In class we’re going to get married, Syrian-style! Syrian weddings are exuberant affairs full of dance, song, dance, fantastic food…and did we we mention dance…? As we learned above there are many cultures in Syria, each with its own extensive traditions

If you’re Muslim in Syria your wedding ceremony will begin with an engagement/ring ceremony called khetbeth during which you and your soon-to-be-spouse sign a ktab, a legal contract that is a promise to get married. The ktab mentions the maher, or “bride price,” which the groom pays. (Often that’s symbolic, though sometimes actual money changes hands.)

On the wedding day itself there are many festivities before the actual ceremony. The groom and bride separate, each going with their friends. While the groom’s friends are helping him get prepared they try to prick him with a pin on the knee, with the belief that if they do they’ll get married soon. Similarly, the bride’s friends pinch her or tread on her toes. When the groom is nearly ready for the ceremony his friends sing songs called “arada,” during which they lift him up on their shoulders and parade him around the room. See an example of a fun arada. And another….
Sometimes the groom, his friends or family set up a mock fight with swords and shields, usually hiring professionals who come wearing traditional breeches and Syrian headgear. When the bride and groom do come together they walk as a couple beneath two rows of men holding crossed swords, an ancient tradition meant to demonstrate the groom’s bravery in protecting his bride-to-be. Even after the ceremony wedding customs abound. For example, when the bride enters her new home she takes a handful of wheat dough and sticks it on the door before entering. If it sticks, the couple will have a long and happy life together.

Read about Syrian Muslim weddings on Freemarriage.com’s Syrian wedding page.

There are different traditions at Syrian Christian weddings. In most cases, partying begins the night before the wedding at a small “khyapta d khitna,” or “shower party for the groom,” to which the groom invites his closest relatives (and not the bride). After listening to some Assyrian Chaldean music the best man leads the groom to the bathroom where he takes his last shower before the wedding, after which everyone dances, drinks and eats
until the wee hours of morning.

On the wedding day the groom’s family goes to the bride’s house to accompany her to the church. When the time comes to leave for the church the groom’s family starts to sing.
A member of the family stands at the doorway and won’t let the bride leave until someone from the groom’s family pays the amount of money she’s asking (today, usually a symbolic amount).

After the ceremony at the church, the guests arrive at the banquet hall and wait for the bride and groom, each holding a “yalekhta,” a thin piece of see-through fabric decorated with fancy beads. Assyrian Christian/Chaldean weddings are massive events–inviting four hundred guests is not uncommon–and the sight of so many guests with yalekthas can be striking. In the room there is also a cane covered in white fabric and white pearls, used by
leader of the Assyrian Chaldean dance. Everyone cheers as the maid of honor, other friends and family members and finally the bride and groom enter. The cheering gets
louder and louder and everyone dances until the bride and groom reach their table.

Then, as one can imagine, everyone dances! And dances, and dances.

Read about Syrian Assyrian/Chaledean weddings here.

In class we’ll enjoy some of these Syrian Muslim and Christian wedding traditions, and then we’ll engage in one of the most important of all: we’ll dance!

In Syria, music plays an essential role in daily life–marking religious occasions, providing a soundtrack for family events, always present as Syrians make their way through the world. Syria’s most popular singers customarily draw on both traditional music and rural themes. For example, iconic Syrian vocalist Sabah Fakhri has recorded hundreds of Syrian songs that blend classical Arabic arrangements with accessible Syrian folk. (Watch Sabah Fakhri and his full ensemble perform in Las Vegas.) Some of the country’s Christian music, like its Syrian chants, has its roots in Orthodox religious observances that are over a thousand years old, though musicians like pianist Malek Jandali, who anchors many of his compositions in ancient Syrian music, readily give them a modern twist. In the same vein, while performers like the Al-Kindi Ensemble are masters of classical call and response “muwashahat” that have played a central role in the “zikr” (Sufi rituals) for centuries, Syrians value them as contemporary performers. (See Sabri Mudallal and some amazing whirling dervishes perform a muwashsha.) Even Syrian Jewish “pizmonim” are considered worthy of a modern revival, though the Syrian Jewish community is well past its prime.

In class we’re going to listen to:

— Kulna Sawa: “Emaar Ya Sha’m”
Modern Syrian folk outfits like Kulna Sawa proudly root their music in traditional forms. For example, “Emaar Ya Sha’m,” is a lavishly patriotic song that maintains a traditional Syrian musical sensibility while also fully embracing the lusciousness of global power pop.

More information:
Wikipedia on Kulna Sawa | Kulna Sawa’s official website

— Farid al-Atrash: “Wayak Wayak”:

Farid al Atrash was born in 1917 in a Syrian border town south of Damascus to Princess Alia and Prince Fahd al-Atrash, the leading family in the Syrian-Druze resistance against the French. Fearing for his family’s safety, Fahd send Princess Alia, Farid and his sister Amal to Cairo where went into hiding, lived under an assumed name (“Kusa,” Arabic for zucchini) and fell into poverty. Princess Alia supported her family by performing the oud
in clubs; her children followed her into the new family business. Farid, an extraordinary oud player, and Amal a mesmerizing vocalist, rose quickly on the Egyptian music scene, and when they began to act in movies they became stars. Amal adopted the artistic stage name “Asmahan” and Farid developed a persona as “the sad singer.”

Asmahan died in 1944 when her car drove off the road and landed in a water-filled ditch. The Arab press speculated wildly about the real cause of the “accident.” Asmahan had many enemies among the Egyptian musical elite, not the least of whom was beloved Egyptian vocalist Umm Kulthum, who was rumored to have seen Asmahan as a threat. Could Kulthum or one of her supporters have done Asmahan in? Or could her alleged work for British Intelligence during World War II to facilitate the Allies entry into Syria have come back to haunt her?

Farid continued acting in Egyptian films, composing, playing oud and attracting tabloid attention with his many high-profile romances until his death in 1974.

More information:
The life and times of Farid al-Atrash: “A Contender in the Age of Giants” | Asmahan’s vibrant life and mysterious death | Farid al Atrash sings “Wayak Wayak” | Watch a captivating Asmahan perform “Ayoha Na’emo”

About 90% of Syrians are Arabs and speak a modern colloquial Arabic that’s very similar to the Arabic also spoken in Lebanon and Jordan. The remaining minorities of Syrian Kurds also speak Kurdish (Kurmanji), Syrian Armenians speak Armenian and Syrian Turks also speak Turkish (the South Azeri dialect). Many educated Syrians of all ethnic groups speak French, and some speak English. For centuries before Arabic became the main language of Syria, some time around when the Umayyad’s took over in the 7th century, most people in the region spoke Aramaic. In today’s Syria villagers of Ma’loula and two nearby towns only 35 miles from Damascus still speak Aramaic–technically, Western Neo-Aramaic. (Linguists are intrigued that the Western Neo-Aramaic speakers are Muslim, even in a completely Arabized region, rather than being Christian like most Eastern Neo-Aramaic-speakers.)

(Was the world’s first alphabet written on a clay tablet in the Ugarit language on the Syrian coast in the 14th century B.C.? The next time you’re in Damascus you can visit the tablet at a museum and see for yourself.)

In class, for kicks, we’re going to say hello and goodbye in old-time Aramaic:

Hello in Aramaic: Shlomoa
Goodbye in Aramaic: Foosh beshlomo