So, it’s week three. It’s week three, and my honeymoon is coming to a close, after a late start. Jairo will be working, I will be at home working on ministry stuff, and when we’re not doing that, we’ll both be spending a lot of time in the church. But I’ll tell you a secret. I’m not ready!
I know, I know. Three weeks! It’s a long time! I should be rested, rejuvenated, a little bored, and ready to get back to work! After all, it’s ministry, it’s what I came here to do, it’s my calling. But I’m not ready.
The truth is, I love people, but I’m not very outgoing. I like my space. I like having my time to blog, to read my Bible, to watch Alias, and I like having access to my husband whenever I want. It’s selfish, I know. My, my, my, I, I, I.
My husband, on the other hand, is ready. He got the rest he needed, now he restless. He wants back in. It’s not that I don’t want to. I do want to. I just know that once it starts, it won’t slow down until I’m like 80 years old. There’s so much work to do. I have so many dreams, goals, and plans.
I think, honestly, I’m kind of nervous. I just really want everything to work out; I want to be able to make a difference. I’m hesitant to start mostly because I don’t want to mess up. But I guess it’s true what I tell Spanish students; you can’t let your fear of messing up keep you from trying. If you never try to say something in Spanish, you won’t learn to speak. Life’s like that, too. If you don’t try things, you won’t really ever live your life.
So I’ll make a deal with you. But only if you really mean it.
Let’s do that thing we’ve wanted to do, but have been afraid to try. Let’s do it together. I’m gonna tell you how it’s going for me (I mean, that’s kind of why I have a blog), and I’d like you to tell me too. Comment me here on my blog, facebook me, myspace me, email me, whatever. I want to know how it’s going. Tell me what your “thing” is, and what you’re doing to achieve it. I’m pretty sure I’m not the only on this planet who has dreams that seem impossible and scary. If you have those dreams too, tell me about them! I want to know. Seriously.
Let the comments, messages and emails begin!!
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Week Two: One More Suitcase
I am almost unpacked. It is the end of week two, and I am almost unpacked. I just have one more suitcase to go. If Jairo and I were competing to see who is most unpacked, I would win, hands down. I’m feeling pretty good about it.
The only problem is that this last suitcase is full of all the things I didn’t know what to do with. So, even though I only have one more suitcase to go, I’m thinking it could be like a year until I get this last one unpacked. Which means Jairo might beat me after all.
Jairo commented to me the other day that changing houses is really not fun. He’s right. I mean, looking for a new place if exciting and fun, and even paying the security deposit and knowing it’s yours is exciting. But actually moving, not fun. And I didn’t move across town, either. I moved across continents.
It will be weird, I think, to be finally unpacked. Even when I lived in Maine, I always had one little unpacked suitcase. Same when I went back to Illinois for a few months. I think it was my reminder that I wasn’t at home. But now I am at home. My home. I don’t have any more reason to stash away an unpacked suitcase. I don’t have anywhere else to go.
I hopped a plane and flew really far away from “home,” aka the place I grew up, to make a new home. It’s a weird feeling to have gone so far for so long never letting myself really settle down anywhere, and now I’m here, on my bed, in my house, settled. And yet, I don’t feel boxed in. I don’t feel trapped. I feel content. I’m happy to have a home, and even happier that I get to share it with my best friend and husband, Jairo. And our dog.
The only problem is that this last suitcase is full of all the things I didn’t know what to do with. So, even though I only have one more suitcase to go, I’m thinking it could be like a year until I get this last one unpacked. Which means Jairo might beat me after all.
Jairo commented to me the other day that changing houses is really not fun. He’s right. I mean, looking for a new place if exciting and fun, and even paying the security deposit and knowing it’s yours is exciting. But actually moving, not fun. And I didn’t move across town, either. I moved across continents.
It will be weird, I think, to be finally unpacked. Even when I lived in Maine, I always had one little unpacked suitcase. Same when I went back to Illinois for a few months. I think it was my reminder that I wasn’t at home. But now I am at home. My home. I don’t have any more reason to stash away an unpacked suitcase. I don’t have anywhere else to go.
I hopped a plane and flew really far away from “home,” aka the place I grew up, to make a new home. It’s a weird feeling to have gone so far for so long never letting myself really settle down anywhere, and now I’m here, on my bed, in my house, settled. And yet, I don’t feel boxed in. I don’t feel trapped. I feel content. I’m happy to have a home, and even happier that I get to share it with my best friend and husband, Jairo. And our dog.
Week Two: A Baby in the House
Just in case you were worried about the title, no, I’m not pregnant. But I do have a puppy! Her name is Sydney, named after Jennifer Garner’s character on Alias...I have all of the seasons on dvd and Jairo and I are hooked. Turns out they have it dubbed in Spanish! Anyway...She’s about 6 weeks old, brown, very cute. I have no idea what breed she is, but I’m guessing full-blooded mutt.
The thing about Sydney is she’s like a human. It’s weird. She’s moody, nervous, and super attached to me and Jairo, after only a few days. She gets mad at us if we don’t pay attention to her constantly, and she will not go to sleep if she’s not touching one of us. On the plus side, in just about 4 days that we’ve had her, we’ve gotten her almost completely house-trained! She’s very smart.
It’s been interesting to see the way Jairo interacts with her. He’s very loving and tender with her, but also gets extremely annoyed with her if she goes to the bathroom in the house. It’s been interesting to watch.
I think she’s a fully-integrated part of our new family, and her antics always help to lighten the mood. But she is also an enormous test of patience and a huge confirmation that we are not ready for kids! Although the good thing about kids is that they don’t wake you up at 5am to go outside by biting your face!!
Pets are interesting because they can bring out the best or worst in you, depending on what they’re doing. They can bring out loving emotions and actions, or they can provoke you to lose your temper in an instant with some naughty thing they’ve done. Your true self is revealed much more quickly in front of a pet than in front of a friend or love interest who you generally try to impress with the best side of you. But pets also accept you like you are, whether you yell at them or hug them.
If more people took on that kind of attitude about their spouses, I think there would be a lot less divorce. What I mean is, no matter what I do to my dog, as long as I’m not just downright evil to her, she’s going to love me, and she won’t run away. As a married person it’s important to remember that your spouse is a person, and sometimes they will bore you, drive you crazy, make you angry, make choices you disagree with, etc. But when you get married, you make a promise to never give up on that person, until death. A lot of people go into marriage with the idea that divorce is a last resort. For me, it’s not even an option. There is no room for divorce when I made a promise to stick it out until death. We have to accept that a spouse is an imperfect person, just like we are, and will not always meet our needs. What a blessing that we have a perfect God who can do just that!!
The thing about Sydney is she’s like a human. It’s weird. She’s moody, nervous, and super attached to me and Jairo, after only a few days. She gets mad at us if we don’t pay attention to her constantly, and she will not go to sleep if she’s not touching one of us. On the plus side, in just about 4 days that we’ve had her, we’ve gotten her almost completely house-trained! She’s very smart.
It’s been interesting to see the way Jairo interacts with her. He’s very loving and tender with her, but also gets extremely annoyed with her if she goes to the bathroom in the house. It’s been interesting to watch.
