Two Weddings in Two Cities in 18 Hours

I have been in Tel Aviv for over 6 months and had not yet attended a wedding. However, in the last 18 hours, I have attended two.

It is more than strange to be coming up on 43 years old and still being single, especially when you do not like dating. Autumn has usually been a solemn period in my life. It has symbolized death to me while the spring has symbolized life. Grass and leaves turn brown and wildlife goes into hibernation. The summer warmth gets pushed away with the autumn chill and the smell of the biological breaking down of the wet leaves. I get a year older and closer to my mortality, wondering why I am where I am. I reflect. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I5NAPZp2w-o

I have always wanted to have a wife, children, dogs. To myself, I feel that I have been ready to move to this stage for the last ten years or so. Yet, I have not accepted anyone as a wife. Many questions cross my mind as to why. Somehow, I know that the deep intuitive people that have known me for most of my life would be able to tell me.

Last night, I attended one of the most lavish weddings of my life. The bride was from Madrid and the groom, Israeli. I really like them both so much. I knew the bride from my Hebrew class. The spectacular setting was at the 5-star David Citadel Hotel in Jerusalem overlooking the wall of the Old City. Both Sephardic and Ashkenazi rabbis attended the ceremonies. I estimated 400 people attending. A band, a grand ballroom, fancy food and desserts, party trinkets, etc. were abundant to excessive. The wedding began at 7:00 PM and ended at 4:30 AM. I was home at 6:00 AM after sunrise.

I participate gladly at first in honoring the union and celebrating their finding each other. I dance, sing, eat, drink, and schvitz. For those that have not attended a Jewish wedding, holding the bride, groom, and their families up in chairs while you dance is alike to doing Bikram Yoga in a parka in 103 degrees. Your suit gets soaked in sweat but it’s still so much fun. All of the pressure is on your biceps. I told one of the Spanish guests that, “Estoy sudando como puta en iglesia”. You go back to your table with sweat pouring off your head as you sit to begin the meal.

I can confirm that the canned Wedding Music is international. The standards, of
YMCA
Play that Funky Music, White Boy
It’s Raining Men
I Will Survive
Shout, and of course, the ballad clips such as the
Wake Up little Suzy/Tutti Frutti/Jail House Rock/Let’s Twist Again/Jitterbug

are distributed to DJ’s around the planet. These ballads literally keep you on your toes as the rhythm changes on a dime and you have to keep up. These are often distributed around different times during the reception. I promise not to put anyone through these at my wedding or any of my kids’ Bar Mitzvahs.

We honor those that have chosen to begin a family. It’s a joyful time for sure. Yet, I felt a sadness throughout much of it. I knew hardly anyone there. I always feel older at these things while the couple and their friends seem the same age. There were many reveling dancing 20-somethings apparently having a blast and dancing until dawn. It’s like living in New York. You are around so many interesting beautiful people yet feel so lonely. Of course, there are video cameras everywhere and you have to put on your best “having a blast” face at all times. You watch the cameras scan the area and kick it up a notch as when as they approach, clapping and smiling; each smile pushing you further away, feeling more and more lonely. The chocolate fountains, cake, desserts, and even the 3:00 AM snacks try to lure you into instant gratification but you know better. They will push you further down the hole. Alcohol is a depressant so there is no help in getting trashed. So, you isolate yourself by sitting alone. You could approach strangers and compete with the blasting music to meet someone but you are no shape to put yourself out there when you are ashamed of being alone for so long and your self-esteem feeling low. So, you drift around the room, trying not to attract attention but feeling that everyone sees that you don’t match the intended mood. You try not to show your melancholy, so starkly contrasted by the revelers of couples and lovers dancing and celebrating.

I felt that I had had more than enough and held up my happy face for long enough when 1:30 AM came around. However, no one had left. I knew I had to cab it to the mini-bus that would take me on the 1-hour trip to Tel Aviv. I would then cab it home. I was told that the wedding had ordered a bus for those going to Tel Aviv and that it would leave after the wedding. The last song ended at 4:20 and the bus left 30 minutes later. I got home at 6:15 AM and had to think about the next wedding party that I had to attend that began at noon.

I was an hour late to the next wedding party for my other woman friend at my Hebrew school. She is a sweet non-Jewish and heavily-tattooed American woman married to an Israeli. They were married in May and this was their reception. It was mellow with a quiet jazz band and great food. It was a nice contrast to the evening before. I lasted only a few hours as everything had to shut down to prepare for Shabbat.

My birthday is Sunday. I am where I am. I have opportunity, adventures, and so much to come in life. My support group is physically in another country but I will build one here. After all, I am the same man I was in Atlanta. Another birthday will come and go. I believe that being cynical and resigned is the easiest way to live. It is also a low form of existence and it drains the spirit. I have been cynical in this entry to some extent. However, I give myself permission to feel the full range of emotions. People in Tel Aviv snicker when I tell them that I want to live in Israel. They complain of how hard life is here. Granted, I have always been here during a time of peace. Yet, my response to their complaints is always, “Great! We have an opportunity to repair the country and build one that is great and is a great example to the world”.