“My biggest fear was that we would book a restaurant and no one would show up,” says Sarah, a newlywed.
Sarah, from Hama, had planned on getting married at the end of the summer. But plans are hard to make these days; anything could come up at the last minute and ruin a special day. Roads are so dangerous that chances are low a printed and posted invitation will arrive at its destination.
“I was really scared that something might happen and we would have to cancel the wedding. I kept praying that my wedding day wouldn’t turn out to be a jinx or become a bad memory,” she says.
Sarah’s sister was married three years ago, before the crisis broke out.
“My sister’s wedding was a magical night celebration. All my relatives from different cities traveled to Hama to attend. But for my wedding, none of the relatives outside Hama could make the dangerous and time-consuming journey,” Sarah says.
For her own ceremony, she and her fiancé chose a small restaurant in Hama, close to both her home and those of most of her relatives. It would take place in the early afternoon. Sarah and her groom didn’t want anyone to cancel “because of the distance or lateness.”
The young couple was also obliged to lower their expectations for entertainment – there is no money for extravagance, given the country’s stalled economy.
“Since the war began, the prices of everything increased – from booking a restaurant to hiring a band and anything between—so my options became limited,” she says.
“We wanted a five-tiered cake but settled on a two-leveled one, a band was scrapped for a mix CD, and a big fancy restaurant become a small one. It was a summer wedding and the weather was hot, but thank God there was electricity at first and I was able to have my first dance. I was so happy about that. It felt like God had answered my prayers, and I was able to get more than what I imagined. The heat didn’t stop anyone from dancing.
“Of course it was not the magical night I dreamt of when I was a little girl, or like any other wedding I went to before. Later, there were electricity cuts and the generator couldn’t handle the air conditioning so I was sweaty, but that never made me stop smiling. I consider myself a lucky girl to be able to have a wedding party while others marry in silence or just sign papers without any kind of celebration.”
After Sarah and her new husband cut the cake, she says she felt relief that nothing had gone wrong.
But she was also aware of what waited for her after the party was over. “I couldn’t ignore the fact that outside this door was the start of my new life … as well as a war that doesn’t look like it will end,” she says.
“I am happy and grateful that I am going to start my own family, but I am also scared that I don’t know what the future will hold for us, and how to start a family in war time. The idea of raising my children in this brutal war and environment of hate kills me, but Syria is my home, the place where I grew up, and where my parents live.
“I really hope I get the chance to relive the Syria I knew before the war, or even a better Syria.”
Adam is the pseudonym for a Hama-based Syrian contributor.