I think she’s a fully-integrated part of our new family, and her antics always help to lighten the mood. But she is also an enormous test of patience and a huge confirmation that we are not ready for kids! Although the good thing about kids is that they don’t wake you up at 5am to go outside by biting your face!!
Pets are interesting because they can bring out the best or worst in you, depending on what they’re doing. They can bring out loving emotions and actions, or they can provoke you to lose your temper in an instant with some naughty thing they’ve done. Your true self is revealed much more quickly in front of a pet than in front of a friend or love interest who you generally try to impress with the best side of you. But pets also accept you like you are, whether you yell at them or hug them.
If more people took on that kind of attitude about their spouses, I think there would be a lot less divorce. What I mean is, no matter what I do to my dog, as long as I’m not just downright evil to her, she’s going to love me, and she won’t run away. As a married person it’s important to remember that your spouse is a person, and sometimes they will bore you, drive you crazy, make you angry, make choices you disagree with, etc. But when you get married, you make a promise to never give up on that person, until death. A lot of people go into marriage with the idea that divorce is a last resort. For me, it’s not even an option. There is no room for divorce when I made a promise to stick it out until death. We have to accept that a spouse is an imperfect person, just like we are, and will not always meet our needs. What a blessing that we have a perfect God who can do just that!!
Week Two: Adventures in Baking
So, you know how when you were little your mom always had dinner ready for you around the same time of day, and it was generally a pretty balanced meal, and, more often than not, it was pretty good? I mean, the chicken wasn’t raw in parts, the green beans weren’t burnt, the food didn’t get cold before you ate it? Well, guess what. It’s harder than it looks. And even harder at a ridiculously high altitude.
I’ve always liked cooking, but since I’ve been on my own I was never one for scheduled meals, and I never had enough money for balanced ones, I didn’t mind eating plain white rice at 2am if that’s what was in the house and that was when I got hungry. But do you who that doesn’t work with? A husband.
I’ve figured out that making a meal here in Quito takes on average about 90 minutes. I’ve learned that there are like 50 kinds of rice (which is served with every single Ecuadorian meal), and the best one for high altitudes is pescadito. I’ve learned that baked fish sometimes just looks done, but you have to triple check the center before you turn off the oven. I officially really want a blender and a pressure cooker, because I want to make pasta sauces, and I don’t want to have to cook lentils the night before. I also need mixing bowls and a few more pots and pans. But, overall, I think I’m adjusting pretty well to this whole domestic thing.
I made banana bread, which, aside from the fact that I burnt the bottom a little, was actually pretty stinkin’ good, if I do say so myself. I also made oatmeal cookies, my trademark, which turned out great except for when I forgot that I had one more batch in the oven and left them there for like 45 minutes. Jairo said they looked more like Oreos. I’m thinking seriously about making some coffee cake tonight. Here’s to not burning the bottom! Wish me luck!
I’ve always liked cooking, but since I’ve been on my own I was never one for scheduled meals, and I never had enough money for balanced ones, I didn’t mind eating plain white rice at 2am if that’s what was in the house and that was when I got hungry. But do you who that doesn’t work with? A husband.
I’ve figured out that making a meal here in Quito takes on average about 90 minutes. I’ve learned that there are like 50 kinds of rice (which is served with every single Ecuadorian meal), and the best one for high altitudes is pescadito. I’ve learned that baked fish sometimes just looks done, but you have to triple check the center before you turn off the oven. I officially really want a blender and a pressure cooker, because I want to make pasta sauces, and I don’t want to have to cook lentils the night before. I also need mixing bowls and a few more pots and pans. But, overall, I think I’m adjusting pretty well to this whole domestic thing.
I made banana bread, which, aside from the fact that I burnt the bottom a little, was actually pretty stinkin’ good, if I do say so myself. I also made oatmeal cookies, my trademark, which turned out great except for when I forgot that I had one more batch in the oven and left them there for like 45 minutes. Jairo said they looked more like Oreos. I’m thinking seriously about making some coffee cake tonight. Here’s to not burning the bottom! Wish me luck!
Week Two: Sick Husband, Dirty House
The day my in-laws came to visit and stay the night, Jairo came down with the flu. By the next morning when they left, he couldn’t even get out of bed. So, I took his parents to get a taxi to the bus terminal and then went to the pharmacy for medicine and Gatorade. Then I spent the next few days taking care of him, and the housework. Which was not always that fun. It was the sickest I’ve seen him, and I felt kind of helpless, knowing I couldn’t really do much besides giving him his medicine, making sure he drank plenty of liquids, and praying for him.
It’s a weird feeling starting to take care of someone, someone who depends on just you, when you’ve spent your life being taken care of. What’s weirder is that when you marry someone from a different culture, what you know about taking care of someone may be completely “wrong”. For example, when I’m sick with a sore throat I want something cold. Ever since I was little it was popsicles and 7up for a sore throat. Here, eating something cold when sick with a sore throat is the worst possible thing to do. When I’m sick with a stomach ache, I drink sprite or ginger ale. Here when you have a stomach ache you definitely do not ever drink soda. So what do you do when those little tricks you’ve learned your whole life don’t work on someone you’re taking care of?
Jairo and I have our way of dealing with this which is pretty obvious yet harder than it sounds. We just tell each other what we need. For example, Jairo told me that he really needed flax seed tea. Weirdo. I, on the other hand, have often been sick with stomach aches here in Ecuador and I always ask for sprite. It’s harder than it sounds, first of all to ask for something when you know the other person thinks you’re crazy, and even harder to give the person what they need without slamming their upbringing and making it obvious you think that they’re crazy.
I think it comes down to a matter of respect and swallowing your pride. The respect you have for your spouse means that you recognize that it’s very possible that their way of doing things works for them, and you do what you can to provide whatever it is that they need. The swallowing your pride comes in by realizing that your way isn’t the only way, and another way could even be superior to yours.
A large part of marriage, I think, is learning as much as you can about the person you’re married to, and realizing that you will always have more to learn. Marriage is about making your spouse feel accepted and safe with you, and you can’t do that by lying to them. You have to be open and honest, while preserving respect for that person. For us, it looks something like this: “Oh really? That’s funny; where I’m from we do the opposite! Does what you said really work? Wow!”
You can be honest about the things that weird you out without having to hurt the other person, and the benefit is that for next time, they know that you’re different in that area and are more likely to understand you, too, and to trust you enough to tell you more about themselves. Even though you’re married to that person, you don’t have a free pass to make them feel inferior, or to be yourself to such a point that you never improve your flaws and become a better person. I think a characteristic of a good marriage is that the husband and wife are always helping each other grow and excel, and there is always forward motion. And I think it’s never too late to start doing that.
It’s a weird feeling starting to take care of someone, someone who depends on just you, when you’ve spent your life being taken care of. What’s weirder is that when you marry someone from a different culture, what you know about taking care of someone may be completely “wrong”. For example, when I’m sick with a sore throat I want something cold. Ever since I was little it was popsicles and 7up for a sore throat. Here, eating something cold when sick with a sore throat is the worst possible thing to do. When I’m sick with a stomach ache, I drink sprite or ginger ale. Here when you have a stomach ache you definitely do not ever drink soda. So what do you do when those little tricks you’ve learned your whole life don’t work on someone you’re taking care of?
