Location: Moshav Magshimim
Time: 11 A.M.
In the neighborhood: A slow, easy breeze, a welcome visitor after the first truly hot days of the young summer, blows through the lush gardens and fruit orchards that make up most of Magshimim, a moshav just south of Petah Tikva. Above the tree line, soft jazz (Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World”) drifts lazily into the air.
Venue: A wide, verdant lawn populated by rows of full-grown pecan trees and hidden from sight by a border of tall shrubbery. Colorful fruit-juice and fruit-shake stands dot the green background, with white tables and benches filling the more remote areas.
Simcha: Shy and Adam’s wedding
Number of guests: About 140
A brief history of time: Shy, 25, a fitness and health instructor, was born to Eliyahu and Leah Buba and raised in a secular family alongside sister Tali and brother Uzi. Adam, 33, a Web programmer and website developer, was born to Shlomo and Dalia Hazon and raised in a mostly secular Ramat Gan home (“my dad likes to fast on Yom Kippur”) along with older brother David (“Dudi”). Both Adam and Shy have adopted a fruitarian diet, meaning they ingest only fresh, raw, unprocessed fruits and vegetables, without spices or oil of any kind.
Get your fruit on: About three years ago, before meeting each other, and each for their own reasons, both Adam and Shy turned to fruitarianism. For Adam it was more of a medical choice, a way out of a chronic bowel condition. After doing a fair share of research (“I scoured the Internet”) he went fruitarian, and never looked back (“I haven’t even had a cold or flu for two-and-a-half years”). Already a vegan for ideological reasons before going full-on fruitarian, Shy made her choice after she “had it up to here,” as she says, of being sick. After she complained to a friend, the friend suggested a fruit-only diet and after a few second thoughts she went for it (“It was fun, tasty and healthy, so I just kept on doing it”).
Meeting up: Searching the Internet for like-minded fruitarians, Shy bumped into Adam, with their relationship remaining virtual until their group arranged a real-life fruit picnic. That was really all they needed. Shy: “We found ourselves talking from 10 A.M. to 10 P.M., and we kind of understood that this was it.” A week and a half later they were already moving in together, and four months after that Shy popped the question. Adam: “I was already planning how I was going to do it, what ring to buy and all that. And then she beat me to it.”
Shy and Adam's fruitarian wedding.
Rites: Guests leisurely stream into the wide garden on a sunny, yet atypically pleasant Friday afternoon. Shy, in a white dress and a smile as wide as the sun, and Adam, slender in dark dress pants and a buttoned-up white shirt, hold their post near the entrance, embracing friends and family.
Guests then funnel through the happy couple into a fruit-filled wonderland with colorful, fresh globes in all manner of shapes and colors that seem to assault the senses from every angle. Fruit shake and juice stands on the periphery, along with a healthy fruit buffet, as well as waiters carrying platters of cherries, apricots and watermelon among the crowd.
On the white tables, little signs are placed, each either bearing information concerning the fruitarian diet (“mangos and papayas are rich with Omega-3”) or tidbits about the bride (“her favorite movie is ‘Frozen’”) and groom (“he wanted to be a ninja when he was a boy”).
Over at the designated smoking section, a few young women squash cigarette butts into the only ashtray in sight: a glass of orange juice, while a group of older men and women, visibly shaken by the unique diet, try to come to terms with their eating possibilities (“Here,” said one gentleman smiling to a female companion, “I got you a plate of weeds”).
Soon enough, the guests are flocking to the “main course” buffet, where a blinding array of salads is served. Here, too, the comments just keep on coming (“This is so original!” “Look at me! I’m vegan now!”).
At around half-past noon the guests are asked to congregate in the shade before an elevated piece of the garden where Dudi, Adam’s older brother, conducts the civilian ceremony. First comes the reading of the vows (Shy: “You are connected my heart”; Adam: “I’ll never let you go”), and then the ceremonial joint planting of a young plant as a sign for their new home and life, instead of the rudimentary breaking of the glass.
The bride and groom kiss, and bang goes the party.
As dancing erupts and the all-fresh-fruit cake is sliced and handed out, guests being to peter out, each given their choice of potted herbs (sage, mint, thyme and others).
Music: Soft jazz and rock for the reception, rocking MTV-ish beats for the dancing.
Food: Fruit. Oh, and a whole bunch of salads (tomato, zucchini, cucumber, avocado and carrot sushi rolls, and much more).
Drink: Fresh juices (orange, beetroot, celery, carrot, apple), fruit shakes and water.
Word in the ear: Adam, on how the family reacted to the idea of a fruitarian buffet: ״Ultimately, this is our event. We’re putting a lot of time and money into it, and it’s our special day that we’ll always be reminded of through pictures and movies, and I think it needs to represent our way of life, our outlook and to show a little of our world to others, so they’d see it’s not that bad.”
In my spiritual doggy bag: That getting to know what makes you good in life could be the fast track to finding someone who makes you feel even better.
Random quote: A father jokingly warns his son to stop fooling around as they prepare to enter the reception: “You see those beehives over there? You want me to tie you to one of those?”
Want to take part in Someone Else’s Simcha? Want to invite Haaretz to your family celebration? Send word to: HaaretzSimcha@gmail.com
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