Did you know that in old Armenia, most of the marriages were prearranged by the family?  They even went as far as making marriage commitments for their children at birth.  

It was also customary, in those days, for the bride’s family to give a dowry.   This dowry could be in the form of money, livestock, or even services--whatever the bride’s family could afford.   It wasn’t as much a tribute as it was to better establish their daughter’s future.   Upon marriage, the bride became a part of her husband’s family and the dowry was her parent’s way of easing her into her strange, new life.

If a boy and girl weren’t committed by prearrangement and they became attracted to each other (usually through eye-to-eye contact), the boy would express his desire to his father who, on approval, would informally approach the girl’s father to feel him out.   Under no circumstances could the boy approach the girl or her family on his own.   This was considered not only disrespectful but dangerous as well.   If, on the other hand, the girl had an older sister, the father oftentimes would refuse marriage until his older daughter was spoken for.  To avoid this problem, the parents of an aging daughter who wasn’t spoken for, would oftentimes go in search of a suitor, dowry in hand.   Some of these turned out to be mismatches which were near tragic.   On a positive side, however, there weren’t many old country daughters who remained unmarried.

I suppose it was the subjugated conditions under which our ancestors lived, coupled with the normal day-to-day hardships that they had to endure, that made true romance and open courtships a luxury.   Because of the state they had to survive in, there was a time to plant and a time to harvest--vegetables, animals or people, it made very little difference.

If we were to take a closer look at these old-time marriages, we would find that outside of it being a simple bond of matrimony between a boy and girl, it was also a bond between their families.   In other words, it was more like a bond between two nations when their royalty married.  And even though these marriages were not through natural selection, in time, a warm and loving relation ultimately developed.  

Another irony to this situation was the fact that our forbearers placed more importance on their sons than on their daughters.   However, since the women usually outlived their men, it was generally the matriarch who became the oldest and most respected in the family.

In any case, the next thing on the road to a nishun-dook (engagement) after the preliminaries were out of the way, was a khosk-gub (word tie).   Even though the marriage commitments were made in advance, it was traditionally accepted through the boy’s family to approach the girl’s family and thereafter to formally ask for the girl’s hand in marriage.  In effect, a khosk-gub was a formal enactment and confirmation to everything the two families had previously agreed to.

While the boy stood nervously next to his father, the father who was comfortably seated, said to the girl’s father, who was also comfortably seated,"We are here because we want your daughter’s, (name), hand in marriage for our son (name)."  "I see," the girl’s father would reply with feigned surprise.   Then he would ask the usual questions of concern.  "Can he support a wife?   Does he drink excessively?  Is he lazy?  Is he kind to animals?"   As soon as these questions were properly answered by the boy’s father, which was usually elaborately overdone, the girl’s father would summon his daughter.  "This boy wants to marry you."  Then he would ask, "Would you like to marry him?"   After a moment of strained silence, the girl would reply, "Yes," with timid reluctance.  The girl’s father would then give the boy and his daughter his blessing and the daughter’s mother would start weeping profusely.  After a toast of homemade rhaki wishing the pesuh-tzoo (groom-to-be) and huhrs-oon-tzoo (bride-to-be), health and happiness, the parents would embrace both of them and then each other.  At no time during these proceedings would the young couple be allowed to embrace or, for that matter, to even shake hands.  With the formal part of the khoask-gub out of the way, the girl’s father would then, as if moved by the moment, tell everyone of the gifts that he would give to the intended--all of which was previously discussed and agreed to.   

After a show of overwhelming humble and feigned surprise, the boy’s family, as if by lucky chance or coincidence, would bring forth a valued gift for the girl.   A small festivity would follow and the evening would end on a happy note.

Since it was the inherent right of the Armenian father of the boy to initiate an intent of marriage, it was also his obligation to give the wedding, leaving the girl’s family with the  obligation of giving the nishun-dook.   It was at this gathering that a religious ceremony of promise took place, under the guidance of a priest and witnessed by both families, friends, and relatives.  

As the priest goes through the ceremony, the boy and girl stand facing him with the appointed gunk-uh hayr (godfather) next to the pes-uh-tzoo and the appointed gunk-uh mayr (godmother) next to the huhrs-oon-tzoo.

A small celebration would follow and everyone would become socially involved.  It is at this celebration that the girl’s family would talk in praise of their nor (new) pes-uh-tzoo while quickly pointing out the angelic virtues of their huhrs-oon-tzoo daughter.   And not to be outdone, the same polite response would follow from the pes-uh-tzoo’s family.  In any event, as the evening wore on, so would the formalities and the evening would finally give way to singing, dancing, and festive rejoicing.  

The period between nish-un-dooks and huhrsnigs (weddings) were relatively short, usually no more than a month.  As to the boy and girl, they were allowed to see each other but only with a third party present.  They could talk but they couldn’t touch.  Therefore, it was easy to understand why they had to hurry with the wedding.  

Up to this point, I’ve tried to accurately describe what had to take place before a wedding took place in old Armenia and even though most of those old traditions are not practiced in our modern-day Diaspora existence, the most glaring example of the results are in the fact that the outcome of those old country marriages were much more permanent than the ones that we see today.

Joseph Vosbikian