Influx

Thursday was Carlos's first day of vacation. But he didn't get to do anything relaxing, like sleep in. At 9AM we had an appointment with the musicians to practice the pace of our tango (which wasn't looking too bad by then) and review the Jewish songs. The band had heard of the Hava Nagila, but hadn't ever played it and had no idea of how long to go on. I had to explain, just keep on repeating the same thing until someone tells you to stop.

After only two dance lessons, we decided that this would be a perfect time to practice a bit more.

Breaking news! We have uncovered rare footage of this rehearsal!

OK, the one time that weekend I used my camera was to record the session to get the pace of the music. The recording we had been practicing with was about 20% faster and we couldn't really figure out the timing of choreography without the pace.

For those who believe in informed consent, this video contains a few close ups of our butts. Sorry. 



From there we went (almost) straight to the airport to meet my family. Actually, we went to Carlos's parents house to exchange trucks (Papi's is more spacious than ours) and pick up my wedding dress, then went to the airport. But this was when the organized chaos began. They arrived with three other couples, so we had to find taxis for a dozen people and a million bags (even though we put about half the luggage in the truck).

The street in front of the hotel was a one way street with two lanes. The hotel is on the left side of the road, but if someone pulls over they do so on the right. So in front of the hotel we had a dozen people darting back and forth across the road trying to get all the luggage into the hotel. And once all that was done, all the bags and people needed to be directed to their rooms. The rooms had names, not numbers (we had the entire 12 room hotel), and sometimes Leticia, Eugenia, Virginia, and Victoria (said with Spanish accents) turned into tongue twisters and misheard allocations.

Then Carlos and I went to find a notary. Another document that I needed to get married was a copy of my passport that was notarized. And my witness, Jones, needed hers notarized as well. But, of course, we couldn't find anywhere to make copies since the power was out in the center of town. When we finally got the copies, the notaries were heading out for lunch. So we decided to do the same.

Carlos disappeared, I think to his parents house, I can't remember, but he wasn't at lunch with the rest of us. A group of about 15 of us had lunch at Raymipampi, one of my mom's favorite restaurants here. She took it upon herself to inform everyone that the locro de papas (potato soup) was the best and everyone had to try it. And almost everyone did. This was my first experience as a translator. I soon discovered that even though speaking Spanish has become easy, translating is really hard.  I managed to help everyone order their lunch. Apparently I did a good enough job for the waiter to ask me if I was a the tour leader. No, I replied, all these people are my friends and family. He seemed a bit shocked.

After lunch Jones and I finally got our papers notarized (phew), but then I had to go immediately to Challuabamba. Chaulluabamba is the town about 20 minutes from Cuenca, where Carlos's parents have a weekend house, the garden of which we were getting married in. Carlos and I went with our parents and met the priest and the wedding coordinator there. Some of the tents had been set up already, but it wasn't decorated yet, so it still looked a bit, um simple. Fortunately, all the flowers were in bloom. At least the garden was on our side. We did a run through of the ceremony then headed back to Cuenca.

I got to relax for a bit before our 6PM dance lesson (lesson #3). Actually, not really. I spent my time finalizing our guest information (what to see and do in Cuenca). I was a bit stressed at this time. We had cocktails at the hotel at 7PM. And of course, we got to the dance lesson a bit late, and left a bit late, and then picked up Carlos's parents and hit traffic returning to town...we only arrived at around 7:30PM. But I really did get to relax for a few minutes then.

After about an hour of cocktails, most people wanted to grab some dinner. We walked Jones and Jon back to their hotel, but there we were met by Arpad and Roxana (our friends from Bolivia) and their two and a half month old son. We had dinner with them, my second meal of the day at Raymipampi. The proprietor must have thought I was nuts, but the meal was just a good as the previous one.

We returned to the hotel exhausted, fearing that the next day would probably just a crazy. It wasn't. It was even worse.

P.S. - The next episode will not be posted for a few days due to my lack of photos.  I know that these entries are much more interesting with photos, but it didn't even occur to me to take any because everyone else was wielding a camera.