FACES AND PLACES: My (and your) big, fat Greek wedding (10/06/02)

FACES AND PLACES

by Myron B. Kuropas

My (and your) big, fat Greek wedding

If you haven't seen "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" yet, you're missing the ethnic phenomenon of the year.

This film was not produced by Hollywood elite so it's OK to take the kids. No swearing, no nudity, no violence. It's a hit!

Most truly ethnic Americans will relate to this low-cost masterpiece of a love story. It involves a rather plain, no-so-young-anymore woman (Toula, portrayed by Nia Vadalos) from a totally Greek American family who is being courted by a handsome young man (Ian, played by John Corbett) who truly loves Toula and wants to marry her. Wed her, not bed her.

Big problem. Ian is not a Greek. He comes from a somewhat bland, sedate Anglo family that is overwhelmed by the wonderfully joyous, open, loud, food-focused, Ouzo-drinking Greek family.

Toula's father is shocked by her decision to date an Anglo. He tries mightily to dissuade her by inviting a farrago of single Greeks to dinner; each potential suitor is more dorky than the other. Dad's efforts fail. Toula eventually accepts Ian's proposal of marriage. Dad is devastated.

The father, by the way, is played by the same actor who played the Ukrainian father in that other great, but largely underrated ethnic film, "My Life" starring Michael Keaton and Nicole Kidman. Rent this one if you haven't seen it.

How "Greek" are some Ukrainian families? Very. Some more than others. Ukrainian parents may not be as overbearing as some Greek families, but in my generation, atleast, it was sort of understood that Ukrainians in America were supposed to marry Ukrainians.

I was not serious about marriage until I was in my late 20s. As the clock kept ticking, however, and as my parents, subtly and sometimes not so subtly, kept breathing down my neck, I became more and more concerned. Concerned, yes. Worried, no.

Part of the problem was my sainted grandmother who lived with us. I was her prince. As long as I lived at home I wanted for nothing. I had my own room. My laundry was done. The food was superb. And it was all free. Life was good.

Soyuzivka was a marvelous place to meet young, pretty Ukrainian girls and I met many of them. In the 1950s and early 1960s, Soyuzivka was loaded with them. Unfortunately, Soyuzivka was also loaded with many handsome young Ukrainian men seeking young Ukrainian girls. Everyone knew how to tango. I didn't. Everyone spoke fluent Ukrainian. I didn't. Everyone belonged to Plast or SUM. I didn't. I was what many new immigrants called an American-born "baniak." Girls from proper Ukrainian families did not date baniaks.

People often asked me how I got luscious Lesia, a gorgeous, former Miss Soyuziva, to marry me.

Here's the story I love to tell. I approached marriage very scientifically, I explain. I began my search with a survey of all eligible, single Ukrainian girls and discovered that there were exactly 100 of them.

Of these 100, 50 were from Ukrainian Orthodox homes. My family is Greek-Catholic. That left only 50 eligible maidens.

Of the remaining 50, 25 were old-calendar Catholics. My family was new calendar. That left only 25 eligibles.

Of these, 15 had parents who were staunch "Banderivtsi." My whole family belonged to the "Melnykivtsi" clan. That left 10 lasses.

Of the remaining 10, three were bone-ugly. Five of the remaining seven thought I was bone-ugly. That left two. One girl lived in California and never went to Soyuzivka. The last one was lovable Lesia, who taught singing at the cultural courses at Soyuzivka. I learned to tango, my Ukrainian improved, we had a long-distance romance, we married, and we've lived happily ever after.

Although the story isn't quite true, it does illustrate some of the absurd hurdles young Ukrainian people had, and in some instances continue to have, in seeking out eligible Ukrainian Americans to marry. The Greeks have it easier. They are not as diverse as we are. To my knowledge, they don't have a calendar issue, nor is something like the Banderivtsi-Melnykivtsi divide a major problem.

With some Ukrainians, language is also an issue. Today, there are still Ukrainian Orthodox and Ukrainian Catholic churches that wouldn't dream of offering an English-language liturgy. Ukrainian Americans married to non-Ukrainians are out of luck, especially if the non-Ukrainian spouse has been made to feel like a gypsy selling religious relics at a Baptist convention. If you don't believe me, try this. Attend a Ukrainian church where no one knows you. Observe what happens. There may be few people in the church but you can be almost certain that no one will come up to welcome you. If someone does, it will be in the Ukrainian language. Want to be a gypsy? Answer in English.

It is no secret that our church membership is dwindling. There is some hope that the Fourth Wave, unquestionably the largest immigration from Ukraine we've ever had, will respond to their frayed Ukrainian roots and join us. Don't bet on it, however. Some will, but many won't.

In the meantime, more and more of our young people will be marrying non-Ukrainians. It's inevitable. Can we continue to be so exclusionary? Is there a solution that works, really works?

Of course. Visit some of our early communities in the United States. Go to eastern Pennsylvania, where our pioneers first settled to work in the anthracite coal mines. Attend a liturgy at the Catholic church in Mount Carmel or Shenandoah, for example. The original churches burned down. New ones have been constructed in a Byzantine style by a membership that is Ukrainian, Italian, Polish, Rusyn and Irish - the children, grandchildren and great grandchildren of mixed marriages. Why are they here and not in a Latin-rite church? Because they love the beauty of the Ukrainian liturgy; they grew up with it; they understand it; it is part of their American heritage. The members of these churches attend liturgy and are active in the parish because their Ukrainian churches provide spiritual nourishment and renewal. Can you believe it? Ask them if they ever heard of the Banderivtsi and they will proudly answer, "Sure. They're the guys who play the bandura."

If you haven't seen "My Big Fat Greek Wedding," do so tonight. Tomorrow at the latest. You'll relate. You'll realize that Ukrainians aren't the only crazy ethnics on the block.

Myron Kuropas' e-mail address is: [email protected].

| Home Page |