When young people looked at the bride and groom, sitting under a stretched full-length carpet decorated with homemade letters spelling out a passage of Scripture or a wish like “May God bless them with happiness”, many of them couldn’t help picturing themselves in the newlyweds’ place.
Christian weddings of our generation were always fun. For the church it was a real holiday everybody looked forward to: both children and adults, but most of all young people. In the seventies, conflicts with authorities would still happen during church holidays, especially in unregistered communities, but weddings were broken up more seldom than other church events. That’s why any wedding at that time was a special opportunity for good Christian communication with minimal risk of the police coming right in the middle of it all and dispersing people.
Long rows of panel tables were put in the yard, at each side of the table they placed homemade benches, made of two simple stands and a board covered with a homemade rug or just paper. The wedding table was situated on a wooden platform in a visible location.
The older generation had a wonderful time sitting next to their peers, talking about different things over a cup of tea, listening to singing, poems and recitations. They could wish something for the newlyweds and, looking at them, reminisce about their own youths, remember good old, but difficult times, when for their own wedding they had to borrow pants from a neighbor and make the bride’s veil from tulle curtains.
For children, a wedding was heaven on earth. They could eat plenty of candy, pastries, fruit, all kinds of sweets, hang around the tables in the kitchen, run around the yard and look at what young people were doing. Kids who were a little older were trusted with serving tea to guests. It was perceived as a great honor.
But it was young people that felt most delighted about weddings. Their heart missed a beat with excitement when a wedding cortege, decorated with ribbons and flowers and surrounded by motorcyclists, stopped at the gate. The street immediately became very noisy. Groomsmen, relatives, friends and parents got out of the car; photographers bustled around the crowded guests (video filming hadn’t arrived yet). A little further away stood flocks of neighbors; children got in everybody’s way, trying to get in the first row to see what was happening. The bride and groom were the last to get out of the car. Unaccustomed to so much attention, happy and blushing at the same time, they were surprised that their humble selves suddenly became the center of attention and the reason for such a big gathering.
Bridesmaids carefully straightened the bride’s dress and veil, photographers took a couple more shots and accompanied by groomsmen, the couple of the hour slowly proceeded through the “live corridor” to the place of the feast. A parental prayer was said at the gate, after which the newlyweds were seated at the wedding table.
It was the best time for young people to show their talents and abilities. All kinds of music could be heard at weddings: guitars, drums, accordions, electric organs, solos, duets, bands…
The whole main choir as well as the youth choir was always invited to weddings. They put on their best clothes and sang choral hymns and congregational singing. This relaxed atmosphere provided a wonderful opportunity to communicate with young people from neighboring communities. Quite often weddings were attended by guests from other cities.
When young people looked at the bride and groom, sitting under a stretched full-length carpet decorated with homemade letters spelling out a passage of Scripture or a wish like “May God bless them with happiness”, many of them couldn’t help picturing themselves in the newlyweds’ place.
The most interesting part began in the evening. In the yard they turned on simple homemade lamps, made of wires suspended from trees, grape vines or wooden poles, and sockets with light bulbs, connected to the wires. This is how the wedding venue was lit at night. The elderly guests, tired after the active day, went home and the initiative was completely handed to the young people. They started playing fun and noisy games like “trickle” (similar to London Bridge), “third wheel”, etc.
The story I want to tell you took place at one such wedding in the late seventies. It happened in Dushanbe. There was the usual wedding fuss: music, poems, recitations, wishes and congratulations. Telegrams were read out loud, presents were given, the toast master (the coordinator at the wedding) announced performers, introduced the guests, made jokes, so everything went as planned.
As usual, the main theme of many performances was love. And someone started to question the groom with exceptional passion if his love for the bride was strong enough. How does he know it? How long have they been together? Do they know each other well? What advice did their mothers and fathers give them?.. The toast master picked up this topic and began to philosophize, recall true stories and sayings of wise men. Other guests started helping him and thus, a lively discussion ensued on how long people should date before getting married and if love at first sight exists.
One brother and his wife from Kurgan-Tyube were invited to this wedding. It’s a fairly big city located south of Dushanbe towards the Afghan border that had a close-knit community of Evangelical Christian Baptists, at that time consisting of more than 100 members, mostly of German origin. The man was of quite an advanced age with an outstandingly large and luxurious white beard. Many people didn’t even remember his name and called him among themselves “White Beard”. Being tall and surprisingly fresh-faced like a wholesome young man, he reminded of Santa Clause from a Christmas card.
While other guests were making speeches, he asked for the floor as well, and soon the toastmaster called him to the microphone. Brother “White Beard” walked past long tables, stood next to the wedding platform, leisurely adjusted his fluffy beard and started telling his amazing story.
“So you are arguing here how one should love, how to choose the right girl without missing the mark, and for the love to be strong and life-long. You’re giving all sorts of recipes and things like that. But I listened to you and thought: why not tell you how it was with me.”
“I was born and raised in the Urals, in a small village north of Yekaterinburg, before the revolution. We had beautiful scenery there, wherever you looked you could see the woods, there were so many fish in the river, that at shallow places you could catch them with your bare hands, we had enough bread for everyone and the cattle were plentiful, in short, life without worries.”
