Imperfectly Perfect

In the campo, the women say that you can't get married until you know how to cook.  They are mostly concerned with staples like beans and rice.  I am embarrassed to tell you that I did not know how to cook rice.  It turned out mushy or burnt or under-cooked.

Since moving to Santo Domingo, Ramon and I have been cooking lunch together.  We dance around each other in our tiny kitchen preparing our half of the meal.  Ramon was always in charge of the rice.

My perfect rice.

The day came when he wasn't home and I was in need of some Bandera, urgently.  So, I repeated the steps I had seen him take countless times and crossed my fingers.  And what do you know?  I made perfect rice.  It was fluffy and not clumpy or mushy.  Ramon was super impressed.  And according to the Doñas I can now officially marry.

Which is exactly what we did.  

Andy surprised us with champagne!

Instead of a courthouse wedding, we had a strip mall wedding.  The office where you get the license was located inside a mall full of character.  We went there Monday morning with two witnesses, waited for our number (8) to be called, said "si!", and signed on the dotted line.  That was it.  We are now officially married!  Our friend Andy brought along some champagne and we toasted right there outside the office.

Luckily, the strip mall also had a pizza place.  We ordered one to go and enjoyed it at home with some celebratory Presidentes.

Yum!

Even though it wasn't sparkly or picture perfect, it was a special day.