October 15, 2015

As I type this post, I'm looking down at my left hand wondering what the devil is that thing on my 4th finger. I've been married almost a week now, and I still don't believe it. 

Getting married in Peru is no joke. If I've already explained the process to you, feel free to skip this paragraph. It involves getting a notarized photocopy of your passport, apostille-certified copies of your birth certificate and document of single status (more on this later), a blood test and chest x-ray, putting an announcement in the newspaper for a week, submitting a copy of an electric or water bill, filling out a document wherein I declare that I'm staying in the municipality where the marriage will take place, and finding two witnesses who aren't related to you. Oh, and you need copies of their ID as well. It's intense. About a month or so before I came to Peru, I ordered a copy of my birth certificate (Peru only accepts documents that are fresh off the press: 90 days or less) and a document stating I'm single. Basically, the WA state Department of Health did a record search for a marriage for me from 1992 (the year I turned 18) to the present day. They printed out the page that said "record not found" and that was it. Those two documents were sent to the WA Secretary of State who stapled a fancy piece of paper that said "apostille" on it, proving that the documents were legal and not forgeries. Saul explained that forgeries are common in Peru, hence the ridiculous amount of notarizing and apostilling that had to happen before we could get married. All of this paper work and to-ing and fro-ing cost us between $500-$600. But hey. The alternative was to get Saul a visa to come to the US (home of the drive-thru marriage chapel), but who knows how long that would have taken? It had to go down this way.

The night before our wedding, we went to the airport to pick up Saul's mom and son. His son, Diego Rodrigo, is absolutely adorable. When he saw us, he yelled "Randi!" and came running to me, blowing right past his father. He's so affectionate, always hugging me and telling me he loves me. I have only spent one day with him, and I'm sure he has his typical 8 year-old moments, but so far he's the world's best stepson. Saul's mom is also pretty incredible herself. The night she arrived, she gave me a big, long talk in which she told me that I'm her daughter now and that she's going to take very good care of me. I bawled. She is so loving and over-the-top attentive. She cooked dinner for us the night she arrived (fried pork and fried plantains--delicious!). She gave me an enormous plate overflowing with food, and she gave Saul a little salad plate. Too funny. 

The next day I woke up and went to a hair salon. I had an 8:30 appointment, and I arrived right on time. The salon owners, however, showed up at 9:30. Luckily there was a cleaning lady there who let me in, so I didn't have to stand around outside. Obnoxious. Anyway, the stylist finally arrived and got started. I showed her a picture of what I had in mind--it turned out nothing like the photo, but it was still acceptable. It still amazes me how little I cared about the details of my wedding day. My manicure didn't turn out the way I was hoping. Oh well. My hair wasn't quite right. Oh well. I didn't pick out my wedding cake, decorations, or wedding ring. Oh well. All of that got stripped away, and all I cared about was Saul. My only thought was what a privilege it was to become his wife. So what if my hair didn't turn out exactly like the photo? At least I had hair that day. I let go of my typical control-freak ways and just enjoyed the day, enjoyed what was instead of what wasn't. I sure hope I can tap into that zen in the future...

 So after the hair salon, I went back home and finished getting ready. The guests then started to arrive, most of whom I hadn't met yet. Saul was still getting ready, so I had to play hostess to all of these strangers. So awkward! They were very kind to me, though, so I got through it. At 1pm the justice of the peace guy showed up--a 70-ish year-old man who got right down to business. Saul and I had met with him several times prior to submit our paperwork and all that, so we knew him to be a pretty soft-spoken elderly gentleman. I almost burst out laughing because when he opened his mouth to begin the marriage ceremony, he practically blew everyone's hair back. The man was straight-up shouting at us. I'll upload the video at the end of this post. While you watch the video, you will also hear the melodious strains of a skill saw coming from next door. The neighbors are doing some repairs to their home. Saul's aunt asked them the day before if they could take a break between 1-2pm and they said sure. I guess they forgot, or maybe they misunderstood and thought she was asking for MORE skill saw on the big day, because it felt like every power tool in Peru was going full force next door. 

Aaaanyway, after the ceremony we had a big lunch that Saul's mom had prepared. It's called escabeche and it's delicious! I think it's typically a fish dish, but we had chicken. It's marinated in a spicy sauce, then cooked in a pot with onions and spices. It was fabulous. We drank chicha morada, one of my favorite things on earth. I remember it from my Bolivia days. You boil purple corn on the cob (which you can find at most Latin American markets), pineapple rinds, cinnamon, clove, and sugar. I absolutely love it. After lunch, we went to the LDS temple for our sealing. (Peru doesn't recognize religious ceremonies as legally binding, so we had to get married civilly first.) 

