Ukrainian Odds & Ends

Even though the wedding was the prime focus, I did end up making the rounds to everybody's houses. That's always fun. They only need the slightest excuse to crack open a bottle of vodka. Me, I was getting used to drinking it for breakfast. So in addition to the nuptials, I did take other pictures. Here are some of them:

This is Cousin Vasily and his very pretty (and extremely nice) wife, Oksana. Yes, it's true; many of my cousins have made a concerted effort to marry girls named Oksana - except for Cousin Arsen and Cousin Bogdan. They both married women named Lesa. Speaking of that, here's Arsen, Lesa, Andri, Volodya and Orest:

This is the best of several shots I took even though Andri wasn't looking anywhere near the camera. Here's me with my buddy Orest:

He's quite a fellow. Since my last visit, he's learned how to walk and how to be REALLY LOUD. Here he is at one of his louder moments:

Speaking of young folks, here are some new additions. This is Marika and Roman's (sister and Roman-in-law to Ivas, the guy who just got hitched) son, Maxim:

Cute kid. Marika's mom, Olya, told me that Marika almost died during delivery. But she didn't. So there. Next we have Cousin Bogdan's son, Yura:

That's his wife, Lesa there with him. Yura was actually born on my last day of the first trip to Peremyliv. When I left, he didn't even have a name. Here are Bogdan and Lesa with Yura's grandpa, the notoriously taciturn Cousin Hennik:

Ivas and I were driving through the village and came upon Cousin Volodya (Cousin Roman's son) out driving a horsecart of sorts:

It's funny. When people see that a good deal of farm work is still done with horses and carts and whatnot, they seem to think it's really charming - at first. Then they just get used to it, because nobody's doing it to be colorful, it's just the way they've done things for a long time. Me, I don't even notice horsecarts anymore - unless a relative is holding the reins:

It seems that I made a friend during my stay. His name is Kuchma, after the former terribly corrupt Ukrainian president. Cousin Arsen got him from his Igor-in-law who found him in a box by the side of the road:

I liked him because he was friendly and fearless.

And this guy here is by no means new to the world. He's Cousin Arsen's dog, Bari. Sure, he's 16 years young, missing an eye (and he's blind in the eye he has), deaf, almost toothless, but he still soldiers on in defense of the yard:

Well, it was quite a visit. I went for days and days without speaking English and that was just fine. But the time came for me to meet the train in Ternopil to take me to stupid Odessa. Cousin Ivan's Igor-in-law was nice enough to give me a lift. Cousin Vasily and his wife Oksana joined us:

Notice how everybody is bundled up? Well, that's because it was really cold! It was around 35 degrees. Cripes! I did get my train and thanks to the fact that I bought my ticket ahead of time, I got a place on a sleeping car which meant sleep. Yeah, the trip down to Odessa this spring was the worst. But this time it was really quite fine. Odessa itself wasn't too terrible. I still don't like it at all, but ıt was bearable. This is a shop called Mister Dog, because why not?

Here are the famed Odessa Steps. Yes, I know that they're more dramatic when taken from the bottom. But there was no way in hell I was gonna do that, because it meant that I'd have to climb back up them.

And lastly, this is the kind of urban blight that's all over town at the moment. Thank you, taggers!

And so I went off to the airport, got hassled by customs dweebs (again!) for having champagne and flew the hell away. Lord, this country sucks. But my relatives rock.

The Best Ukrainian Wedding So Far, Part 3

Just a few thıngs to add pertaining to the ceremony: if everything had gone according to bygone tradition, the wedding procession would have been headed up by a wailing woman, not by Cousin Arsen's band. Back in the day, every village had a so-called "wailing woman," who led both funeral and wedding processions. Her function at the former was obvious, but at weddings, it was her job to announce to the village that all happiness for the bride was over and that she now served her husband. Yeah, weddings were not thought of as especially happy occasions. Maybe that's why everybody looks so grim. Anyhow, another practice that has fallen by the wayside is the bride's father bestowing upon the groom a stick with which to beat his daughter when she got out of line. Those two things used to be fairly major components of the ritual. Thank God they're done with both of them. Another thing they're slowly phasing out is the two-day reception - the first night at the bride's house, the second night at the groom's. When Cousin Arsen got married to his first wife, Zoriana, they had a two-day receptionç At the end of the second night, they both looked like thy were ready to die. Perhaps the one-day marathon reception is a better choice. And speaking of that...