“There was just one problem. I don’t know why, but very few girls were born in our area. There were no brides in our village, or the surrounding villages for more than 100 miles. In 50 households we had 30 guys and 4 girls of marriageable age. The situation in other villages was the same. So how would you divide them? Our guys tried to search the neighboring villages, but slim chance, they narrowly escaped and made it back. There were just a couple of girls for three dozen guys as well. We would fight so much that you wouldn’t believe.”
Once a businessman from Siberia found out about our misfortune. His name was Vasily Shubin. At that time people were already starting to work in artels, in the mines, organized teams to do construction work and logging. So, one day at the end of summer, he came to our village, gathered us bachelors and said: “Listen guys, I have a good agreement with a sawmill in Yekaterinburg. They ordered a large shipment of timber to be delivered to them next year. It should be cut all through the winter and in the spring, when the ice melts, shipped down the river. If you are up for it, in a week we’ll take a steamer to the upper reaches, where you’ll spend the whole winter and come back to your village by the next summer. You know how to do the work, and all the tools will be taken care of. I have axes, saws, ropes, and everything you need. You’ll stay in barracks and eat at my expense. I’ll store bread and vegetables for you, while fish and game are more than enough there. I won’t pay you any money, but if by next spring you cut down as much wood as we will agree upon, I’ll bring each of you a bride. Deal?” For a minute everyone was dumbfounded, and then blurted out all together: “Deal!” We signed the papers, decided where we would meet and he left.
A week later we went to the city. Seventy or more bachelors came from different villages. I was twenty five back then, there were older guys as well, all of us longed to finally get married. Vasily met us at the pier, we got on the ship and set off the next day.
Seven or eight days later we arrived at the place. Vasily looked around, showed us which forest to cut. And as soon as the ice would melt he was supposed to come back and, if everything was as agreed, pay us.
The next day the steamer left. We rolled up our sleeves, cleared the plots, built barracks, organized storerooms, and got down to work. I’m telling you, nobody needed pushing; everybody did work properly to fulfill the agreed quota.
We were used to this work, there was a plenty of wood around, so by the end of March we cut down enough wood to fulfill two quotas. We filled the entire coast with wood up and down the river and already didn’t know what to do with ourselves. We went hunting, fishing and waited for the ice drift that was supposed to start at the end of April. Thus, our benefactor and the promised goods should arrive by the beginning of May.
At last, in mid-May, the whistle blew and a few barges and the steamer, that had taken us there, entered the river bend. There was no pier, so they anchored a little further from the coast, while we crowded near the water in anticipation. We saw how Vasily and sailors put the boat on water and came towards us.
-Well, welcome the guest! – he greeted us. “How did you spend the winter? How was work? Have you fulfilled your quota?
-Oh yes, we have, absolutely. Accept the goods. How about our agreement? Do you have enough brides for everyone?
– Don’t worry about that, everything will be just fine. So, show me what you have.”
He examined the piles on the shore, nodded his head and said: “Well, well, you kept your word, I don’t have any complaints. The job is done and now it’s my turn to thank you, as I promised. It’s getting late; let’s go to bed now, and tomorrow I’ll pay you.”
Nobody could sleep that night. The barracks hummed like bee hives. How will it be? How will he divide them? With a lot, or by height, or some other way? And who will get which? Who will be the first and the last to choose? What if the last one doesn’t get any? So we talked about the following day till dawn…
In the morning we see: the deck of the steamer is filled with girls. Vasily and sailors got on a boat, came to us and said:
– All right, now everyone needs to move further away from the river.
We went to the edge of the field 700-900 feet away.
– And now stand in one line, turn away from the river and wait for my command.
So Vasily lined us up along the edge of the forest with our backs to the shore, we stood and waited.
Meanwhile, sailors brought the girls to the shore, lined them up across from us along the coast, but facing the river. When everything was ready Vasily pulled a revolver out of his pocket and said:
-As soon as you hear a gunshot, run to the girls. The girl you will catch will be yours.
He walked a little to the side, raised the revolver and fired it. We turned around and ran. I never ran so fast in my life. We must have broken all athletic records back then. Nobody lagged behind. And everybody kept their eyes on the girls. Now what? Which to choose? All we could see was their backs and on the run we couldn’t tell which was which. However, I saw a curly-haired girl to the right from me. I thought I needed to push a little harder and started moving in her direction. And the sailors shouted to us:
– Faster, faster, or you won’t get any!
Faster, ha? We already flew across this field like hounds. I ran up to the curly haired girl ahead of everyone, turned her around and saw she was pockmarked from smallpox. I tried to reach for another one, but it was a long shot. It looked like there was a whirlwind swirling around the girls, everything got mixed up. Then I grabbed the curly haired girl tighter and kept holding. “Better this one, than nothing at all.” – I thought.
That’s how in one minute Vasily divided the girls between us, without much fuss or offence. He also brought a priest with him. Father married us all and wrote it down in the church book. We had a party in the evening, spent another week there, loaded the timber into barges and went home.
Since then my sweet curly haired Katherine and I have lived together for nearly 50 years in perfect harmony and never argued. To this day we sit next to the samovar and drink tea together, drink tea and kiss, drink tea and kiss…
You keep talking about love and that it’s a complicated science; how you should, for a year, look at her from one side and then for a year from the other side… While the most important thing is to be matched by God, only then you’ll get along well.”
Sitting among the guests, Katherine looked at him and smiled tenderly.