And this is where my blood starts to boil a bit. I hate to have bad feelings in the temple, but this was the one part of my day where I really wanted to flip out. Saul and I had gone to the temple a couple of days earlier, and I asked one of the lady temple workers about my wedding dress. In the United States, you can wear any white dress you want, as long as it covers your arms and isn't too low-cut. If you've got short sleeves, they give you a little cover-up thing to wear while you're in the temple and it's all good. So I told the lady, "My wedding dress has short sleeves. Do you have a cover-up I can wear on that day?" She told me that I wasn't allowed to wear my wedding dress for the civil ceremony, that they had temple dresses I could wear instead. "OK, I have my own dress that I usually wear when I come to the temple that covers everything. Can I wear that?" "Sure," she said. OK, great. So I arrive at the temple on my wedding day, and I'm told that no, I can't wear my regular temple dress. I have to rent one from them, and that will be $2, please. WHAT? Why can't I wear my temple dress? It's got long sleeves, a high neckline... I wore it here two days ago and nobody had a problem with it! Nope, I have to rent one of THEIR dresses because it's "fancier." Are you freaking kidding me? Well, I didn't have any money on me (why would I?) and neither did Saul's mom. So she had to go outside and bum $2 off of one of the wedding guests in the waiting room. So annoying. I am still fuming at the memory. 

Anyway, I got changed into my "fancy" dress and met Saul in another waiting room in the temple. A member of the temple presidency came and spoke to us and gave us three pieces of advice. First, love each other a lot and be affectionate. Let our kids see us holding hands and saying "I love you" as much as possible. Second, watch out for pride. He said that pride is a very difficult house guest to get rid of. Once we invite him in, he dines with us, sleeps with us, basically goes everywhere with us... I teared up a bit at this advice, because I know this will be one of my biggest challenges in marriage. I'm ridiculously prideful. And the third thing... I can't remember. Crap. 

Then it was time for our sealing. There were only two people at our sealing: Saul's mom and a nice lady we had met at church a few weeks earlier. The sealer had to go scrounge up a couple of witnesses for us. I, of course, cried the whole time. Saul was pretty calm until about halfway through the sealing ceremony, then you could see the emotion on his face. It was very sweet. After the sealing, I changed in to my illicit wedding dress and waited for Saul to emerge. (My sweet husband takes his time getting ready. I'm always waiting for that dude.) We went outside, took a few photos, and then it was time to go home and get ready to leave for our honeymoon. The whole day went by so quickly. I wanted to slow things down so that I could enjoy each moment, but there was just no way. It totally blew past us. 

But it happened. There is a golden ring on my finger (not gold because we can't yet afford it...) and we are married. I was telling Saul earlier today that it feels weird to be married, probably because we're still strangers, really. One day he will be the person who knows me better than anyone else on earth, but that day is not today. We still have so much to learn about each other. Nothing about our relationship has been typical or normal, though, so we are just rolling with it. 

And now for your viewing pleasure, our extremely non-professional wedding video! 

Umm... as it turns out, the video is too long to post here. Go check it out on Facebook instead!

Bienvenidos a Peru! (That Means "Holy Crap, I'm in Peru" in Spanish.)

First of all, a huge thank you to everyone who has sent me messages these last few weeks. I wish I could respond individually, since all of your questions are so unique—some of you want to know about our first kiss, others would rather not hear about it at all and just want to know about the strange things I’ve eaten so far. (Answer to the first question: great. The second: nothing strange yet, but Saul says his mom cooks a mean chicken foot soup—I had that on my mission once and was able to slip my native companion my chicken foot when nobody was looking. I don’t think I’ll be able to pull that off this time. Here’s hoping my palate has matured in the last 18 years.)

Sooo, I guess I’ll just write it all and you can skim through it until you find the parts you’re interested in. Ready? Off we go!

My Peruvian love story begins with a tense conversation with the lady at the Copa Airlines ticket counter in Boston. I check in, and she notices that I have a one-way ticket. We then have the following exchange:

Disgruntled Copa Airlines Worker: Do you live in Peru?

Me: No, but I will soon. I’m going there to marry a Peruvian.

DCAW: Do you have a visa, or some marriage document legalized by the Peruvian consulate?

Me: My fiancee has those documents with him in Peru. I’m entering the country as a tourist.

DCAW: Then I can’t let you on the plane without a return ticket, or a ticket to somewhere else outside of Peru. They want to know that you’re not going to stay indefinitely.

