Essay

Permission to marry

By Kip Cates

January is the month of my wedding anniversary. My wife is Japanese. She and I met in Kobe, and we decided to tie the knot after dating for a year. The biggest challenge we faced was getting permission from her father.

To persuade him that I'd be a good son-in-law, I prepared a 5-minute speech in English about my background and my future plans. My girlfriend helped me to translate this into Japanese. I rehearsed it until I knew it by heart.

The next weekend, we took the long train ride back to her hometown. Her whole family was there. Excitement was in the air. Everyone knew that this was "the big day" when I would pop the question.

When dinner finished, her parents announced: "We have an important talk with Kip. Everyone out!" I steeled myself for what was to come. At least, I had my girlfriend beside me for support.

However, her father pointed to her and said: "You leave, too. This is between Kip and us." Now, there were three of us -- her father, her mother and me. Two against one. I was on my own!

"The best defense is a good offense," I thought. I quickly launched into my Japanese speech. Halfway through my monologue, however, her father interrupted. "I have just one question for you," he said. One question. What could it be? My mind raced with possibilities: "What's your salary?" maybe, or "Do you love my daughter?"

When the question came, I was caught totally off guard. "Do you have your mother's permission to marry?" he asked.

My mother's permission? His question didn't make sense. My father had already passed away. But, I wasn't a child. I was almost 30. I hadn't asked for my mother's permission since I was a teenager! What to answer?

"Actually," I lied, "I wanted to ask you first before contacting my mother." "Well, call your mother and get permission," he ordered. "Then, we can negotiate further."

The next day, I made a long-distance phone call to my mother in California. It was a very strange conversation! "Mom," I said. "I need your permission to marry my girlfriend in Japan." "You're joking, right?" she asked. "No." I said. "I'm serious. I need your consent or I can't get married." The idea of her 27-year-old son asking for permission was so funny that she broke out laughing. "OK!" she said. "You have my permission." I immediately phoned my girlfriend's father to report the good news.

In my culture, once you reach the age of 18, you're an adult and don't need your parents' permission for anything. For my Japanese father-in-law, a man who asks his parents for permission is someone who respects his elders, follows tradition and values human relations. Such a person makes a good son-in-law. Luckily, I passed the test and was finally allowed to marry!

Shukan ST: JANUARY 25, 2013

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