3-inch heels and Catholic weddings don’t mix Pt. 1

Hello my lovelies!

I’m back from my quick trip to the Motherland and getting my cousin married off. Five days in Colombia is just not enough!  This was my first Colombian wedding , so I was  excited to see how it was different  while scared I would do something wrong at the wedding, like say, have lighting strike as I entered the church.

My trip got off to a rocky start. I took the Metro to DCA, and while switching trains I managed to get my suitcase stuck on the escalator, nearly fall down same escalator when the suitcase got stuck, and then elbowed a nurse in the neck when I finally got off the escalator.  All in less that 5 minutes.

At the airport there was some mixup w. my reservation thank to the idiot travel agent that MommaPithy uses for all our travel.  She misspelled my last name. My last name has 8 letters, 2 of which are vowels and it’s not an uncommon last name either.  But somehow that fucktard left out a vowel which makes electronic check-in extremely difficult.

Once I got to Colombia (after two rounds of applause once the plane touched down) , it was a flurry of activities, cousins, cakes, having a cousin and his gf break up b/c of a cake (looooong story short: gf made a display cake for the wedding –they have 2 cakes, one for eating and a Styrofoam one for pics– and it was fugly so we politely said no thanks, gf and cousin fought about the cake, and now my cousin is single)  and  errands.  Two nights before the wedding, La Novia (my cousin, the Bride) and I went out for the Cena de Despedidas de Soltera (Bachlorette party but waaaaaay tamer) with some of her friends. We were spending the night at the Groom’s house w/ his family in Medellin since La Novia lives some 45 mins away in a mountainside finca (country house). That night  the Groom had arranged for a traditional Serenata de Mariachis for his bride. We were all in on it, except for the Bride, so at 1 am a 12-piece band snuck into the house and started playing. Even if you know it’s coming, trumpets at that hour still scare you shitless.

Big hats, fancy suits, 4 or 5 violinists, an accordion, 2 trumpet players, a singer w/ an amp, 2 guitars…it was a full house and they sounded amazing.

All of the Groom’s family joined us downstairs to listen, along w/ the  couple’s  friends from their bachelor/bachelorette parties.  The band played love songs for 2 hours, (I could only imagine how well that would play in the States, but in Colombia the neighbors never complained. Pretty sure some of them joined us) while tequila and aguardiente was passed around. It was perfect. Should I EVER change my mind regarding marriage,   future Mr.Pithy take note: I will expect a traditional serenata. Just clear it w/ the neighbors first.

On the wedding day, the bridal party (me, Momma of the Bride,(MoB) the Bride, Brother of the Bride (BoB) and 2 cousins and a boyfriend) woke up at 5.30 am for our respective appointments. After a breakfast that amounted to a slice and a half of bread w/ sour cream (it’s more like sour cream and cream cheese had an illicit affair and produced this spread thing) and a hot dog (their version of sausage links) and a quick gulp of juice we were down the mountain. I didn’t eat again until 5. 30 PM.

After the makeup, the Texas pageant updo and the sexy red dress, I looked pretty much unrecognizable.  But a really hot mama kind of unrecognizable.  Simply put, I looked awesome. But nowhere near as awesome as the Bride. She was stunning and never showed the 20 kinds of nervous that she kept telling us she was.

I slapped on my brand new 3-in strappy heels and headed to the church w/ MoB, trying to remember which part of the protocol I was supposed to follow for the church. See, in Colombia, the guests wait outside the church for the bride. The Groom and his mother enter first and take their place at the altar. The Bride and her father (or in this case her Brother since the dad died when they were little) and ringbearer  drive up. There was no flower girl b.c they couldn’t find one. After the Bride entered, the MoB and Father of the Groom enter together. And then it got confusing.

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~ by pithycomments on August 5, 2009.

2 Responses to “3-inch heels and Catholic weddings don’t mix Pt. 1”

  1. I love hearing a mariachi band. What a great idea!

    It’s been a while since I’ve heard one. When I was in college we used to go to a Mexican restaurant that had mariachis that would play at your table. Didn’t realize how much I had missed it until now.

  2. i want to go to a colombian wedding now!

    I’ve got 2 single cousins left. I’ll keep you updated!

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