Jairo and I have our way of dealing with this which is pretty obvious yet harder than it sounds. We just tell each other what we need. For example, Jairo told me that he really needed flax seed tea. Weirdo. I, on the other hand, have often been sick with stomach aches here in Ecuador and I always ask for sprite. It’s harder than it sounds, first of all to ask for something when you know the other person thinks you’re crazy, and even harder to give the person what they need without slamming their upbringing and making it obvious you think that they’re crazy.
I think it comes down to a matter of respect and swallowing your pride. The respect you have for your spouse means that you recognize that it’s very possible that their way of doing things works for them, and you do what you can to provide whatever it is that they need. The swallowing your pride comes in by realizing that your way isn’t the only way, and another way could even be superior to yours.
A large part of marriage, I think, is learning as much as you can about the person you’re married to, and realizing that you will always have more to learn. Marriage is about making your spouse feel accepted and safe with you, and you can’t do that by lying to them. You have to be open and honest, while preserving respect for that person. For us, it looks something like this: “Oh really? That’s funny; where I’m from we do the opposite! Does what you said really work? Wow!”
You can be honest about the things that weird you out without having to hurt the other person, and the benefit is that for next time, they know that you’re different in that area and are more likely to understand you, too, and to trust you enough to tell you more about themselves. Even though you’re married to that person, you don’t have a free pass to make them feel inferior, or to be yourself to such a point that you never improve your flaws and become a better person. I think a characteristic of a good marriage is that the husband and wife are always helping each other grow and excel, and there is always forward motion. And I think it’s never too late to start doing that.
Week Two: Alone Together
It’s funny. You wait your whole dating relationship to finally be alone together, right? But it wasn’t actually that exciting for me when all the guests left and we returned home, just the two of us for the first time. It was nerve-wracking! I found myself worrying about what we would do, if we would get bored or sick of each other, wondering what to talk to him about. On the outside I was fine, but inside I was freaking out!
We had taken Bre and Jonathan to the bus terminal and when we got home, the apartment was so quiet! We were finally in our house, by ourselves, we could do whatever we wanted, and that terrified me. There were no rules, no one telling us what to do, just us.
Last night I asked Jairo if he was nervous too, and he gave a resounding “yes!”. He said that for him it was weird, and he didn’t really know how to behave. Now we’re well into our second week and the nervousness and uneasiness have worn off. We’re emotionally settled in, although not physically unpacked, and it feels like home. And since we’re technically on our honeymoon still, even though we’re at home, we’ve been together the whole time since we got here, which has solidified it being “our place”. It’s gone from being nerve-wracking to being reassuring to arrive at home after a day spent around Quito. It’s good to be home.
We had taken Bre and Jonathan to the bus terminal and when we got home, the apartment was so quiet! We were finally in our house, by ourselves, we could do whatever we wanted, and that terrified me. There were no rules, no one telling us what to do, just us.
Last night I asked Jairo if he was nervous too, and he gave a resounding “yes!”. He said that for him it was weird, and he didn’t really know how to behave. Now we’re well into our second week and the nervousness and uneasiness have worn off. We’re emotionally settled in, although not physically unpacked, and it feels like home. And since we’re technically on our honeymoon still, even though we’re at home, we’ve been together the whole time since we got here, which has solidified it being “our place”. It’s gone from being nerve-wracking to being reassuring to arrive at home after a day spent around Quito. It’s good to be home.
Week Two: Post-Wedding Blues
I saw a wedding dress at the mall and it made me really sad. It made me think, what happens when the day you dreamt about your whole life has passed. What do you dream about now, as a woman?
I’m happy with the way my wedding turned out. I’m happy to be married. I like having my own place with my own husband. I like cooking, I don’t mind cleaning...I mean, I don’t have any reason to be sad. The wedding was a success, and we’re going to make sure the marriage is too. But there’s something magical about the day you get married, and there’s so much anticipation that when it’s over, you kind of miss it. I mean, at least I do. It’s like, my wedding was a constant friend since I was a very little girl, always there when I wanted something to dream about. And now? I mean, I can set goals for myself, things I want to achieve or do someday, but what will ever be as big, as magical, as meaningful as my wedding?
Now, don’t get me wrong. The marriage is way more important than the wedding, I know that. But, I imagine that the majority of those of you who are reading this are women, so I think you get my point. What else does a woman have to look forward to after that big day?
My first thought was having children. You know, if you want them, and I do. But then I thought, you know, I know it’s totally worth it and everything but it’s nothing like a wedding. My wedding wasn’t the worst pain I ever felt, it didn’t give me stretch marks, it didn’t end up in me losing all of my money for at least 18 years...you get my point. When will I ever be as beautiful as I was on my wedding? When will I ever get that kind of attention again?
And I guess that’s where the Holy Spirit starts bugging me about my priorities. Read what Peter says about a woman’s beauty in 1 Peter 3: “Do not let your adorning (or beauty) be external—the braiding of hair and the putting on of gold jewelry, or the clothing you wear—but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God’s sight is very precious.”
I got ready for my wedding months before, eating right, doing my whole beauty regimen, etc. But now it’s time to shift my focus. Sure, I can still be beautiful. I can wear makeup and eat right. I mean I do have a husband to think about. But the point Peter is making here is that outward beauty will fade. It can’t be a woman’s only beauty. Now that my wedding is over I have to strive to be a beautiful wife. The Bible talks a lot about what makes a woman truly beautiful, and part of that is wisdom. If you want enough to keep you busy for years, try getting started with Proverbs 31. We can do it together.
Proverbs 31:
An excellent wife who can find? She is far more precious than jewels.
- The heart of her husband trusts in her, and he will have no lack of gain.
- She does him good, and not harm, all the days of her life.
- She seeks wool and flax, and works with willing hands.
- She is like the ships of the merchant; she brings her food from afar.
- She rises while it is yet night and provides food for her household and portions for her maidens.
- She considers a field and buys it; with the fruit of her hands she plants a vineyard.
- She dresses herself with strength and makes her arms strong.
- She perceives that her merchandise is profitable. Her lamp does not go out at night.
- She puts her hands to the distaff, and her hands hold the spindle.
- She opens her hand to the poor and reaches out her hands to the needy.
- She is not afraid of snow for her household, for all her household are clothed in scarlet.
- She makes bed coverings for herself; her clothing is fine linen and purple.
- Her husband is known in the gates when he sits among the elders of the land.
- She makes linen garments and sells them; she delivers sashes to the merchant.
- Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come.
- She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.
- She looks well to the ways of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness.
- Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: "Many women have done excellently, but you surpass them all."
Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised. Give her of the fruit of her hands, and let her works praise her in the gates.