Cosmopolitan, suburban Hrimailiv was the location. They've got this hall that was renovated special for these kinds of function. In fact, Cousin Vasily had his reception here in August. In the dining hall, the chairs match and all the tables are the same height, so yeah, real class. There's just one thing: no restroom. No running water, no nothin'. You gotta use the outhouse. But that's OK, everybody's used to it. OK, so I arrived with more than three dozen well-wishers in the precariously overloaded bus. There was no sign of Ivas and Oksana, so we waited. And waited. And so on. Cousin Arsen explained that they were visiting the cemetary to pay respects to Oksana's mother. Eventually they did arrive:

Then everybody lines up to congratulate them. Monetary gifts go in the box:

There's all this handshaking and kissing that goes on till the very last person has done their handshaking and kissing. Then everyone piles into the dining hall. Only the bride and groom have reserved seats, everybody else has to fight for theirs. I was lucky, I sat near Cousin Vasily (and his very pretty and super-nice wife) and Cousin Ivan (Ivas' dad). So the pressure was off and we drank. And drank some more. Here is the scene in the hall:

Here's Cousin Ivan (on the right) and his boss, Ivan:

And in the distance, Cousin Andri (on the left), Cousin Volodya and Volodya's wife Oksana in the middle:

And that was just the beginning. Things devolved from there in fine fashion. The band started playing:

People dressed like gypsies and danced crazy:

Inside, people were singing:

That's Cousin Roman and his son, Cousin Volodya. They're two guys who love to sing. They don't even need to be drunk, but they kind of were. Everybody was!There were also weird Red Army vs. the Nazis that everybody seemed to enjoy. Cousin Arsen officiates:

Eventually, the drunks kind of took over. This guy, Sergey, in the middle was probably the worst of all. He was one of the groomsmen, but he had trouble handling his liquor:

Here's Cousin Andri and Roman-in-law checking to see if I was OK. I was!

Honestly, I drank a lot, but everything was fine - not that I'll drink that much every day. After many hours of celebrating, the parents got to dance with their kids:

There was this ceremony to take off Oksana's veil:

Children fell asleep:

Fathers of the bride smiled:

Here's just a sample of the dancing. This was sometime around three in the morning:

Things chugged along till 6:00, when we piled into the bus to Peremyliv. That Sergey guy really wanted me to drink with him, but I'd had enough. He ekpt bugging me till he passed out. Incidentally, it was damn near freezing - something like 36 degrees or something. I got to bed just as it was getting light. My rest didn't last long, Cousin Arsen got me up shortly after 10 to tell me that he was playing another wedding down the road in Khorostkiv and that I should go over to Ivan's house where they were still celebrating. OK yes, I was hungover, but not badly. I went over to Ivan's house with Arsen's wife and guess what they were doing? Singing and drinking, so I did the latter while listening to the former. Yeah, more drinking. That' exactly what I needed. Poor Cousin Arsen, he'd just gotten done playing for almost an entire day and now he had to do it again. That evening, I took it easy and went over to Cousin Roman's house, where we - you guessed it - drank vodka and talked of various things.

And that was the wedding.

The Best Ukrainian Wedding So Far: Part 2

The next day, or rather the same day, it went down. I woke up early, had breakfast with Cousin Arsen and Lesa that included more than a little vodka. I took it easy, as I knew it was going to be a very long day. Cousin Arsen went to play at a short thing at the bride's house in Verkhivtsi. He was back in just over an hour and we headed over to Ivas' house in neighboring Karashintsi.

