Were they or weren't they?

As we all settled in for the usual intonation of the vows, the celebrant took centre stage. Somebody should have coached her first.

"We are gathered here today to witness the joining in matrimony of a man and a woman, Santina and Moira". At this juncture, Mira intervened. "His name is Santiago. Mine is Mira," she explained. The celebrant did not skip a beat. She sniffed, raised her nose in the air and continued.

"Santina, do you take Mira to be your wedded wife?" she asked, with no trace of having heard Mira. Santi, couldn't resist correcting her. "My name is Santiago," he replied.

The celebrant, pressed her lips together, raised her eyebrows, drew her breath in sharply and repeated the question, with no alteration to Santi's new monniker.

"I do", he replied, a huge smile breaking out through the solemnity of the occasion.

"In sickness and in death, for better and for worse, until death do you part?", the celebrant asked Santi. With his wide smile, each perfectly white tooth gleaming, Santi repeated after her, "In sickness and in death, for better and for worse, until do us part, I, Santiago Ramirez, take you Mira Schauble as my wife."

After a huge inhalation of breath, the celebrant turned to Mira, and repeated the question. Mira's smile escaped being cherubic due to the evil gleam in her eye, as she rejoined "I, Mira Schauble, take you, Santiago Ramirez, as my wedded husband, in sickness and in detah, for better or for worse, til death do us part."

Her triumphant expression was substituted almost immediately by one of uncontrollable mirth.

" Santina and Moira, I now declare you married, under the laws of Australia", said the celebrant, getting the last word in. "Please approach and sign the register".

As Santi and Mira sat down to scratch their signatures on every bit of paperwork the Federal Government and the city of Brisbane required of them, I nudged the closest person to me.
"Let's hope the register has their names spelt correctly, otherwise they won't be married legally", I joked. The beautiful, dark skinned brunette tried to contain her laughter, as the celebrant shot me a dirty look.

In pursuit of the perfect wedding, part II

The breeze blowing in from the river cooled us down from the intense sun of the afternoon. Santi paced up and down the rotunda at the little peninsula overlooking the Port of Brisbane, joking with his “brother”, his oldest friend who had just flown in from Mexico and with his father, a friendly but reserved older man in a light coloured suit. Santi’s powerful shoulders filled out his white tux, his tanned olive skin contrasting with the ivory tones of the jacket. His gleaming teeth bared in a wide smile, he hugged everybody in sight.

Santi wielded a handycam as if he’d been born with it attached to his hand. He filmed conversations, the wind blowing in the trees and even blades of grass as they wilted in the heat. Finally, at the top of the hill next to Newstead house, a golden skirt appeared. Santi strode over to the rotunda. He re-arranged his parents and the chairs, taking his place to wait for Mira.

Her beautiful blonde tresses piled on top of her head, Mira slowly descended the hill, the very picture of happiness. Her gold satin dress accentuated her curves, her elegant walk enhanced by the swishing of her hooped dress. Looking at her did your heart good, even though you knew she was secretly pining for a cigarette.

Her best friend played the clarinet from a stage set next to the rotunda, accompanying her gait. As she reached the rotunda, Santi’s face glowed brighter with every step she took.
Once she had reached his side, Mira’s father released her arm and placed it on Santi’s proferred elbow. The marriage celebrant approached and the comedy of errors began.

In pursuit of the perfect wedding

I love weddings. Everybody else’s. Unlike other women, I’ve never really had the white wedding and princess fantasies. Instead of dreaming of being rescued by a gallant, dashing, hero, I often wanted to be the one doing the rescuing. So much more fun. This whole waiting around for the guy to get off his arse, pull up his socks and figure out what to do is not my thing. Back to the weddings, though.

The reason I like them is not because of the dress, or the bridesmaids, or any of that pap. It’s the insight you gain of that couple and the cultures they represent, especially from their guests and relatives. At this point in time, I am planning to go to a wedding in India. From what I’ve heard, they’re huge. Massive undertakings, full of colour, music, dance and food. Expectations run high. Hope they aren’t dashed to the ground.

Until now, the best wedding I’ve been to is also one of the most modest and least ostentatious ones I’ve ever seen. I am friends with both the groom and the bride and this certainly makes a huge difference. Santi and Mira managed to grasp the essence of a fun wedding. Not many people do. Lesser mortals wish to impress their relatives or fulfil some pie in the sky cockamamie fantasy, which they have imbibed from movies and novels.

Making a concession to Santi’s relatives, who weren’t all able to come to Australia from Mexico, they had two weddings. One was in Brisbane and one in Mexico City. I’m still smarting over not being able to go to the one in Mexico. Having a lean year means no travelling. Alas, we’ll all have to be content with the little bit of Mexican flourish and spice that Santi imbued into the Brisbane reception.

Instead of boring everyone stiff with breathless descriptions of the scenery and the bride’s dress and beauty, I will upload a few pictures. It took place at Newstead Park, overlooking the river and managed to keep the entire ceremony to under twenty minutes. The guests and the bride took longer to arrive, than it took for Santi and Mira to tie the knot.

The best part was waiting for Mira to make her entrance. This gave all her guests a chance to mingle and get to know each other.

The latest in non-fiction

Patricia is attempting once more to collect her random works into a coherent format. This blog might well be the result of that process. Enjoy.