I’m happy with the way my wedding turned out. I’m happy to be married. I like having my own place with my own husband. I like cooking, I don’t mind cleaning...I mean, I don’t have any reason to be sad. The wedding was a success, and we’re going to make sure the marriage is too. But there’s something magical about the day you get married, and there’s so much anticipation that when it’s over, you kind of miss it. I mean, at least I do. It’s like, my wedding was a constant friend since I was a very little girl, always there when I wanted something to dream about. And now? I mean, I can set goals for myself, things I want to achieve or do someday, but what will ever be as big, as magical, as meaningful as my wedding?
Now, don’t get me wrong. The marriage is way more important than the wedding, I know that. But, I imagine that the majority of those of you who are reading this are women, so I think you get my point. What else does a woman have to look forward to after that big day?
My first thought was having children. You know, if you want them, and I do. But then I thought, you know, I know it’s totally worth it and everything but it’s nothing like a wedding. My wedding wasn’t the worst pain I ever felt, it didn’t give me stretch marks, it didn’t end up in me losing all of my money for at least 18 years...you get my point. When will I ever be as beautiful as I was on my wedding? When will I ever get that kind of attention again?
And I guess that’s where the Holy Spirit starts bugging me about my priorities. Read what Peter says about a woman’s beauty in 1 Peter 3: “Do not let your adorning (or beauty) be external—the braiding of hair and the putting on of gold jewelry, or the clothing you wear—but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God’s sight is very precious.”
I got ready for my wedding months before, eating right, doing my whole beauty regimen, etc. But now it’s time to shift my focus. Sure, I can still be beautiful. I can wear makeup and eat right. I mean I do have a husband to think about. But the point Peter is making here is that outward beauty will fade. It can’t be a woman’s only beauty. Now that my wedding is over I have to strive to be a beautiful wife. The Bible talks a lot about what makes a woman truly beautiful, and part of that is wisdom. If you want enough to keep you busy for years, try getting started with Proverbs 31. We can do it together.
Proverbs 31:
An excellent wife who can find? She is far more precious than jewels.
- The heart of her husband trusts in her, and he will have no lack of gain.
- She does him good, and not harm, all the days of her life.
- She seeks wool and flax, and works with willing hands.
- She is like the ships of the merchant; she brings her food from afar.
- She rises while it is yet night and provides food for her household and portions for her maidens.
- She considers a field and buys it; with the fruit of her hands she plants a vineyard.
- She dresses herself with strength and makes her arms strong.
- She perceives that her merchandise is profitable. Her lamp does not go out at night.
- She puts her hands to the distaff, and her hands hold the spindle.
- She opens her hand to the poor and reaches out her hands to the needy.
- She is not afraid of snow for her household, for all her household are clothed in scarlet.
- She makes bed coverings for herself; her clothing is fine linen and purple.
- Her husband is known in the gates when he sits among the elders of the land.
- She makes linen garments and sells them; she delivers sashes to the merchant.
- Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come.
- She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.
- She looks well to the ways of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness.
- Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: "Many women have done excellently, but you surpass them all."
Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised. Give her of the fruit of her hands, and let her works praise her in the gates.
Week One: An Unexpected Visitor
I want to talk a little bit about culture. I feel the need to vent.
I’ve told you about the many guests we had in our house in week one. But I left one out. A very unexpected one. We were finally alone in the house for the first time. It was nighttime, not terribly late, maybe like 7:30 or 8:00. We had already finished dinner and cleaned up the house. So, naturally, as one might assume a newlywed couple might do on their first night alone together, we decided to spend the rest of the evening together, alone, and hopefully somewhat romantically. I decided to put on something appropriate for the occasion, and Jairo hung up a blanket where a curtain should go in our room because we don’t have curtains yet, and didn’t really feel like sharing our evening with the neighborhood.
Everything was going well until we hear a knock at the door. Was that our door? We listened again. Yes, it was definitely our door. Ok. Panic. What were we going to do? I didn’t have any extra clothes, a robe, nothing. We just stared at each other blankly, hoping that whoever it was would just go away. All of the sudden someone knocked on our bedroom window. We both looked at each other with a face that said, “Are you kidding me?” The knocking continued. Obviously they weren’t going to buy that we weren’t home.
Jairo told me to just stay put; it was probably just our friend who lives next door. He left, and I locked the door and listened as he went to see who it was. Soon enough I heard him inviting in the pastor of our church. Yeah. Our pastor! Who, by the way, knows that we are on our “honey moon”.
Jairo showed him to the table and then brought me some clothes to change into. I changed as quickly as possible, trying my best to look presentable. In Ecuador when someone comes over you always serve them something; coffee, tea, whatever you have. So I greeted the pastor and instantly went to work in the kitchen to make tea, which I served with bread and cheese, a fairly typical evening food to serve here.
It turns out there was no real reason for the visit, he was just “in the neighborhood” and wanted to stop by. On my honeymoon. He stayed for over an hour making small talk, and then went home. I was completely dumbfounded. Jairo, although annoyed, had a precedent for this sort of thing, because he’s Ecuadorian, and apparently dropping in unannounced is fairly common practice here.
So I weighed both sides in my head. My American upbringing teaches me that, although an amusing story to tell later, this was completely inappropriate, intrusive behavior. However, my Ecuadorian surroundings tell me that a good person is a person who always opens their home to anyone, anytime. And the more I think about it, the more I think that both sides have merit. In the US, I show my respect for people by making sure it’s ok if I come over before I drop by. I don’t know if they are home, sleeping, sick, busy, or maybe don’t have food in the house to feed me with. But in Ecuador I show my respect for people by welcoming them and making them feel good while they are in my house, even if it means giving them the bread I was going to eat for breakfast tomorrow or the last thing that’s in my fridge. I don’t really think one is better than the other. But I think a hybrid of the two is better than just one of them. And that’s what’s really cool about marrying someone from another culture. Maybe you fight more and you understand each other less than the average newlyweds, but you also get to have a much more complete, interesting view of the world, and the opportunity to adopt traditions and customs that are new to you which make your life more interesting.
I’ve told you about the many guests we had in our house in week one. But I left one out. A very unexpected one. We were finally alone in the house for the first time. It was nighttime, not terribly late, maybe like 7:30 or 8:00. We had already finished dinner and cleaned up the house. So, naturally, as one might assume a newlywed couple might do on their first night alone together, we decided to spend the rest of the evening together, alone, and hopefully somewhat romantically. I decided to put on something appropriate for the occasion, and Jairo hung up a blanket where a curtain should go in our room because we don’t have curtains yet, and didn’t really feel like sharing our evening with the neighborhood.
Everything was going well until we hear a knock at the door. Was that our door? We listened again. Yes, it was definitely our door. Ok. Panic. What were we going to do? I didn’t have any extra clothes, a robe, nothing. We just stared at each other blankly, hoping that whoever it was would just go away. All of the sudden someone knocked on our bedroom window. We both looked at each other with a face that said, “Are you kidding me?” The knocking continued. Obviously they weren’t going to buy that we weren’t home.
Jairo told me to just stay put; it was probably just our friend who lives next door. He left, and I locked the door and listened as he went to see who it was. Soon enough I heard him inviting in the pastor of our church. Yeah. Our pastor! Who, by the way, knows that we are on our “honey moon”.
