Weddings: A Uniquely Israeli Problem

Most Jews assume that if they move to Israel they have increased the likelihood that their children will marry other Jews exponentially. That's true. And personally I think that is a good thing. But there's problem with Jewish Israeli weddings that Jews outside of Israel have never considered --probably because they are too busy worrying about keeping their children Jewish (or maybe they aren't worried enough but that will not move my story forward so forget it.).

The problem is geographical. Yes, you read that correctly. It's all about the location.

If you are a Jew living outside of Israel, this is not even on your worry radar. But after several years of multi-wedding weeks, it is on mine -- and I know I am not alone.

Here's the issue:

Since there are lots of Jews in Israel, we can let our marriage-age children wander hither and yon, never really worrying about the religion of the people with whom they come in contact. Chances are pretty damn good that any interesting/desirable person your child meets will also be a Jew. So far, so good.

But what happens when your child comes home with his or her potential mate and that person's family lives in The Golan, Metula, Jerusalem, Efrat or Beersheva -- and you live in the center of the country? They announce that they are going to get married and that is pretty much when the first white elephant enters the room; and it's name is Wedding Location.

Here are a few possible scenarios for what happens next. Keep in mind that everyone is trying to be on their best behaviour with the "new people":

1. The person from Central Israel caves like a deck of cards at the first mention of this issue and agrees to get married in some almost-God-forsaken corner of the country. (It can't be a totally God-forsaken place because this is Israel and there are no God-forsaken places.)
2. One or both of the parties are hell bent on getting married in the holiest city on Earth (hint: not Ra'anana)
3. One family has more effective negotiating skills, and it is never the family from Central Israel  -- those urbanites are way too soft to negotiate with the hearty types who live on the periphery, possibly with goats.
4. Everyone wants to make nice and be fair so the couple agree to get married half way between their parents' homes. Unfortunately one half of the couple is from Mitzpe Ramon.
5. Somebody plays the "my extended family of 5000 kibbutznicks won't come if it is in a big urban center" card. (Guilt is a very powerful Jewish tool.)
6. The couple want to get married in some place that no one they know has ever considered getting married, making it a very unique/hip venue that has not been selected for its proximity to central-Israel civilization or its sanity.

Next thing you  know, a location not-of-your-choosing has been selected and you have to send invitations to the peanut gallery of people who were previously your friends. They are only too happy to give you their input.

• "You want us to drive where? I have never even heard of that place."
• "Who the hell came up with THAT idea?"
• "Didn't you consider saying no to that brilliant plan?"
• "I really like you all but I am not driving two hours for your (son/daughter's) wedding."
• "Are you offering a hotel room with that invitation?"
• "If we have to drive two hours to get there, we are going to have to leave by 10 to get home."

In the end, almost everyone shows up and has a good time. There I said it -- but please note that that will not stop me from complaining for at least two weeks leading up to any such event. And because a greater power loves destroying any ridiculous plans I concoct, I am willing to bet that now that I have put this on electronic paper and told my children that they can only marry people who grew up within a 30 km radius of our house, they are all going to go out and do the exact opposite. 

In other words ... See you at my kids weddings in Beersheva?