Question: How many people can you fit into this limousine?
It’s completely illegal, of course, as the beast is only licensed for 16 punters. But when it’s a sunny Saturday and the event is a Mexican wedding, then who am I to be the Limousine Grinch?
I’m rapidly learning that different cultures have remarkably different norms, especially in social situations. Mexican folks apparently don’t put much stock in the tradition of the bride being given away by her father. I was chatting to the father – well, trying to understand him, as I don’t speak Spanish – beforehand, and the gist of it was that his role was limited. It was her mother we had to wait for at the church, and it was her mother who gave the final assent for the hitching to go ahead.
It was a Catholic ceremony, as one would expect. The groom, when he appeared with his new bride an hour and a half later, looked as if he had seen a ghost. He honestly seemed shell-shocked: blank faced, silent, wide-eyed. It was as if he was a wild animal freshly captured for the amusement of everyone else.
Rather an apt metaphor for his wedding day don’t you think?
The funniest part of the day was the “videographer.” This guy ran the entire show, choreographing the arrival of the limousine, the opening and closing of doors and pretty much everything else. When the wedding party emerged from the chapel he shooed them all back inside so he could get a better angle.
In twenty years the happy couple will relive it and marvel at how wonderful everything was. But on the day they were tired, hungry, stressed and feeling powerless. At least we stopped for cokes and corn chips on the way to the reception. That cheered everyone up no end.