Jairo showed him to the table and then brought me some clothes to change into. I changed as quickly as possible, trying my best to look presentable. In Ecuador when someone comes over you always serve them something; coffee, tea, whatever you have. So I greeted the pastor and instantly went to work in the kitchen to make tea, which I served with bread and cheese, a fairly typical evening food to serve here.
It turns out there was no real reason for the visit, he was just “in the neighborhood” and wanted to stop by. On my honeymoon. He stayed for over an hour making small talk, and then went home. I was completely dumbfounded. Jairo, although annoyed, had a precedent for this sort of thing, because he’s Ecuadorian, and apparently dropping in unannounced is fairly common practice here.
So I weighed both sides in my head. My American upbringing teaches me that, although an amusing story to tell later, this was completely inappropriate, intrusive behavior. However, my Ecuadorian surroundings tell me that a good person is a person who always opens their home to anyone, anytime. And the more I think about it, the more I think that both sides have merit. In the US, I show my respect for people by making sure it’s ok if I come over before I drop by. I don’t know if they are home, sleeping, sick, busy, or maybe don’t have food in the house to feed me with. But in Ecuador I show my respect for people by welcoming them and making them feel good while they are in my house, even if it means giving them the bread I was going to eat for breakfast tomorrow or the last thing that’s in my fridge. I don’t really think one is better than the other. But I think a hybrid of the two is better than just one of them. And that’s what’s really cool about marrying someone from another culture. Maybe you fight more and you understand each other less than the average newlyweds, but you also get to have a much more complete, interesting view of the world, and the opportunity to adopt traditions and customs that are new to you which make your life more interesting.
Week One: Immigration Isn't What it Used to Be
My visa was set to expire the 29th of January. Obviously, that sort of interferes with my plan to live in Ecuador for my whole life. However, the procedure was simple. You just go to immigration about 2 days before your visa expires and ask for an extension. They can give you up to three months. Or so we thought.
The 27th of January, two days before my visa is set to expire, we go to immigration, just like we’re supposed to. We get there and the man at the desk kindly informs us that they no longer do extensions, but that they might be able to help us in Foreign Affairs across town. I’m starting to feel nervous.
We go to Foreign Affairs. We read a sign on the door that has their hours listed. We’re too late, by minutes. We’ll just come back tomorrow. No big deal. Wait. What day is tomorrow? Wednesday? They’re closed on Wednesday. And Thursday my visa officially expires. I’m starting to cry.
We go back to immigration. Explain our situation. The man at the desk says as long as we get the extension on Friday before midnight it’s no big deal. Ok. Deep breath. There’s still a chance.
Wednesday I’m worried. Very worried. I just got married. I don’t want to leave my husband. What will I even do in the US? My life is here now. I want to stay. I need to stay! I’m praying a lot.
Thursday morning, very early, we get up and head across town to Foreign Affairs, in bus. It takes over an hour. Now we’re both nervous. No one’s saying much. We get in to the office, take a number. Number 77. They finally call our number and we go talk to the man at the first window. He says Ecuador no longer gives extensions to American citizens, however they do give tourist visas, which take only a week to process. ONLY a week? I need it today!
We explain what happened, the bad information we were given in immigration. He says, ok no big deal. The visa only costs $230 and the late fee is only $200. Gee, what a relief. Because the next step after my visa is applying for dual nationality, which only costs $300! Only! I start to cry. Do you blame me?
Ok, he tells us to go to the next window and talk to Jaime. He knows more about the tourist visa. He probably can’t do anything to help us, but he’s our only shot. Once again we explain the situation. He’s sorry, there’s nothing he can do. Well, up until this point I had my tears held back, but not anymore. We don’t have $730 to burn.
A change of heart. Ok, he says. You have to get the visa if you want to stay. No way around that. But the late fee may not apply if we can get the paperwork in today. We close in one hour. Here’s a list of what you need: Two visa applications filled out, two passport-size photos, a bank statement for all bank accounts, a copy of your marriage license, a copy of your passport, and a letter to the director of immigration typed on the computer in Spanish explaining why I need the visa. Good luck!
We leave the office at warp speed, determined to get everything done. It’s our only chance! Right outside the office of Foreign Affairs there’s a business that offers passport-size photos. Apparently they realized that it would be a good opportunity for cash since a lot of people who have business in Foreign Affairs need these. I love Ecuador. We get the pictures. He has a copy machine, too. Great! Let’s get the copy of my passport, too. Two things done already. This is good! But I forgot a fundamental rule of all Ecuadorian businesses. No one has change for a twenty. He wants to know if I have any smaller bills. This time I honestly don’t. He goes to get change from a neighbor. Fifteen minutes pass. No change. Ok, no big deal. I’ll borrow a pen and get the applications filled out. I have to do that anyway. Another five minutes, and we’re in business. I take my change and we run to the nearest internet café...which isn’t that close by. I get into my account in Maine and print my statement. Yes! Now to print my Illinois account. The website is down. Crap. Ok, well we’re here anyway, let’s write the letter to the director. Actually, it would be easier for Jairo to write it, right? A few minutes of trying to sound as official as possible, and we’re off. The ATMs at Banco Pichincha give you your balance when you make a transaction, and we need to take out $230. So I just use my card from Illinois to take out the money and I get my balance. Nice! Back to Foreign Affairs with fifteen minutes to spare.
Take a number and wait. We’re out of breath. I’m still nervous. We go up to Jaime’s window. He looks over the papers and finds all but one. Our marriage license. Which we left in Puyo. Five hours from here. He wants to know why he should believe that we’re married. We tell him we can give it to him tomorrow. He says to be sure that we do.
We call the pastor in Puyo who has the license and he says he’ll send it to us by bus, and we’ll get it first thing tomorrow morning. Good. Friday morning we go to the terminal to get the paper and they don’t want to give it to us. More than a half hour of talking gets us nowhere until they decide to let us talk to the manager, finally. She says it’s fine, take the paper. We get to Foreign Affairs later than we planned, but they’re still open. Jaime says he believed us and approved the paperwork yesterday. It’s all set. My passport will be ready on Tuesday. We leave much happier than when we came in.
What did I learn? Don’t ever stop having faith. So many times I’ve seen God pull through at the last possible moment. He doesn’t always rescue us at what seems to be the opportune moment, but He is always in control, and He’s on our side. For God, all things are possible.
The 27th of January, two days before my visa is set to expire, we go to immigration, just like we’re supposed to. We get there and the man at the desk kindly informs us that they no longer do extensions, but that they might be able to help us in Foreign Affairs across town. I’m starting to feel nervous.
We go to Foreign Affairs. We read a sign on the door that has their hours listed. We’re too late, by minutes. We’ll just come back tomorrow. No big deal. Wait. What day is tomorrow? Wednesday? They’re closed on Wednesday. And Thursday my visa officially expires. I’m starting to cry.
We go back to immigration. Explain our situation. The man at the desk says as long as we get the extension on Friday before midnight it’s no big deal. Ok. Deep breath. There’s still a chance.
Wednesday I’m worried. Very worried. I just got married. I don’t want to leave my husband. What will I even do in the US? My life is here now. I want to stay. I need to stay! I’m praying a lot.
