Weekend 2 B: You Are Ready to Get Married

We headed home after a day of climbing and nature-loving, ready for a nice, long shower and an even nicer, longer nap. Instead, we received another surprise: Conchita's sister was getting married in the evening, explained Noe. Would we like to see a Mexican wedding?

"¡Sí, claro que sí!" Mexican or otherwise, the closest I have ever been to a wedding was flipping through Modern Bride. Scenes from Wedding Crashers, Runaway Bride and My Big Fat Greek Wedding flashed through my mind. What would the dress be like? The music? The CAKE? How many times have I passed by store windows, gazing at the elaborate wedding cakes, with all their layers, and roses, and braids of cream. My favorite part of Rich Bride, Poor Bride is the cake selection. And I would get to try it that night!

We agreed to meet up at Kelsey's house at 7:30 (translation from Mexican: 9:00), and then hailed a cab to the wedding hall, an imposing structure titled The ALAMO. Little girls in elaborate white dresses, women in tight blue jeans and men suited all out in ranchero gear (cowboy hats and boots) mingled outside. We entered. And my jaw almost dropped.

We walked into the biggest room I have ever been in. The ceilings alone seemed at least 3 stories high. What seemed like a 1000 people sat in metal chairs, at metal tables with white table cloths, drinking soda and eating arroz con pollo. A bride and a groom danced in the center. The DJ - also in complete cowboy gear - stood on stage and read out a long list of names. Every time he read a new pair of names, another couple would dance with the newlyweds. This went on for many many minutes. Just when I thought it was over, another bride and groom took their place. It turned out that we were guests not at one, but at two simultaneous wedding receptions.

Just as I got comfortable with my plate of arroz con pollo (no other selections), Conchita waved Kelsey and me over, and we were informed that the wedding games were starting. This game, we were told, was for the women. Both brides were hoisted up on chairs, while the grooms held their trains. Ah! I thought. They are going to throw the bouquet! I've seen this in movies. Confident, I took my place next to the other girls.

The next thing I knew, the 10-year-old in front of me grabbed my hand, and pulled me forward. We were not catching anything but our breath! We ran under the trains, across the hall, around the guests, and back in. I am pretty sure we were supposed to be following the rhythm of the song playing, but all I could concentrate on was my balance. I hope I did not hurt the wrists of my fellow runees.

The tradition, called the Vibora de La Mar, was then repeated with the men. This time, a participant did fall - but, as I found out later, this was expected. The goal of the male game is to knock the groom off the chair.

Afterwards, the brides did throw bouquets, and then the dancing started. I watched as couples stepped to the rhythms of salsa, bachata, and musica durangesa. Meanwhile, little boys ran around the grandiose space, playing soccer with empty Coke bottles. The brides walked around back and forth, their skirts in their hands, checking on this and that. Apparently, Mexican weddings are for the guests' enjoyment.

After I don't know how many dances, I noticed a crowd of children forming behind the table with the cakes. I had been sneeking surreptitious glances at the cake all night, pleased to see that unlike everything else, the cake was exactly how I imagined it. Well, the cakes. There were at least four. Delight filled me as we took our place on line, and then sank our teeth into the spongy sweet goodness. I could go home happy now.

I spent Sunday cleaning the apartment and cooking. Kelsey and Noe came over for dinner. I prepared salad as an appetizer, and we had tortillas, frijoles and guacamole for the main course, finishing off the meal with a fruit and nut platter. (Why is it that I can't stop talking about food?)"Estas lista para casarte," Noe informed me, an expression to complement one's cooking which directly translates into, You're ready to get married. Kelsey and I looked at each other. Probably, but probably not in Mexico.