I noticed that two items were being carried into the dance -- a bottle of arak and a basket with vegetables and a block of henna. A dancer would hold it aloft for a few moments then pass it on to another dancer. In the meanwhile the bride-to-be was crowned with a veil and carried aloft on a chair.

After a while all the men were shooed to the opposite side of the room while the women gathered around the bride. They poured a little water (or was it the arak?) onto the henna and rubbed it to obtain the colourful paste. With it a cross was drawn inside the palm of her hand. They pressed a coin into it and closed her fist over it, then traced another cross on the back of her hand before wrapping it in some cloth. They sang verses over her that I couldn't understand, and presently the men were allowed back. The dancing resumed, and she went around dabbing some of the now-blessed henna on our arms -- clearly, to spread her good fortune and bliss. A little later I underwent a little variant of this ritual when some of the guys produced a bottle of henna-coloured nail polish and proceeded to paint the guests' little finger. A few days later, during the actual wedding, the bride conveyed blessings to her female guests one last time -- by stepping on their foot after the ceremony.

In Armenian families, the yeast dough seen above is apparently replaced with a jar full of candies and coins which the bride breaks with a stick. This custom helps to conjure the evil eye and to spread happinness and plenty in the family.

While I'm at it, let me share with you some additional information about marriage in Lebanon. Here are the regulations of our different religious communities regarding marriage.

. The Druze community forbids the wedding of a Druze with a non-Druze.

. A Sunni or Shia Muslim man can marry a Christian or Jewish woman without her having to convert herself, but a Muslim woman cannot marry a Christian or a Jew.

. Catholic men can get permission to marry a Muslim woman and the couple receives the blessing at the sacristy, but the spouse must not try to turn her husband away from Catholicism, and the children must be baptized and raised as Catholics (children are always given, by law, the father's religion -- but I know of people who asked otherwise).

. The Orthodox church doesn't allow wedding with Muslims unless they convert.

. In the Israelite community, there can be no wedding if both parties are not Jewish.

Keep in mind that there is a large proportion of people who completely disregard them to marry the person they love whether the religious authorities like it or not. The most common practice is having a civil wedding in Cyprus, as civil weddings are not practiced in Lebanon. The government has put forward a proposal to allow this practice, which has been demanded by the people for a long time, but the religious authorities are fiercely opposed to it. While we wait for a solution, couples continue going to Cyprus. This habit has gone down into tradition by now, and in national jokes.

A few (hopefully) discarded customs

Three customs pertaining to marriage have been banished from all except primitive mountain villages. The first is that the bride enters the house backwards to mean that a faithful wife leaves the marriage only feet first, ie once she passed away. The second is for the bride to lie on the ground in the house while the groom steps 3 times over her, hereby meaning that he's marking his new and exclusive possession. The third, universally seen as barbaric now, is to exhibit the soiled bed linen of the wedding night in order to show off the bride's chastity, the groom's virility, and the happy accomplishment of marital duties. Now there are honeymoons instead...

Article and photos © Joumana Medlej