You know, the whole family is made up of very jolly, good-natured people, but as I've noticed, when the wedding day comes around, everybody looks like they're being led to the gallows. I've decided that this is just their way. Anyhow, everything was in place and this is what went down:

The band got themselves organized. That's Cousin Arsen on the sax (that I gave him 8 years ago), Andri is on the drums (he morphs into a keyboard player later on) and I forgot the accordionist's name. That's also Cousin Arsen's son Volodya hanging out. OK, they say a few ceremonial things, then Ivas' Roman-in-law (his sister Marika's husband) pour champagne for everybody:

Then Ivas dances with his ma:

Afterwards, mom and dad (my Cousin Ivan) sprinkle Ivas with water and salt. They also get candy tossed at them:

They smash the plates with the water, salt and candy against the house (sorry, no action shots), then the bridesmaids line up on either side and they march after the cake, hefted by Roman-in-law:

This is what it says:

That's "to many years" in our lingo - not "too many years." And then the march begins with the band leading the way:

Here was the problem: Oksana lives way the hell over in Verkhivtsi, so it was impractical to march over there. So we just marched a little ways and then the cars came up behind us. Cousin Arsen and I rode with Cousin Andri in his Classic Orange Zhiguli (which is actually the same as a Lada, but the Soviets had two brands just to give the illusion that people had a choice) and off we went to Verkhivtsi.

When we arrived, the mock sale of the bride took place at the gate:

Ivas haggles over her price with various proxies. He keeps bringing out bottles of vodka from somebody's trunk, but it's not enough. He's got to put down some cash, too, which he does. They argue more. Further bottles of vodka are produced:

The negotiations become so heated that at one point I turn to my Cousin Vasily and say, "Uh oh, there's not gonna be a wedding. And I came all this way." That got a laugh from the crowd. Shortly after that, they concluded their business. Oksana was "sold" for 20 bottles of vodka and $120. They let us in and we all waited by the door for her to appear. And there she ıs! Those two are NOT bridesmaids; they're attendants. The real bridesmaids are with the groom.

They go out and kiss everybody and then as many people as possible pile into the house where they have a sort of farewell ceremony. There are songs and everything. The bride says goodbye to her father, friends and old life (kind of ironic because this is where the two of them are living, so she's not saying goodbye to anything). I gotta tell you, everybody was crying: men, women and children. I have no pıctures. I couldn't get a straight shot into the room, so I just listened to what was going on while people all around me were bawling their Slavic heads off.

Once that business was through, they lined up again with a second cake:

They get doused with water, salt and candy again, this time by dad and both grannies, plates get smashed (once again no action shots) and we're off. Incidentally, the second cake reads like so:

It says "to happiness, to the future." So with the band in the lead, we trudge through the mud towards the church. This is a Ukrainian village. The roads are dirt. When it rains, you get mud.

One of the things I failed to capture along what Cousin Arsen calls "the death march" is that when the couple encounters anyone along the way, they have to stop, bow and throw them candy. This happened at least three dozen times, yet I failed get a shot. Oh well!

Meanwhile, the geese were indifferent to the festivities:

The ducks were, too:

Ducks and geese being ındifferent. There you have it. Anyhow, Ivas and Oksana stopped at a chapel along the way. That's another rule: you have to stop at all chapels along the way.

From there, it was a quick scramble up the hill to the church:

No, not this church. It's not finished yet. It was at this tiny one off to the side:

The paint is peeling and it's about the size of a tool shed, but it's pretty bling inside. They had these grape-shaped lights that responded to sound. There was something very casino-like about it. I kept expecting a sign to flash on that read: THE LOOSEST SLOTS IN TOWN!! Anyhow, the priest and choir greet the couple at the door. The service is almost completely sung. It's quite beautiful when everybody's on pitch - you hear me, tenors? So it also lasted quite a while. There was a lot of crossing and bowing. OK, everybody refers to themselves as Greek Catholic (also known as Uniate), but except for some details, you'd swear it was Russian Orthodox. I know there are a few major differences, but it's not even close to the Catholic rite. And that's just fine. Another similarity to the Orthodox ceremony - wedding crowns:

This is a bad photo, bad they're there. Sorry for the night-scope shot. I didn't want to blind the priest. By the way, he had a very nice voice. Here's a shot of them with both of her grannies. Nobody looks happy!

And now, it's official!

Still, nobody looks happy.

Anyhow, so they file out of the miniscule church and we head off to the reception in Hrimailiv. They brought in a bus for that, because even though very few people were at the houses and the ceremony, lots and lots want to go to the reception. In fact, our "bus" was just an oversized minivan, which managed to squeeze in something like 40 people.

So that was the wedding. Next up: the reception.