Already a light mist of suspicion had accumulated around my fiancee and me due to her immigrant status. But I was NOT indulging in sarcasm and the implication that we were marrying for anything but the purest reasons was downright insulting. If my sincere, hopeful utterings did not convince everyone, it simply didn't matter. I was too busy being the giddy American guy heading over to Austria, to the scenic Tyrolian Alps, to marry a funny little Thai woman named Toi.

Western Austria is quite possibly the loveliest place on Earth. While traveling via train to "meet the parents" in the tourist town of Seefeld, I was witness to meadows full of the happiest cows I've ever seen. They nipped at each other, they pranced, they even wore cowbells! I began to realize I was entering a place where the grass really was greener, a place where jaywalking had apparently been banished by the well-mannered populace, a place where the chapel in which I was to be married was prominently pictured on postcards.

Despite the idyllic setting, to hint that this wedding was to be dictated by tradition would be wholly inaccurate. Toi grew up in both Thailand and Austria and has a Swiss-born but Austrian-citizen father and a Thai mother. Meanwhile, my mother is as American as apple pie. Before we'd really thought of ours as an "international wedding," we had a house full of Austrian, Swiss, Thai, and American people eating dinner and attempting to find common ground. Extraordinary Thai dinners and numerous bottles of Austrian white wine went a long way toward bringing the cultures together, but as expected, the real connection was the English language. Europeans and Asians will coyly apologize for their "bad" English (which is, of course, much better than our butchering of their respective languages), but I suspect that deep down they really, truly are laughing at the rather cute linguistic ineptitude of their American counterparts.

Our wedding service was to be bilingual, with a Catholic priest performing the service in German and a Lutheran pastor doing the English honors. And so, after a horse carriage ride led by men wearing funny hats and leather lederhosen, we arrived at the chapel. The rain that had plagued us for two and a half days miraculously abated, and the sun warmed the mountain air. The chapel itself, hundreds of years old, was tiny; it was formal yet inviting and in it we found a quartet waiting for the correct moment to transform the chilly chapel into a miniature classical concert. An ornate, guilded alter reached high into the rafters and soon became the center of attention for this particular groom. The reason for this is difficult to relate, but it does have something to do with the fact that we had no rehearsal...

Somehow I had been made to believe that I would be saying my wedding vows "auf Deutsch," that is, in German. So, as the priest sped through the readings in German, I found myself attempting to play back his last six to eight words and subsequently say them, with correct pronunciation, in my head. By the time I realized he was as lost as I was (he was following the "English" protocol from a pamphlet), it was time to answer a few quick questions, of which I remember exactly one. Stumbling over his English, the priest became slightly frustrated while attempting to ask a question about how we'd raise any future children. I waited. Finally, uttered more as a statement than a question he blurted out, "Kinder?" ("Children?") Not understanding exactly how to respond, I hesitated.

"Just say 'ja'!" he commanded.

The audience erupted with laughter. So I did it. I just smiled and said it: "Ja."

Afterwards, our wedding service was euphemistically described as "entertaining" and "interesting," which I suppose is a lot better than simply "nice" or, heaven forbid, "boring." To internationally muddy things further, I sang "Stand By Me" to my new bride at the reception and followed it by butchering the venerable tradition of the Austrian waltz.

It wasn't until later that the unintentional wisdom of "Just say 'ja'!" really dawned on me. Here we were, a motley mix of American, Thai, Austrian and Swiss people. It didn't matter whether or not we spoke certain languages. We got through the service with a mixture of respect and curiosity, and we'd get through the reception the same way. We were a newly created community whose solidarity had been engendered by the most basic, most universal language: love. Together we had dined, conversed, taken pictures, given gifts, experienced, learned, laughed, and, for some, even cried. We had just said "yes" to sharing our lives and our families with each other and we had survived it all in a multicultural environment. We were a world, albeit temporary, without politics or religious grievances. Love had linked more than the bride and groom; it had linked cultures, it had linked worlds. The best day of my entire life? Ja. A wedding day that can, in a small but powerful way, represent a model for humanity? Please, please just say "ja."

:: Peter Sennhauser

Peter is one of very few men to take his wife's last name in marriage. A former history major and bicycle messenger, he suffers under the delusion that others should read the things he writes. When he's not traveling to eastern Washington to see his 13-year-old son Britten, he's telling his 13-year-old son Britten to read Dune. [ Check out a few of his favorite goodthings ]

(Thoughts on Peter's GoodLetter? E-mail us -- don't forget to tell us your name, where you're from, and if we can use your words in a future GoodLetter or on our Web site.)


TALK ABOUT IT
How have you bridged cultural divides? How did it broaden your world view? And what you have learned about yourself and those around you in the process? Share your stories and ideas.

LEARN MORE ABOUT IT
:: The multicultural e-magazine, Urban Mozaik
:: A piece from Urban Mozaik on Love Without Borders
:: The photo essay Of Many Colors

:: Get a copy of the book, Cross-Cultural Marriage - Identity and Choice

:: Check out the classic movie, The Member of the Wedding (Thanks to reader Dave Godin of Sheffield, England, for this suggestion!)

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