Me: Huh?

DCAW: (looking at me like I’m an idiot) To conform with Peruvian immigration requirements, you have to have a return ticket. I can book that for you now, if you’d like.

Me: Umm… ok. Find me the cheapest ticket you can.

DCAW: Where would you like to go?

Me: I don’t care! How about La Paz, Bolivia? (Thinking that it’s pretty close and it’s a ticket I might actually use.)

DCAW: I found one on March 2^nd for $590.

Me: (knowing that I’m getting ripped off, but anxious to get on the plane and keenly aware of the huge line of weary travelers behind me) What a bargain. I’ll take it.

I mean, I get it. I don’t get to stay here indefinitely. But why does Copa Airlines care? Just let me on the damn plane and let immigration worry about my exit strategy. (Immigration didn’t give a rip, by the way. They asked me two questions: What is the reason for your trip, and how long do you plan to stay? That was it. Welcome to Peru.) This story has a somewhat happy ending, though. Saul’s sister works for a travel agency, and she did some investigating. I can get reimbursed, minus $150, once I can produce a marriage certificate and show that I’m now a legal resident of Peru.

More on that front later.

Saul met me at the airport. He was standing behind a large group of people. I couldn’t see him, but I could see a bouquet of roses waving above everyone’s head. We made our way to each other and hugged. I may have cried a little bit. Nothing ugly and over the top—nothing that would jeopardize my painstakingly-applied makeup. A brief kiss. Was it awkward? A little, if I’m being honest. I suppose that’s to be expected. The man is skinny, and I am not. I’m also about an inch taller than him. None of these things matter to Saul, so I’m not letting them matter to me. (But did I mention how skinny he is?) Like for example, after church got out on our first Sunday together, I went looking for him. I thought I saw him in the crowd, but when I got closer, I could see that the person who I thought was my fiancee was actually a 12-14 year old boy. That’s the kind of skinny we’re talking about here, people. Yikes.

Aaaaaanyway, Saul’s aunt and uncle picked us up outside the airport and took us to dinner—roasted chicken, roasted cheesy potatoes, corn, sweet potato fries, and the best lemonade I’ve ever had. They then dropped us off at the home of another of Saul’s aunts. Saul and I stayed up talking for a while, hardly able to believe that we were finally together.

The next morning I was awakened by the sound of a thousand cars honking at each other. The house we’re staying in is one block away from a major thoroughfare in Lima. The drivers here are absolutely insane. On Wednesday morning we took a harrowing taxi ride to a translator’s office across from the U.S. Embassy, which is a beautiful building, btw. Google it. I have to get my birth certificate translated into Spanish before we can get married. The translator lady told us we had to get my documents legalized by the Peruvian government (the very same documents I had legalized by the Peruvian consulate in Seattle) before she would translate them. So Saul and I took another harrowing taxi ride to drop off my documents at the Department of Redundant Paperwork in central Lima. We had about three hours to kill before they would be ready, so we took a tour of the Lima Cathedral. If you ever find yourself in Lima, I highly recommend taking a tour of the Lima Cathedral, the final resting place of Francisco Pizarro, the famous destroyer of Incan culture. Turns out he came to a very nasty end, which was nice to hear.

After picking up my documents, we took the most harrowing taxi ride of all back to the translator’s office, dropped off my birth certificate, and then took a bus back to our neighborhood, which is right next to the LDS temple. We walked around the temple for a bit and then went home. We finished the night off by watching some Simpsons, which I’m happy to report is ALSO funny in Spanish.

(Of particular interest to Mormons) The next day we went to the temple. It was awesome. While there I just felt like all of this madness is exactly what I should be doing. The Lima temple is gorgeous. The endowment rooms are tiny—Saul and I got to be the witness couple, and we sat right next to each other. No division between men and women. I loved it. I will say this about the Lima temple workers, though: they don’t tolerate lolly-gagging. I figure that because it’s been the only temple in Peru for so many years, they are used to enormous caravans of people coming from all over the country to do temple work. You literally have to “take a number” to get in. Once you’re in, they want you to have a nice time and then get the hell out. After the session, I was standing around waiting for Saul to get out of the men’s dressing room, and the temple workers were obviously nervous about it. About 5 of them asked me what I was doing. Eventually one of them asked me to wait for him outside. Sheesh.

