“I am married!!!” I cheered. The response was applause from the people around me. All the work of the past few days and the far too short night, but above all the strength of so many, many good wishes, led to this emotional outburst.
Getting married in Thailand is a hotly debated topic. I never, ever, ever thought that I would one day marry a Thai woman. Yet that’s how it turned out. Here are a few episodes related to my wedding.
We had imagined it would be so simple. A ceremony with the village elders and a few friends. Delicious Akha food served on banana leaves and German cake with Thai coffee. But things turned out differently.
It started with the idea in the shower. Wearing only a towel, I asked my future wife if she would marry me. Romantic is another story. Her response was correspondingly hesitant. She would have to think about it. No, that wasn’t how I had imagined it. Actually, I hadn’t imagined anything at all except an enthusiastic YES.
What happened after that falls into the category of “Life Adventure” for me.
I had no idea how an Akha wedding would take place. So I first asked my beloved. “No idea,” was her answer. So we had to find other sources. In her mother’s village, the ceremony was explained to us. A lot of it revolved around food. Of course, we’re in Thailand. An essential part was slaughtering a pig and predicting our future from its liver.
The poor pig…
…wasn’t actually so badly off, I think. The Muu Dam, the black domestic pig, fulfilled its purpose in life at our wedding. That’s what it was born for: to taste delicious and feed our guests. Not the worst “purpose of life.” So I thanked the animal and calmed it by scratching behind its ears and speaking softly to it. My future wife at the time caught the word “delicious” and translated it. Everyone laughed. The pig lay down and enjoyed the attention.
Unfortunately, its final minutes were not quite as pleasant. I would have wished it a gentler death. Something more like in the film Emma’s Bliss. But the Akha people are tough. Life in the mountains is hard. There is no room for sentimentality.
The Future Lies in the Liver
So there it was, our future as a couple. In the form of a pig’s liver spread out in front of us.
“If you have a child, it will be a boy,” he said, pointing to an elongated bladder. The “if” was important and added considerably to his credibility. If he had predicted a specific number of children, I would have laughed at him.
“You will do well as a couple,” he said, pointing to the lower right.
“On the left side, that represents the map of the world. It looks good. You will surely travel and go your own way.”
And finally, pointing to a round bump on the upper right: “Your wallet will always be well filled.”
That was exactly what I wanted to hear.
The men who slaughtered the pig said it had been too expensive. I am very grateful to our pig. It was absolutely worth the money.
Our Guests
My beloved’s mother and sister were sitting in front of us. Our jaws had just dropped. I felt like laughing, but the expressions on their faces didn’t allow it. Two to three hundred guests? They couldn’t be serious. But they were.
We had imagined around 10 guests. Just our closest friends who were there. As usual, the number quickly doubled, but it was still miles away from the number we had just heard. We asked who these people were supposed to be.
“My former coworkers, for example,” said her sister.
“My relatives and friends from the neighboring villages,” said her mother.
“Absolutely not,” said my future wife.
“Do you want an Akha wedding or not? Then you at least have to invite the whole village,” came the reply.
So, 150.
“100,” said my thrifty wife.
And she whispered to me, “No more than 80 will actually come.”
As if that was supposed to reassure me!
In the end, things turned out differently. After all, we are in Thailand. Three days before the wedding, we were asked if we could perhaps postpone it. There was going to be a funeral in the neighboring village on the same day, and everyone would have to attend.
“No,” we replied, unusually direct for Thai culture. “Absolutely not.”
So, “only” 65 guests came, but they gave us a wonderful day. Or did we give them one? Either way, it was great.
Plastic Free Wedding in the Land of a Thousand 7 Eleven Bags
My almost wife had an idea. “Great,” I said, not knowing what I was getting myself into. For days, we and others had to chop, saw, and sand. The result was impressive. Nam Prik, vegetables, fish, and soup served in bamboo bowls. Rice and larb on banana leaves. Cups with bamboo straws. Wow, we really made a statement. Even the villagers were impressed by how beautiful their traditional tableware could be.
In Love, Engaged, Married
In the end, it was a shortened version of what was originally a three day ceremony. The simplified version, so to speak, because no one in the village is allowed to perform the old version anymore. But that’s okay. Every ritual has its own power when it is performed sincerely and received consciously.
I felt this most intensely when our guests came, tied the traditional white strings around our wrists, and shared their good wishes with us. The wishes ranged from “have lots of children very soon” to deeply emotional moments.
Afterwards, I was truly “high.” That led to the emotional outburst described above.
Before anyone asks: No, this wedding has no legally binding effect. But that is unimportant to me. When a friend asked me why I wanted to get married, I answered from the heart: because I love her and want to spend the rest of my life with her. I have now made that commitment publicly, in front of witnesses, through a traditional ritual passed down through generations. It doesn’t get any better than that. I stand by it.
If, for whatever reason, I ever sign a piece of paper someday, it won’t change anything. The wedding described here was my wedding.
I dedicate this report to all my friends and family members who couldn’t or weren’t able to be there.
My heartfelt thanks go to the many people, friends and strangers alike, who contributed to this celebration:
To the village elders who conducted the ceremony. To the many helping hands from my wife’s family and village. To Kong, Kem, and Taew for the beautiful flower arrangement. To the cook for the delicious traditional food. To Corinna from Mountain Creek Vineyard and Andrea for the delicious cake. To Bee, Booz, and Namwan for the wonderful photos. To our friends who celebrated with us. For all the good wishes.
To my daughter, for simply coming to Thailand for the weekend.
But above all, I thank my mother and my daughter Anna, who always stand by me, no matter what adventure I embark on.
I am grateful to my wife for not starting any arguments with me during the preparations, even though she was really stressed. I love you.
The cover image shows the soap made by my wife, which we gave to our guests as a small thank you.
