After many years of dating, Soenke’s younger brother Ole (pronounced OH-luh) finally wedded his high-school sweetheart Lena. In addition to being a fabulous family affair, here was yet another opportunity for me to experience some German traditions.

Before I continue, may I observe that there are no wedding showers in Germany. There are, however, Bachelor/Bachelorette parties (celebrated with MUCH gusto). Soenke organized his brother’s party, which involved a bunch of Ole’s rowdy soccer buddies and a trip via train to the Beck’s Brewery over in Bremen. Imagine Ole in a blonde Marilyn Monroe wig and an apron squee-gee’ing the window of a police van (no joke, the policeman even paid him a euro to do it). Later, imagine a large group of very rowdy beered-up German guys with a Beck’s inflatable guitar on the train back, singing at the top of their lungs for all the other passengers. (Yes, there’s a video documenting all this for posterity, although I don’t have it yet…).

So back to the wedding. The church was one of those absolutely gorgeous old European churches full of beautiful Louvre-quality paintings and an amazing pipe organ (think: Princess Di and Prince Charles’ wedding on a much smaller scale). Ok, so it rained, but a wedding in Hamburg wouldn’t be a wedding without precipitation. The old-fashioned mass service was spiced up by snappy a capella music, courtesy of a somwhat incongruous all-black, all-male trio. Sophie enjoyed the music and the ceremony so much that she copiously spit up all over her darling ensemble and all the way down Mommy’s bare arms. Thankfully she was the one quiet baby in the church, so she could spit up all she wanted as far as I was concerned.

The reception was near the Elbe River and was 100% exuberant. The normally very-reserved Northern Germans are a lot more fun after you pour a couple of drinks in them. I spent most of the reception on baby-duty in a side room, since Sophie was totally overwhelmed by the density and volume (and steadfastly refused any other loving arms). I was happily joined by another couple with a son about Sophie’s age, and we took turns watching the little nuggets sleep and one-upping each other with sleep-deprivation stories.

This wedding marked a turning point for me in my journey towards speaking the German language: people did not automatically switch to English when I spoke German. This somewhat shocked me, and on occasion I said “don’t you want to speak English?” The answer was invariably “Why? Your German is fine”, at which point my eyes would widen and I wondered how much Soenke paid them to say that. Because, if there is one thing I know in life, my German is decidedly NOT fine. My vocab is painfully limited. My words are COMPLETELY out of order. My conjugations are so bad, they hardly qualify as conjugable. But I somehow manage to communicate, and people aren’t laughing at me, so it appears things are progressing and I may not get kicked out of the country yet.

In the meantime, for the record I would like to comment that nursing in a strapless ballroom gown is not as easy as it appears.

Photos, photos:
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The bride and groom are admonished by the pastor:

The radiant bride:

Our happy little family!

The couple’s getaway car:

Enjoying their first dance:

Sophie allowed only one person other than her parents to hold her that night, and that was Ole’s buddy Raphael (although here she was protesting a bit…). We don’t know his secret, but he loved being the Chosen One:

Please admire the baby dress of the century: