I am so married.

Wedding #2, the sequel, the church one...whatever you want to call it, happened over our Easter break in the beautiful state of Indiana. Perhaps you find sarcasm towards the Hoosier state in that sentence, but this time, there truly was none intended.

You see, this time I saw the state in which I was born and bred (fellow Hoosiers include: Diane Chambers from Cheers, James Dean, and the guy who draws Garfield) through different eyes. European eyes. Not mine though, my inlaws'. Seven of them traveled all the way from Barcelona to be a part of our Catholic wedding in the States, and I admit, I was at a bit of a loss as to what to do with these sophisticated Europeans in my humble state of corn and soy. But apparently we have buffalo by our house (and after visiting, you can have a buffalo burger, which seemed a bit weird). And Amish people! Okay, I knew about the Amish - who seemed much more quaint while visiting with the inlaws, instead of being just a consistent source of well-made furniture and Shoo-Fly Pie.

This wedding was the churchy one, held in beautiful St. Patrick's Catholic Church in Fort Wayne, Indiana. This place was always my favorite among the Fort's churches, with its intricate altar and beautiful stained glass windows. I was so excited that my mother managed to book this locale for our wedding, as I had always dreamed of getting married in an old church that wasn't constructed of weird geometric shapes as so many modern churches seem to be these days. The priest that came with the church, Fr. Chau, was a lovely Vietnamese guy, with a bit (read: more than a bit) of an accent. Add that to the fact that the old church was rather echoey like the Mammoth Caves in Kentucky, and you had a recipe for the old folk like my Aunt Virginia having not a clue as to what Fr. Chau was saying during the one and a half hour mass. Except for when he gave a sweet welcoming to Jordi's family and thanked them for coming all the way from BOSNIA.

Not Barcelona. BOSNIA. That, of course, echoed loud and clear.

It was a very long mass. And being that this was a very traditional church, we spent those 90 minutes on a kneeler at the front. Turns out the netting on my dress that made it all lovely and slightly poofy, also gave my knees quite a rubbing. Jordi had a different dilemma with the kneeler, as it revealed that his dress shoes, while seemingly identical from the top, actually had different soles. One brown, one black. Which of course is only noticeable if you happen to be kneeling down in front of a large group of people. For 90 minutes.

We just explained that this was the fashion of choice for former members of the Yugoslav Republic...

All in all, it was a truly lovely and meaningful ceremony, even though our DJ insisted on playing light jazz (blech) during the dinner hour. Somehow he managed to get the groove going later and people on the dance floor. He even heeded my requests eliminating the Hokey Pokey and Chicken Dance from the playlist.

My whole family (minus just a couple) managed to make it for the day, traveling from states far and wide. It really meant so much to us that so many people came to celebrate with us. It was a great reunion of sorts, with aunts and uncles who hadn't seen each other in years, and my increasingly gigantic cousins; it was finally explained to Jordi why I always refer to myself as "short." Of course my family is all located within the US borders.

But I like to think they still would have still made it for our wedding, no matter where they were located in the world.

I mean, Jordi's family came all the way from Bosnia, you know.

Honeymoon and Moving on...

Since it's been about a month since I last wrote, there is lots to say! First off, married life is much like life was like when we were just "roommates." We're still getting along swimmingly, writing dopey notes to each other on the chalkboard...and I mean dopey and a sweet and uber-cute way, and he still makes me tea in the mornings. We've got another wedding coming down the line in two weeks, back in the USA with my family and friends. This version will be the full Catholic mass, and I will be forever indebted to my mother (and her support group consisting of family and her friends) for doing the lion's share of the work with this one because we are so far from home...

We've gone on a couple of major excursions during the month of February, the first of which included a job fair, and the second of which was much less stressful: our honeymoon!

First to the job fair...
We headed to London to interview as a teaching couple, and had all sorts of thoughts about where we might end up for the next few years of our life. Brazil, Japan, Vietnam, Spain, and even Bangladesh, were places we were looking as potential new homelands. Upon arriving at the fair, which hosted 120 schools and around 500 teacher candidates, we dove into the melee and tried to wrangle interviews with various schools that had listed positions for each of us. We needed to find a combination that required both a PE teacher and a primary teacher (I am desperate to head back to the Grade 1 classroom!). Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your perspective), many of the schools we thought would have vacancies, did not! So...we almost went with jobs in Munich. Yes, another 2-3 years in Germany. There were positives to this option: we know the language, the culture, and we'd be next to the Alps this time, much different than our current rainy and gray Berlin. But the negatives were there as well: we know the language, the culture, and fear having to put up with German Shelf Toilets for another 2-3 years... Happily, we also had interviews at other schools, including Budapest, Moscow, and Tokyo. Following our interview with the school in Tokyo, we were sold...they had the exact positions we were hoping for, it is a small school, and...we really like sushi. A lot. So we canceled the rest of our interviews, accepted a position with the Japanese school...and Tokyo, here we come! In 6 months. So now we are living one foot (or two, if you count both of our feet) in Berlin, and one in Tokyo, though we plan to spend a good long time visiting with both of our families this summer. Though there is a direct flight from Detroit to Tokyo available, something tells me my mother won't hit Asia 4 times in one year like she did during my time here in Europe...

As for the honeymoon, we went to Hurghada, Egypt...the Bahamas of Europe. We stayed in an all-inclusive resort, the Royal Azur, and truly enjoyed our time there. We'd read a lot on Trip Advisor before going, and were a bit nervous about all the "drunk Russians" purported to be running rampant through this hotel, but instead found them to be irritating only by their heavy smoking and need to converse LOUDLY on their mobiles while sunning in their Speedos by the pool.