Thursday morning, very early, we get up and head across town to Foreign Affairs, in bus. It takes over an hour. Now we’re both nervous. No one’s saying much. We get in to the office, take a number. Number 77. They finally call our number and we go talk to the man at the first window. He says Ecuador no longer gives extensions to American citizens, however they do give tourist visas, which take only a week to process. ONLY a week? I need it today!
We explain what happened, the bad information we were given in immigration. He says, ok no big deal. The visa only costs $230 and the late fee is only $200. Gee, what a relief. Because the next step after my visa is applying for dual nationality, which only costs $300! Only! I start to cry. Do you blame me?
Ok, he tells us to go to the next window and talk to Jaime. He knows more about the tourist visa. He probably can’t do anything to help us, but he’s our only shot. Once again we explain the situation. He’s sorry, there’s nothing he can do. Well, up until this point I had my tears held back, but not anymore. We don’t have $730 to burn.
A change of heart. Ok, he says. You have to get the visa if you want to stay. No way around that. But the late fee may not apply if we can get the paperwork in today. We close in one hour. Here’s a list of what you need: Two visa applications filled out, two passport-size photos, a bank statement for all bank accounts, a copy of your marriage license, a copy of your passport, and a letter to the director of immigration typed on the computer in Spanish explaining why I need the visa. Good luck!
We leave the office at warp speed, determined to get everything done. It’s our only chance! Right outside the office of Foreign Affairs there’s a business that offers passport-size photos. Apparently they realized that it would be a good opportunity for cash since a lot of people who have business in Foreign Affairs need these. I love Ecuador. We get the pictures. He has a copy machine, too. Great! Let’s get the copy of my passport, too. Two things done already. This is good! But I forgot a fundamental rule of all Ecuadorian businesses. No one has change for a twenty. He wants to know if I have any smaller bills. This time I honestly don’t. He goes to get change from a neighbor. Fifteen minutes pass. No change. Ok, no big deal. I’ll borrow a pen and get the applications filled out. I have to do that anyway. Another five minutes, and we’re in business. I take my change and we run to the nearest internet café...which isn’t that close by. I get into my account in Maine and print my statement. Yes! Now to print my Illinois account. The website is down. Crap. Ok, well we’re here anyway, let’s write the letter to the director. Actually, it would be easier for Jairo to write it, right? A few minutes of trying to sound as official as possible, and we’re off. The ATMs at Banco Pichincha give you your balance when you make a transaction, and we need to take out $230. So I just use my card from Illinois to take out the money and I get my balance. Nice! Back to Foreign Affairs with fifteen minutes to spare.
Take a number and wait. We’re out of breath. I’m still nervous. We go up to Jaime’s window. He looks over the papers and finds all but one. Our marriage license. Which we left in Puyo. Five hours from here. He wants to know why he should believe that we’re married. We tell him we can give it to him tomorrow. He says to be sure that we do.
We call the pastor in Puyo who has the license and he says he’ll send it to us by bus, and we’ll get it first thing tomorrow morning. Good. Friday morning we go to the terminal to get the paper and they don’t want to give it to us. More than a half hour of talking gets us nowhere until they decide to let us talk to the manager, finally. She says it’s fine, take the paper. We get to Foreign Affairs later than we planned, but they’re still open. Jaime says he believed us and approved the paperwork yesterday. It’s all set. My passport will be ready on Tuesday. We leave much happier than when we came in.
What did I learn? Don’t ever stop having faith. So many times I’ve seen God pull through at the last possible moment. He doesn’t always rescue us at what seems to be the opportune moment, but He is always in control, and He’s on our side. For God, all things are possible.
Week One: A House Full of Boxes...and Guests
It’s not how I imagined my honeymoon starting out. I was thinking beach, candles, rose petals, alone. What I got was apartment, boxes, suitcases, and definitely not alone. The first 5 days of our honeymoon, we had at least two, sometimes more, guests passing through our house at random intervals. My best friend Bre was staying with us until her trip to Guayaquil, my husband’s good friend Jonathan was around every day until his trip to Guayaquil (a different trip, although they took the bus together), and then other random friends dropped in to say hi, to talk, or to lend a hand in the moving process.
When we got to our apartment we had nothing, because the delivery people still hadn’t dropped off our stove, fridge and washing machine. We hadn’t gotten our mattress yet, and had no gas for hot water. Poor Bre! But even though it wasn’t what we had planned, it ended up being a lot of fun, and a huge blessing. I got to see Bre before she gets to work here in Ecuador, Jairo got to spend time with his friend Jonathan, and because of everyone’s help, we got everything moved in...eventually!
There’s something I’m learning about marriage, and about life in general: What you expect and what you get are really almost never the same. But the cool part is that what you get, if you just agree to go along with it, a lot of times ends up being cooler that what you expected would have been. I’m learning to be more open to new ideas and experiences, new ways of thinking, and new adventures. If my marriage has been anything up until this point, it has definitely not been boring!! And it’s better than I ever imagined. Oh...and harder, too!
It’s funny, when people find out you’re getting married, their favorite thing to say after “congrats!” is “Are you sure? Have you thought about it? Marriage is hard work!” Even people who aren’t married! I had sixteen-year-olds giving me marriage advice! At first it was funny, then annoying, and then I just ignored it. As if I’m going to say, “Oh really? It’s hard? Count me out!!”
But the sad truth is that nowadays all over the world people are saying that to their marriages. I was watching Friends with Jairo the other night, which I don’t usually find to be a source of any kind of wisdom whatsoever, but there’s a part where Chandler and Monica, after recently starting dating, have their first fight. Chandler goes to Monica’s apartment and apologizes, and then says, “So...I guess it’s over then.” Monica laughs and says, “We don’t have to break up just because we had a fight. We’ll just work through it! Welcome to an adult relationship!” It’s supposed to be a funny line, but to me it was sad, because so many people never actually start having an “adult relationship” in the sense that they’re in it for the long-haul, and not just while it’s fun.
Yes, marriage is hard. And I’ve gathered that after a few days! But it’s also fun, interesting, beautiful, and totally worth it. I meant it when I said it: Till death do us part.
When we got to our apartment we had nothing, because the delivery people still hadn’t dropped off our stove, fridge and washing machine. We hadn’t gotten our mattress yet, and had no gas for hot water. Poor Bre! But even though it wasn’t what we had planned, it ended up being a lot of fun, and a huge blessing. I got to see Bre before she gets to work here in Ecuador, Jairo got to spend time with his friend Jonathan, and because of everyone’s help, we got everything moved in...eventually!
There’s something I’m learning about marriage, and about life in general: What you expect and what you get are really almost never the same. But the cool part is that what you get, if you just agree to go along with it, a lot of times ends up being cooler that what you expected would have been. I’m learning to be more open to new ideas and experiences, new ways of thinking, and new adventures. If my marriage has been anything up until this point, it has definitely not been boring!! And it’s better than I ever imagined. Oh...and harder, too!
