On Time Arrival – a No-No in Kazakhstan

Showing up on time for wedding receptions in Kazakhstan is a very big mistake. One that you will pay for in frayed nerves, utter exhaustion and expectations dashed to dust, all while wearing your best dress, stiletto heels and the nicest lipsticked smile.

Have you ever gone into a situation with a huge expectation, walked into a room expecting to make difference, feeling the possibility for meaningful moments only to have it dashed by prosaic disappointment – the kind of sweaty-skin, flat-hair, waiting-too-long-outside-on-a-hot-summer’s-eve deflation?

If any of that rings true for you, then you can relate. You may not have been on the other side of the world when it happened, but let’s be honest, wherever you’ve been, we’ve all learned a thing or two about how to go forward in life while facing our turned-to-dust expectations.

So, now let’s get back to that nicest, lipsticked smile, outside where eagerly sitting at café tables and chairs, and two small children running around (dressed in their best as well), waiting. You wait and wait. Then you call a friend and wait some more. Nearly two hours later, glazed in a thin layer of sweat and a not-so-shiny-lipstick smile, you watch the bride and groom arrive in all their happy delight and immaculate gorgeousness.

As your rumpled family shuffles into the reception hall, jostled and pushed by happy relatives and friends, you wonder what the two-hour delayed start means for the event. Will they cut some things out of the program because of the bride and groom’s late arrival? Taking your seats at the food-laden table, you pick up the vibe that no one here is interested in moving things along any faster. You look around at the nearly 200 guests who are finding their places at tables, children running in between, and music playing so loud you need to shout to the person next to you in order to be heard.

One of the girls sitting at your table, a new friend and friend of the bride, speaks some English and you start up a conversation. You ask what you can expect for how the evening’s event will unfold. You express concern about the late start and how late the party will go, glancing at the children and assessing the approach to meltdown.

You are shocked by her answer. The girl reveals two very important things you didn’t know before but will never forget after this night; in fact, understanding this shapes your expectation into a more realistic perspective and at the same time teaches you a thing or two about humility.

First, you learn that you never, ever show up on time for weddings. The girl says this with a hearty laugh and shrug of her shoulders like everyone should know this, why on earth not? Then she proceeds to describe the toasting tradition – every guest must stand up and give a toast to the wedding couple (a tradition your husband not only came prepared to participate in but also came with an expertly crafted toast written out in Russian on a piece of paper tucked into his pocket, ready to impress). You breathe a sigh of relief far too quickly.

The second part of her answer is even a bit more distressing than the first. She explains how the MC invites guests to the front to give toasts in order of how they are related to or know the wedding couple. Those closest to the couple will give their toasts early in the evening – broken up by lots of dancing and entertainment – and those least close to the couple give their toasts toward the end.

With a sense of dread, you ask her how late these wedding receptions typically go. She giggles and laughs, informing you that they normally go late into the night, 1:00 or 2:00 am. You cringe. At this point it is only 9:30pm and both children are melting down, your feet are screaming in your stilettos and your lipstick has long ago crumbled off completely. A serious sense of panic takes over your cringe.

Humbled, you begin to realize the inflated sense of yourself you brought to this party, and with faltering optimism you cheerfully offer your children some juice to drink and borsuk (a traditional, deep-fried bread) to munch on. A little stunned, amid the happy laughter and chatter and super-loud music all around you, you look at your husband and wonder, now what?

Putting your heads together there at the table, you lay out options now that you better understand the playing field. Bottomline: you are embarrassed to admit that your dilapidated family cannot fulfill the wedding guest requirements at this time. With your lesson learned, you fully expect to attend future wedding receptions better prepared.

For now, you revise your expectation from staying to deliver an impressive and moving toast to staying just long enough to honor the newly married couple and leave before your family implodes.

You turn back toward the girl to let her know: your family will discreetly leave before the party is over. The girl’s giggling suddenly stops. She tells you, in no uncertain terms, that you cannot do this – to do this would be really offensive. What? To offend a brand-new friend in such a way so early on?!

You and your husband huddle again. Noticing your furrowed brows and anxious whispering, the girl offers to help, and the three of you devise a compromise: your husband will take the children home, and you will stay to the end to give the toast. You take the now crumpled and dampened paper, on which your husband’s expertly crafted toast is written in Russian and plan to deliver it, with humbled expectations, to the couple with whom you hope to build a lasting friendship.

Waving goodbye to your husband and children, they pile in a taxi and drive away. And then turning on your tired, stilhetto-clad feet, you head to the bathroom to freshen up and re-calibrate your spirit, as well as reapply and refresh that lipstick smile.

In due time, after hours of eating and dancing, you eventually deliver your well-intended toast to a tired and dwindling audience. The bride beaming with pride throws her arms around you and squeezes you tight. Although not in the way you imagined, the evening turned out fine and the investment made in friendship is all that mattered.

Laying your tired body down in bed that night, you are thankful that lessons learned through dashed expectations are never wasted – establishing a refined humility and understanding. When entering new situations, it’s important to leave behind pumped-up expectations and bring a hopeful openness and purpose instead.

*As true to life a story as memory can serve.