[Diary of an Expat Bride] The receiving end

I tried not to let it bother me, except that we had had a small confrontation during our album photo shoot a few hours before. She had left without saying goodbye to me, and the lack of her presence now indicated that she was probably still angry. I prayed silently that she would get over it and at least come up to kiss us before we got married. Suddenly, my eyes flew open and I recalled a conversation from a few days previous. Sinem-teyze said she didn't think it was necessary for my parents to be in the receiving line to greet our guests since they didn't know anybody and didn't speak Turkish. Can and I vehemently disagreed, and we insisted that they be included. Yet, here we were almost 45 minutes before the wedding and she hadn't come to get my parents to take them to the entrance to receive our guests. I told this to Can, and he called his mom. She hung up on him, which sadly confirmed my fears that she was angry with us. Nevertheless, my parents should be in that line. We called Can's brother to come upstairs, and he took them to the right place. Shaken up more than ever, I prayed to have the strength to get through the next few hours. How could she be so childish on this day?

In typical American weddings, the grandparents and parents of the bride and groom are walked down the aisle. They usually wear some sort of corsage or boutonnière and are seated in the front rows. In Turkey, the parents don't wear flowers but receive the guests as they enter the venue where the ceremony will take place. They also sit at the front-most table. My parents had even practiced how to say “hoş geldiniz,” which means “welcome” in Turkish. It's not so easy with a Michigan accent. I hoped that they were doing all right downstairs and hoped that Sinem-teyze had shown them where to stand and was introducing them to people. My mother is very shy, and greeting 350 total strangers in a foreign language must have been intimidating for her.

After a while, the room cleared out and the film crew and photographers came to the room to film us going down the hallway and stairs. This would be played on a large screen right before we made our dramatic entrance. I clung to Can's arm for dear life, and the photographers tried to get me to smile. I tried, but only managed a few wobbly attempts. Can was surprised because usually I am the calm one in the relationship under pressure. This time, he was talking me through every step and trying to get me to laugh. He was so excited to get married, he kept walking too fast and I was doubly afraid I would fall. The photographers laughed and told him to slow down. We finally made it down the chiffon draped winding staircase and to the big, closed wooden doors leading into the ballroom. The manager of the orchestra we had hired tried to help me arrange my white veil over my face. We gasped as we realized there was a big rip in it. We hurriedly tucked it behind my head, with no other choice but to walk down the aisle without the veil over my face. It wasn't a detail or custom I had put serious thought into, so it wasn't something that bothered me too much.

We heard the music we had selected while our slideshow was playing and peeked inside as pictures from our childhood and families were shown on the big screen. After, the theme song from the movie “Top Gun” (Can's favorite song) played while the video shot just minutes before of us leaving the room was shown. Then, the doors were opened, and we entered with a spotlight on us while our guests stood and clapped. I pasted a smile on my face and focused on the dance floor, where a long, orchid covered table and ornate chairs were waiting for us. Seated at the left corner was the official who would marry us, wearing a long, red satin robe and a high, yellow embroidered collar. We carefully sat down, and she asked for the two people we had chosen to be our witnesses to please come forward. As of this writing, the witnesses must be Turkish citizens and non-immediate family. However, this was according to one lawyer I spoke with; many other people have said things have changed. Still, to be safe, choose a Turkish citizen and non-immediate family member to be your witness. I chose my best friend's mom, a woman I had known for almost 10 years and is basically my Turkish mother. She came to our nikah masası (marriage table) along with Can's uncle, a famous lawyer in Turkey. From here, things for me got blurry, but I remember the justice of the peace asking our witnesses their names and places of birth. Then, she asked me to state my full name, parents' names and place of birth into the microphone. She then asked me if I took Can to be my husband. I said, “Evet!” and all of our guests started clapping. I was so relieved that I had remembered Turkish despite my nerves! When it was Can's turn, he forgot to say his parents' names and the official had to repeat the question. Can's friend joked from a nearby table that the foreign bride knew better Turkish than the Turkish groom. Everyone laughed but clapped loudly when he said, “Evet!”