It’s funny, when people find out you’re getting married, their favorite thing to say after “congrats!” is “Are you sure? Have you thought about it? Marriage is hard work!” Even people who aren’t married! I had sixteen-year-olds giving me marriage advice! At first it was funny, then annoying, and then I just ignored it. As if I’m going to say, “Oh really? It’s hard? Count me out!!”
But the sad truth is that nowadays all over the world people are saying that to their marriages. I was watching Friends with Jairo the other night, which I don’t usually find to be a source of any kind of wisdom whatsoever, but there’s a part where Chandler and Monica, after recently starting dating, have their first fight. Chandler goes to Monica’s apartment and apologizes, and then says, “So...I guess it’s over then.” Monica laughs and says, “We don’t have to break up just because we had a fight. We’ll just work through it! Welcome to an adult relationship!” It’s supposed to be a funny line, but to me it was sad, because so many people never actually start having an “adult relationship” in the sense that they’re in it for the long-haul, and not just while it’s fun.
Yes, marriage is hard. And I’ve gathered that after a few days! But it’s also fun, interesting, beautiful, and totally worth it. I meant it when I said it: Till death do us part.
Wedding Day, Wedding Night
It’s the day every young girl dreams about; the dress, the shoes, the flowers, the bridesmaids, and most importantly, the groom. So here are some details, for starters.
My dress, a blessing from God, was a total accident. Jairo and I were walking in downtown Quito (Ecuador) on non-wedding business when it started to rain. We ducked into the first store we found, and there was my wedding dress, complete with veil, garter, bouquet, and flower girl basket at a price you wouldn’t believe if I told you. The owner of the store told me I couldn’t try it on unless I was for sure going to buy it, company policy. So, in a spur-of-the-moment decision, we bought it, before I even tried it on. I was so nervous going into the dressing room, but when I saw it in the mirror, I was hooked. Good thing, too!
The shoes I already had bought before I even saw my dress or new it existed. I found them in a market in Ambato (also Ecuador) and I loved them. White, embroidered, low heel (which is perfect for weak-ankled, accident-prone me) and very low price. We got Jairo’s shoes on the same day, the first pair of dress shoes he has ever liked. Before the wedding he was begging me to let him wear them to church. (Of course I said no!)
I had two bouquets, one made of fabric flowers which was beautiful, and which I did not use in the wedding but rather saved since I tossed my real bouquet, which was made of tons of white roses and cost me (get this) $10. That’s with the rose petals for the flower girl included. I love Ecuador. The flower girl, Jairo’s 8-year-old niece, ended up with it, although I’m not sure how because she didn’t catch it. She was pretty excited about it though!
As far as bridesmaids go, I had eight. Yeah. My sister was my matron of honor, but from afar because she couldn’t make it to Ecuador, so my best friend Bre had place number one as the maid of honor. Here in Ecuador the tradition is that the maid of honor wears a red dress, but my wedding colors were green and white, and I was not into having a Christmas-colored wedding, so she wore a green dress, too, but carried a bouquet of red flowers in honor of the tradition. After Bre came Jairo’s sister Mirian, then two married friends of mine, Eliza and Viviana (Viviana also happens to be my new neighbor). Then came three girls from our church, Doris, Elena (who never showed up!!), and Sara. Finally was Jairo’s older niece Nathalia, who is 13, and then my flower girl, Jairo’s other niece Genesis, who is 8.
So, all of the bridesmaids, my mom and I got ready in the basement of the church. We arrived about two hours before the wedding and got to work right away on hair and makeup. Bre was in charge of my hair, which I wore down with wavy curls, and I did my makeup, which I did pretty much normally. I wanted to still look like me! Bre, my mom, and Jairo’s mom helped my put my dress on, which had a lace-up corset in the back, and made me slightly woozy. My mom bought me a gorgeous tiara to wear with my veil which was my something new, a ribbon from my grandpa’s boutonniere from his wedding was my something old which my mom wove into my bouquet, my grandma’s handkerchief from her wedding was my something borrowed, which we wrapped around the base of my bouquet, and my garter was blue. So, all fixed up and with all the trimmings of a bride, I waited on the stairs outside for my turn to enter the church with my dad.
It’s such an interesting thing to be the bride after having seen so many friends and family members get married. It seems so glamorous, so magical. But when your day actually arrives, the only really magical moment is when the one you’re going to spend the rest of your life with promises you “till death” and you realize maybe for the first time the magnitude of the moment and what it is you are doing. Up until that moment, it is neither magical nor glamorous! It’s stressful, nerve-wracking, worrisome, emotional and sometimes down-right embarrassing!
For example, as far as things which are neither magical nor glamorous go, I’ll give you an example. Two days before the wedding, Jairo and I, our parents, and Bre all go to Misahualli, about 2 hours away from Puyo, to swim in the river and see the monkeys. When we were heading home I noticed I had a few bug bites on my leg but paid no attention. The next day when I woke up, one day before the wedding, my knee was swollen to twice its size. One day before the wedding happened to be the day of our civil ceremony (in Ecuador you have to do both), for which I had a white, knee-length dress, so you can imagine how attractive I felt walking around like that.
By late afternoon it was hard to move my leg, but the rehearsal was at 7pm. I started to develop a high fever and pain all through my body, so before the rehearsal I went with Bre, my parents, and Jairo’s mom to the hospital. They prescribed me three medicines, one of which was a shot I had to have given to me in the pharmacy. So while everyone else was getting ready to rehearse for the wedding, Jairo took me to the pharmacy where they gave me a shot of 500ccs of hydrocortisone in my butt. And you know what? It hurt like crazy! I showed up to my rehearsal crying with a popsicle strapped to my pants. It’s just how every girl imagines her rehearsal going, right? By the next day my knee wasn’t too swollen, but still painful, and on top of that my butt hurt. Factor in that my mom, my mother-in-law, and all my bridesmaids have now all seen me nearly naked, in only an adhesive bra and seamless panties, and you have probably figured out that it’s not actually as glamorous as it seems.
My not-so-glamorous day was followed by an equally not-so-glamorous night. After spending all day, from early morning hours until late at night, getting ready for the wedding, having the wedding, and then having the reception, plus having a swollen, ugly, painful knee and a sore butt, it doesn’t exactly get you super hyped for the wedding night. Jairo and I were so exhausted and I was so miserable, we just went to sleep! It was actually a relief, because there is so much pressure put on that one night, that looking back I’m glad we got to the wedding night activities in our own time, when we both actually wanted to, and not just because everyone says we should. Going through the motions when we were both so incredibly exhausted would have been such a letdown, whereas waiting until we recovered and letting it be natural was much more fun and rewarding. Take that as a tip, brides-to-be!!