Saul’s aunt lives just 4 blocks from the temple, which is very convenient. Saul has about 2,000 aunts, I think. Two of them own the house we’re staying in. One aunt, Martha, lives here full time with her son (Eduardo) and daughter (Bianca). The other aunt, Blanca, lives mostly in Barcelona, Spain and comes to Lima a couple of times a year. She’s in Spain now, so I’m staying in her room. Saul is staying upstairs in Bianca’s room. There is also a cousin named Jessica who is kind of the housekeeper/cook who lives here with her daughter, Adaljisa. The two little girls, Bianca (6) and Adaljisa (8) are pretty much in love with me. They are fascinated by this strange creature from the United States who has taken up residence in their home. They follow me around just like my dogs used to do. They love to rummage through my suitcases and personal belongings. It’s adorable. :\

On my birthday, Saul’s aunt and her husband who picked me up from the airport (Irma and Enrique—are you keeping track?) brought me a cake, and his aunt Martha bought some little finger foods. It was a lovely little party, and the cake was quite tasty. The next day was Saul’s birthday, and I made him a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. Nothing fancy, but it was delish. I’m happy that my first Peruvian baking experience turned out well, especially because I had to convert ounces into grams, and Fahrenheit into Celcius. It was a smashing success, though. Next experiment: cinnamon rolls. I found Philly cream cheese at the grocery store (for about $3) so that is a relief, seeing as how 85% of my baking repertoire calls for it.

[Update: Cinnamon rolls were a hit.]

Peruvian food is delicious. I’ve only eaten about 2 vegetables since I’ve been here, which has been a shock to the old digestive system, but everything I’ve had has been very tasty. I’ve eaten anticuchos, which are beef hearts—marinated, skewered, then cooked on a grill. Delicious! I’ve had some chicken stomach and tripe, too, which I can’t rave about quite yet. I’m hoping I get used to it, because I have a feeling I’ve got a lot more tripe in my future. Last night Saul’s aunt Irma took us out for dinner (the aforementioned anticuchos and chicken stomach) and then we had a delicious dessert—donuts made out of sweet potato and squash, covered in a spicy honey sauce. Amazeballs.

In spite of the carb-heavy diet I’ve been living on, I’ve managed to lose a few pounds. Saul and I have been jogging together, so I think that has helped. Breakfast is usually an egg, a piece of bread, and a cup of some beverage, either hot chocolate, tea, or some very liquid oatmeal. Dinner is usually more of the same, a hot beverage and a piece of bread. Maybe a banana or an egg, too. Lunch always has rice and some other starch, usually potatoes in one form or another, or pasta. Then a piece of meat, usually chicken. It’s all been very tasty, but I really miss vegetables. I never thought I’d ever say those words in my life, but I’ve spent the last year of my life making peace with vegetables, and now I find myself craving them. Things will be different when I’m in charge, but since I’m the guest for now, I don’t exactly get to set the menu.

As for the wedding, it’s still on, folks! We’ve turned in all of our paperwork, paid all of our ridiculous fees, and proven to the government of Peru that we don’t have AIDS. Our big day will be October 15^th at 1pm. We’re getting married civilly in Saul’s aunt’s house, and then at 3pm we’ll walk across the street to the temple to make things nice and permanent. Later that evening we’ll catch a flight to Trujillo, Peru, where Saul has an Herbalife convention that he’s super pumped about. It ain’t the honeymoon of my dreams, people, but Saul promises that he’ll make it up to me. And he will—mark my words. On the 19^th, we fly to Pucallpa.

Pucallpa. The word strikes terror in my soul. The weather in Lima has been fantastic. It reminds me of Seattle: mild temperatures and grey skies. I’ve been walking around in jeans, a t-shirt, and flip-flops while Saul has on about 5 layers of clothing. “Aren’t you cold?” he (and everyone else) asks. “No, I feel great!” “Oooooh, you poor thing. If this weather is pleasant to you, you’re going to hate Pucallpa.” I have been preparing myself for hot, humid, weather. Boston in the summer is hot and humid. I was a missionary in Santa Cruz, Bolivia, which was ridiculously hot and humid. I figure I can handle it. A couple of nights ago, I went to a business dinner with Saul where I met a man who had lived in Santa Cruz for a year and had also spent some time in Pucallpa. He told me, “Try to remember the hottest day you ever experienced in Santa Cruz. That is a chilly winter day in Pucallpa.” I almost called off the wedding right then and there. Now I’m really scared. I’d appreciate your prayers, people.

I’ve got so much more to report, but I know I need to post something quickly—you’ve been so patient. If there’s anything I’ve left out that you’d like to know about, just ask. I could use a writing prompt—the crazy things I see every day are starting to become normal and not very newsworthy.

Love and miss you all! Until next time…