Weddding Crashers, Yeshiva Style

Invitations in Israel mean something different than in America. In America, when you say, “Hey close friend with whom I enjoy hypothesizing on unrealistic activities, care to go to a wedding we heard about from a man we met ten minutes ago?” presumably the question is met with a chuckle. But in Israel, such a suggestion quickly becomes a reality.

Lo and behold, on our third day of existence here in the Holy Land, after a brief first class with our Kabbalah teacher, we were informed that he was attending a wedding of a Yeshiva Bachur, and that if we were interested, we could show up for the wedding just outside the Old City later that evening. Some in the class did as Americans too frequently do, laughing off the suggestion as they planned another night of drunken jubilation on Ben Yehudah. However, several friends and myself opted for an “Inebriation Celebration,” as Sam coined the evening. Indeed, with our open minds and the wedding’s open bar, we were in for a wild night.

We got to the wedding in the middle of the Sheva Brachos, as a sea of black hats surrounded the bride and groom. After a few minutes, the couple-to-be spent some time in Yichud, which enabled the bevy of Yeshiva bros to daven Maariv. As we waited for the couple to return and the party to begin, the band began to pump the crowd up, pumping out a few nifty tunes. The numerous sodas and other excitable beverages were consumed faster and faster, and then finally, with everyone itching to let their boogy loose, the groom returned, and a banging party ensued. I, along with three other Year Course males, quickly were pulled into the thick of the dancing, where we screamed and sang and sweated along with a hundred other Jewish men of varying ages and dancing abilities. Things got even wilder still, as someone whipped out a yellow sheet. Befuddled, I took a step back before I realized what the sheet was for. A bunch of men grabbed the edges as the groom was thrown onto the middle of the sheet. I had seen my fair share of chair lifts at Bar-Mitzvahs, but these Yeshiva types know how to party. They threw the groom up as his face lit up with joy. I gasped as he came down safely onto the sheet, but then whoosh! Back up he went.

Suddenly, it was time for line dancing, and as the Year Coursers formed a line in what would soon turn into a type of dance-off, we realized we would be taking on the groom and his most beloved friends and family. We began to dance and I chest bumped the groom before receding to my intial location. But then we did it again and again, until I was running full speed into the man whose name I still not know but whose wedding I will remember forever.

I had thought the chest bump was pretty cool, like something straight out of Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn’s classic flick, Wedding Crashers. But when we met up with the Year Course girls who came, we found out the dancing on the girls side yielder even more dramatic, perhaps hilarious results. One of our friends had been summoned to perform in some type of ceremony to enteratin the bride, and in doing so was quickly added to the ranks of closest friend to the bride. Our friend from Year Course has gone down in the annals of that family’s history, as she posed in pictures with the bride’s maids and even got a few right next to the newly married woman.

A wild, wonderful, wondrous night, that we hope will be the first of many.