The other night, I was able to attend my first traditional wedding since being here in Jordan.  I didn’t actually get to see the ceremony (most guests don’t), but I was able to go to the party, which I went to with another American couple and many of the local guards from the Embassy, whom I have come friends with since I started my new job.

The wedding was of one of the guards, Muna, to her second husband, Saleh. The party itself took place near a refugee camp between Amman and Zarqa, in a very small wedding hall built above several closed storefronts. There was a tunnel that cars could pass through leading into a small parking lot/courtyard. I was originally told that this area would not be safe, but we decided to brave it anyway, and with the full assurances of our guard company, we never felt unsafe the whole time we were there.

The wedding started with the very loud procession of the cars carrying the bride/groom and family. The bride and groom were driving a fancy convertible, adorned with flowers on the back and front. They must have set off the alarm system because the burglar alarm was honking madly and the lights were flashing. Once they drove into the tunnel, the noise from the car honking and the drum band and bugler were intense. The cars drove into the courtyard and parked around the back of a small decorated gazebo. The drummers and bugler kept playing, singing songs that one of our party, Fathi, told me meant good tidings that the marriage would be long and fruitful. At one point, I swear they broke in to Hark the Herald Angels Sing, but it might have just been my imagination.

The couple stepped into the gazebo, where they stood for a good 15 minutes while people took pictures and sang, danced and ululated. They also shot fireworks off behind one of the parked cars and lit sparklers, which was spectacular but also made me feel a bit like I might spontaneously combust next to all of the ignitable substances. The bride looked beautiful, totally unlike what she looks like at work, but absolutely amazing nonetheless. She was not smiling, however, and my companion Fathi told me it might be related to the fact that she had been married before, yet her new husband seemed to be penalizing her for her not being a virgin. I found this unfortunate, but it is quite common in this area.

After they stood in the gazebo, they processed slowly to the hall, where there were several small tables. The crew from the Embassy commandeered a table right next to the roped-off catwalk that had been created on the floor with rosepetals serving as the red carpet. The ropes were made of yellow scarves and each anchor had yet another sparkler on it. The bride and groom walked down the walkway with the sparklers blazing to the dance floor. Muna sat in a chair while her new husband circled her head with an urn of incense. Then they switched seats and did the same thing. Then they walked up to the stage, where two chairs were laid out like thrones.

The music began and they started their first dance. Fathi said it was modern music (i.e. not good in his eyes) and was probably due to Muna’s love of hip-hop music! In any case, they danced, and then a guy with a large circular piece of fabric came dancing around them. It was very similar in appearance to a whirling dervish, twisting in and out and around of the couple. Then, a guy dressed in a black horse costume rode in and circled the couple. My arabic teacher said that the symbolism of the black horse relates back to medieval times, when knights would ride in and the man would have to defend the woman. Very interesting.

The rest of the wedding was very normal. Dancing, cake, soda, etc. There is no actual food at a wedding, just cake. The men did a dance simlar to the “hora” that we do at weddings, called the debkah. Some of the guards, who are usually very reserved when I see them at work, had footwork that was to die for! They were jumping SO high, it was unbelievable.

I am glad that I got to experience this, as it is a rare one for me, since Bubba doesn’t work directly with Jordanians, so it very hard for us to get these opportunities. They don’t take pictures very often in this culture, so I didn’t bring my camera. But I will remember this experience always.