Though Jordi had been to Egypt before, I had not, and was excited to learn that there was an opportunity to see the pyramids in Cairo, even though we were a bit far away from the capital city. It took a little persuading (though I understood his hesitation after making the trip) to get on a bus at 1am to drive to Cairo for 8 hours, crossing the Sahara in the dead of night. But he agreed. We piled on the bus that night at 1am, picked about 30 people at various hotels which took 2 HOURS...finally at 2:45am we were told we were going to join the "convoy" which would be crossing the Sahara in a giant snake line of tour busses, arriving in Cairo at 9:30am. We pulled into a parking lot, where about 50 busses were waiting. Situated around the perimeter of the lot were Egyptian soldiers armed with big scary guns, facing out towards the desert, shielded behind metal. Made me wonder a bit what the hell was out there in the desert that we needed to be protected from?!?

After a sleepless night sandwiched between two overly chatty French girls, and a gigantic Dutch couple, we arrived in beautiful Cairo. This is literally the saddest city I have ever seen. People plodding the dusty, dirty streets. Dogs digging through garbage. Laundry hanging out the window of various falling down tenement structures, "airing" out. In the distance: the pyramids of Giza.

Upon arrival at the pyramids, my image of the mystic giants was shattered. They were not alone in the windswept desert, they were situated on the edge of dirty Cairo. The pyramids were populated with vendors selling camel rides, vagrants trying to snag euro coins with sad faces, and lots of litter. Lots. We took the obligatory pictures, and got back on the bus to head to the Sphinx, then the Egyptian Museum (which was also dirty, and disorganized, but had really cool stuff from King Tut's tomb). After a day of touring Cairo, I was happy to have seen the magnificence of monuments built thousands of years ago, but a bit weary from the depressing conditions of a very sad city. I was actually thrilled to clamber back aboard the bus to head to our enclave of a resort, a haven in the vast expanse of desert. Most folk (even the chatty Frenchies) passed out on the ride home. The driver literally barreled through the desert this time, nailing every single pothole in his path. We actually arrived in Hurghada proper at 9:30pm, but didn't get back to our own hotel until a full 2 hours later due to the many, many drop-offs at other hotels.

The next few days were filled with relaxing reading, windsurfing (which was not relaxing), a very funny glass-bottom boat ride - the boat was splintered with neglect, and water was seeping in!, and basically, just enjoyed each other's company...and the free ice cream poolside! Plus, we talked lots about our future...Tokyo, family, etc...

A great honeymoon it was...not because of the relaxing atmosphere, cross-desert adventures, or the yummy wood-fired pizzas available at lunch time.

It was perfect because during the week, we grew as a couple. Not just in our pant sizes, due to the all-inclusive environment...

Though I do wonder if my wedding dress might be a bit more snug this time around.

That rice really stings!

Yay!

We're married!

Yay!

Its been a long time...

I honestly didn't realize it had been over two months! I've been a bit preoccupied. A lot preoccupied. This wedding business can really take over your life...

But in these two months I've learned several things:
1. That having your wedding hair done by someone you can't communicate with can result in tragic Flashdance hair.
2. Nervous energy really does burn calories!
3. Catalan is no easy language to learn...and even harder to pronounce...but the use of x in many of the words is sort of cool.
4. There are sooooo many details to think of...and I am glad we did it all in four months, instead of the two-year plan.
5. I totally get the honeymoon thing now...

So the day is finally near, everything is ordered, all the names are written, and all that remains is my need to memorize my vows...and learn how to pronounce them! Mixing up the vowel sounds in a few of these words could require some serious damage control after the fact...

Salud!

Two Weddings for the price of None

No, I have not been trapped in the frozen tundra of Sweden (though I would like to still be there very much - it is lovely, cozy, and those Kanelbulles are just to die for). I have been trapped in the mire that is planning two weddings at once, while living in neither place.

Our Spanish wedding is on, thanks to our passing muster at the Spanish Embassy last week. After finally getting the ten million official papers together, translated, stamped, and stapled, we had to go in for an official interview. We were actually separated (a la "Green Card") and asked questions to make sure we were reeeeally in love, and not just trying to get citizenship in each other's countries. It was kind of fun, but a bit weird, since we both felt like we were under inspection, even though we were totally telling the truth! Really, all the lady had to do is just look at our dopey faces to know we are completely besotted with each other. Well, my dopey face anyway.

The American wedding is underworks as well, and we are currently trying to figure out a way to have a Catholic ceremony, which is difficult for reasons that I won't detail. It seems the Catholics love their paperwork just as much as the Spanish Government.

But the best news is that I have a pretty dress. Super pretty. It actually looks a bit like when you wrap a bedsheet around you when you are little and pretend to get married. I used to do that with my Mickey Mouse doll. Anyway, it has no beads, ruffles, lace, shine, or anything...as simple as simple can be...

Unlike the rest of this whole wedding planning process!

Hej från Sverige!

Yep, I am freezing my toes off up North in the land that gave us H&M, ABBA, and IKEA. In a few days, we are catching a 16-hour night ferry to Helsinki, Finland to spend a couple of days there before grabbing the ferry back to Stockholm and heading back to Berlin. Which seems downright toasty compared to this Arctic place.

But I have someone here to keep me warm. The someone I plan to marry in just three short months.

He gave me a beautiful ring yesterday, by the way. Two silver bands crossed and soldered together.

Sometimes it amazes me that I have found someone who knows me so well.

Except for today, he learned about my unfortunate finger and toe situation passed down from my mama, where they freeze in the tiniest drops in temperature. But the trooper that he is, he gave my feet a rubdown right in the Central Station.

That's love, I have to say. Especially since I was wearing yesterday's socks.