It was a beautiful fall morning. In a small Bulgarian town, a folk group filled the air with cheerful music. A young bride groom, followed by a boisterous crowd, was going to ask for the hand of his young bride. The gaïda dominated the racket and the rhythmic beats of the bass drum filled everyone’s spirits with joyful excitement.
But the door of the young bride’s house was shut tight. Custom has it that the bride groom must find a clever way to win the hand of his future spouse. In a moment, the gaïda falls silent. I saw that even this silence was part of the way this curious instrument was played. Finally the young man pretended to break down the door and it was then that the young bride appeared in all her wedding finery. The gaïda began to play, shouting out the victory and triumph of love.
But the surprises were not over. Suddenly, the bride began to sob loud and long. The bride was saying goodbye to her parents, her paternal home and her girlfriends.
Then the group began a light-hearted tune and everyone turned towards the city hall and the church.
After the wedding, everyone sat around tables outdoors where a lavish lunch awaited the guests. The feasting went on late into the night. And up until the end, the untiring gaïda never stopped, urging us to sing, dance, and dream of the happy life awaiting the young couple.