Everything said and done, looking back on my wedding now, I don’t remember that much to be honest. Jairo doesn’t either! Everything moves at the speed of light on your wedding day, so if you’re a bride to be, make sure everyone takes pictures of everything!! I remember the most important things, though. I remember my dad walking me down the aisle and giving me away in Spanish that he learned the day before! I remember how my best friend Bre was trying not to cry from the moment we woke up and how she kept telling me how beautiful I was! Love you Bre! I remember walking into the church and seeing Jairo and thinking how insanely blessed I am. I remember Bre singing El Shaddai with Jairo’s brother Patricio in honor of my parents. I remember how we forgot to unhook my train until half way through the ceremony! I remember how happy everyone was for us. I remember dancing with my husband, who learned to waltz just for me. I remember dancing with my dad, too. I remember my dad praying for us. I remember throwing my bouquet, the garter (which I now miss...I think Jairo is going to buy me a new one!!), and cutting the cake. I remember almost passing out during pictures because it was so hot and I was in a corset! But most of all I remember the promises I made to my husband, and the promises he made to me, and I thank God every day for blessing me and letting me spend my whole life with my best friend.
My dress, a blessing from God, was a total accident. Jairo and I were walking in downtown Quito (Ecuador) on non-wedding business when it started to rain. We ducked into the first store we found, and there was my wedding dress, complete with veil, garter, bouquet, and flower girl basket at a price you wouldn’t believe if I told you. The owner of the store told me I couldn’t try it on unless I was for sure going to buy it, company policy. So, in a spur-of-the-moment decision, we bought it, before I even tried it on. I was so nervous going into the dressing room, but when I saw it in the mirror, I was hooked. Good thing, too!
The shoes I already had bought before I even saw my dress or new it existed. I found them in a market in Ambato (also Ecuador) and I loved them. White, embroidered, low heel (which is perfect for weak-ankled, accident-prone me) and very low price. We got Jairo’s shoes on the same day, the first pair of dress shoes he has ever liked. Before the wedding he was begging me to let him wear them to church. (Of course I said no!)
I had two bouquets, one made of fabric flowers which was beautiful, and which I did not use in the wedding but rather saved since I tossed my real bouquet, which was made of tons of white roses and cost me (get this) $10. That’s with the rose petals for the flower girl included. I love Ecuador. The flower girl, Jairo’s 8-year-old niece, ended up with it, although I’m not sure how because she didn’t catch it. She was pretty excited about it though!
As far as bridesmaids go, I had eight. Yeah. My sister was my matron of honor, but from afar because she couldn’t make it to Ecuador, so my best friend Bre had place number one as the maid of honor. Here in Ecuador the tradition is that the maid of honor wears a red dress, but my wedding colors were green and white, and I was not into having a Christmas-colored wedding, so she wore a green dress, too, but carried a bouquet of red flowers in honor of the tradition. After Bre came Jairo’s sister Mirian, then two married friends of mine, Eliza and Viviana (Viviana also happens to be my new neighbor). Then came three girls from our church, Doris, Elena (who never showed up!!), and Sara. Finally was Jairo’s older niece Nathalia, who is 13, and then my flower girl, Jairo’s other niece Genesis, who is 8.
So, all of the bridesmaids, my mom and I got ready in the basement of the church. We arrived about two hours before the wedding and got to work right away on hair and makeup. Bre was in charge of my hair, which I wore down with wavy curls, and I did my makeup, which I did pretty much normally. I wanted to still look like me! Bre, my mom, and Jairo’s mom helped my put my dress on, which had a lace-up corset in the back, and made me slightly woozy. My mom bought me a gorgeous tiara to wear with my veil which was my something new, a ribbon from my grandpa’s boutonniere from his wedding was my something old which my mom wove into my bouquet, my grandma’s handkerchief from her wedding was my something borrowed, which we wrapped around the base of my bouquet, and my garter was blue. So, all fixed up and with all the trimmings of a bride, I waited on the stairs outside for my turn to enter the church with my dad.
It’s such an interesting thing to be the bride after having seen so many friends and family members get married. It seems so glamorous, so magical. But when your day actually arrives, the only really magical moment is when the one you’re going to spend the rest of your life with promises you “till death” and you realize maybe for the first time the magnitude of the moment and what it is you are doing. Up until that moment, it is neither magical nor glamorous! It’s stressful, nerve-wracking, worrisome, emotional and sometimes down-right embarrassing!
For example, as far as things which are neither magical nor glamorous go, I’ll give you an example. Two days before the wedding, Jairo and I, our parents, and Bre all go to Misahualli, about 2 hours away from Puyo, to swim in the river and see the monkeys. When we were heading home I noticed I had a few bug bites on my leg but paid no attention. The next day when I woke up, one day before the wedding, my knee was swollen to twice its size. One day before the wedding happened to be the day of our civil ceremony (in Ecuador you have to do both), for which I had a white, knee-length dress, so you can imagine how attractive I felt walking around like that.
By late afternoon it was hard to move my leg, but the rehearsal was at 7pm. I started to develop a high fever and pain all through my body, so before the rehearsal I went with Bre, my parents, and Jairo’s mom to the hospital. They prescribed me three medicines, one of which was a shot I had to have given to me in the pharmacy. So while everyone else was getting ready to rehearse for the wedding, Jairo took me to the pharmacy where they gave me a shot of 500ccs of hydrocortisone in my butt. And you know what? It hurt like crazy! I showed up to my rehearsal crying with a popsicle strapped to my pants. It’s just how every girl imagines her rehearsal going, right? By the next day my knee wasn’t too swollen, but still painful, and on top of that my butt hurt. Factor in that my mom, my mother-in-law, and all my bridesmaids have now all seen me nearly naked, in only an adhesive bra and seamless panties, and you have probably figured out that it’s not actually as glamorous as it seems.
My not-so-glamorous day was followed by an equally not-so-glamorous night. After spending all day, from early morning hours until late at night, getting ready for the wedding, having the wedding, and then having the reception, plus having a swollen, ugly, painful knee and a sore butt, it doesn’t exactly get you super hyped for the wedding night. Jairo and I were so exhausted and I was so miserable, we just went to sleep! It was actually a relief, because there is so much pressure put on that one night, that looking back I’m glad we got to the wedding night activities in our own time, when we both actually wanted to, and not just because everyone says we should. Going through the motions when we were both so incredibly exhausted would have been such a letdown, whereas waiting until we recovered and letting it be natural was much more fun and rewarding. Take that as a tip, brides-to-be!!
Everything said and done, looking back on my wedding now, I don’t remember that much to be honest. Jairo doesn’t either! Everything moves at the speed of light on your wedding day, so if you’re a bride to be, make sure everyone takes pictures of everything!! I remember the most important things, though. I remember my dad walking me down the aisle and giving me away in Spanish that he learned the day before! I remember how my best friend Bre was trying not to cry from the moment we woke up and how she kept telling me how beautiful I was! Love you Bre! I remember walking into the church and seeing Jairo and thinking how insanely blessed I am. I remember Bre singing El Shaddai with Jairo’s brother Patricio in honor of my parents. I remember how we forgot to unhook my train until half way through the ceremony! I remember how happy everyone was for us. I remember dancing with my husband, who learned to waltz just for me. I remember dancing with my dad, too. I remember my dad praying for us. I remember throwing my bouquet, the garter (which I now miss...I think Jairo is going to buy me a new one!!), and cutting the cake. I remember almost passing out during pictures because it was so hot and I was in a corset! But most of all I remember the promises I made to my husband, and the promises he made to me, and I thank God every day for blessing me and letting me spend my whole life with my best friend.
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