"I
swear, I give up! There are no available single guys in this
country," Emily said with a sigh as she sat down to have coffee with her
friend Joan. Joan smiled at her despairing friend and replied,
"You mean you haven't looked hard enough. I'm sure the place is filled
with Mexicans who would die for a guerita like you."
"You know
what I mean. I'm not looking for those pseudo-adventures. I want something more
substantial."
It was a hot
sunny down in downtown Morelia. They were seated under the wide colonial arches
of the Portal cafe which overlooked the main square. It was buzzing with
life. There were quite a few couples strolling along idly, hand in hand,
glancing into each other's faces, gleaming with love and joy. They were also on
the benches, engaged in lively conversations, eating and sharing ice-cream and gaspachos,
laughing and having a wonderful romantic time. Emily glanced at them with dark envy.
"Why not
me? Why am I the one left behind? What's wrong with me?"
Emily was not
unattractive, and many of her friends had reassured her that she had a
magnificent personality as well. Back home, in Canada, she had had a few
relationships, and although they had started so promising, they always ended up
in misfortune and disaster. Love was nothing but a connected series of heartbreak
for this young woman who had such high hopes and grand expectations. She was
quite a romantic and idealistic person, but all the guys she had met were not
quite on the same page or wavelength. They did not care about the
intricacies of personal involvement, the exciting journey of discovery of the
many beautiful but hidden facets of the loved one; all they thought about was
getting drunk, scoring, and then bragging with their so-called buddies. Emily
was sick of it all, and it had been one of the determining factors she had
decided to leave behind her own rather shallow culture in order to start
anew and afresh in this new surrounding, which she had expected to be
exciting, exuberant, and exotic.
After a few
months of one disappointment after another, even in far-away Mexico, she began
doubting herself even more and was on the verge of either embarking on another
adventure in another land, or to pack up, give up, as she said, and return
back home to look forward to a long, joyless, uneventful life.
Joan, however,
had lived in Mexico for quite a few years now and had managed not
only to meet a loving and caring husband, but she had actually started a
family. She had two daughters and was very content with the direction her
life had taken. Emily was hoping that some of her friend's luck would rub off
onto her. In fact, Joan had tried her best to help her desolate and
disillusioned friend on many occasions, playing matchmaker and arranging and
setting up dates, but all, unfortunately, to no avail.
"You know,
Joan, the only guy who strikes me as a sweetheart is your brother-in-law,
what's his name...?"
"Which
one? Mario, Humberto...?"
"Humberto!
That's the one! Man, what a sexy name!" She lit a cigarette and added with
a sigh, "Pity, he's married though! He would have been the perfect
guy!"
"Yeah,
Humberto is a great person indeed," agreed Joan.
"Totally.
You know, best thing for me would be to wait and hope he gets a divorce or
something..."
"Come on,
Emily, don't be so sarcastic. Before I met Enrique, my life had been a mess,
and look at me now. I am quite happy. I mean, there are little problems,
misunderstandings that creep up in every relationship, but, all things
considered, I could not wish for anything better."
Emily puffed
angrily on her cigarette. Last thing she needed to hear was that her friend was
happy and satisfied with her life, while hers had been so sad and depressing.
She remembered her latest partner, a sleazy Mexican guy whom she had met
in a bar and who had already cheated on her in a matter of days! She
swore never to enter another bar again.
"Well,
then where can I meet a decent fellow, tell me. At work, they are all bozos and
don't interest me at all. And then, well in church, no. Those are too religious
and would bore me to death with their babble. So what else have I got
left? Where to meet that special someone, huh?"
Joan shrugged
her shoulder and looked onto the street. There was the usual constant flow of
traffic and the occasional honks of impatient drivers.
"Hold
on a minute! I know!" Joan exclaimed suddenly with enthusiasm.
"Yeah?"
Emily looked at her, still in a lousy mood, yet with a slight sparkle of
hope in her eyes. Maybe her friend could really help her out this
time.
"Well, who
was it...I don't remember his name, this guy at work mentioned..."
"Oh no, no
more fixing dates. No offense, Joan, but your working buddies have been
one disappointment after another."
"Hold on,
Princess. Just hear me out! Don't worry, I have realized what an awful
matchmaker I am; it's not one of my strongest talents, I know. But this guy I
have talked to has mentioned a special event they have around here. It
takes place every Sunday. It sounds really cute and exciting actually. What
happens is, both men and women go out to a plaza and walk around in
circles. Men in one direction, like clockwise or something, women in the
opposite direction. So they walk on and on and when someone sees
somebody they like they throw confetti on their head."
"Confetti?"
Emily cried out and clapped her hand in a loud laugh. "That's hilarious!
That sounds like fun!"
"Yeah, if
the woman likes the guy, she throws confetti on his head and that's the way
they meet."
"Ha! How
wonderful! I love it!"
"Yes, I
think it would suit you since you are, you know, rather shy when it gets to
going up and talking to men."
"Hey, it's
just my principles. But this thing you're telling me about sounds really cool.
And it's every Sunday, you say? Where?"
"Yes,
every Sunday. It's a small town nearby. I will ask around if you like..."
"Please
do! I can't wait to go there! This coming Sunday, OK?" Emily said in an
ecstatic voice and believed to make out a dim ray of hope in the existing
darkness of her daily life.
They arrived
there an hour before the scheduled event. Emily was wearing her favorite dress;
she was going for a simple yet elegant look. She wanted to give the best
impression of who she was, so she had decided not to put on too much
make-up, just enough to accentuate her pretty round eyes and her soft pallid
skin.
Nonetheless,
she went to the event with mixed emotions. On one hand, she was obviously
excited and hoped for the best possible outcome. Yet on the other hand, she did
not want to throw herself into the arms of the first Latin lover who threw
confetti onto her; she wanted to weigh her options carefully. Without
doubt, she was nervous and looked around to see what kind of people she could
spot in the small town. Truth be told, most of them so far had not pleased
her very much.
Gradually, the
plaza filled up, and a lot of young men and women appeared seemingly out of
nowhere. Many of them were well-dressed, had chosen their best look and
were out there, with beating hearts and a nervous smile, to meet the special
one. Their pockets were filled with multi-colored confetti.
Joan walked
with her friend for solidarity's sake, but enjoyed the spectacle very much.
There were more than three or four dozen people walking in circles and glancing
at each other with probing, curious looks.
The men were
more obvious and direct in their demeanor, whereas the women were more subtle
and often waited for the men to take the first step. It was strange for the two
foreign women to walk in their ranks, and they received a lot of attention.
Only a few minutes in both of them had confetti in their hair. Emily laughed
heartily, and Joan had great fun as well. Emily felt good about herself and
took all the attention as a compliment, but she did not respond with confetti
because none of the suitors up to that point had managed to capture her
interest.
Until she
spotted a young well-built man who was wearing a short-sleeved silk shirt and
had a clean-shaven face with radiant passionate eyes. Just the first
eye-contact made Emily melt and she got a nervous sensation in her stomach. She
secretly pointed him out to Joan who agreed with her and said she should make
the first move.
With her
tightly-clenched fist full of confetti, she walked near him. However,
despite of her intention to initiate the silent conversation of love, she
choked and did not act. Joan coaxed her and shoved her with the elbow as a sign
of encouragement.
The second time
around Emily mustered up all her courage. "It's now or never!" she
thought, and the confetti flew up into the thin air, danced playfully in
the warm summer breeze and slowly descended on the young man's head like
colored snow-flakes.
"He
noticed me! Oh, my God! Oh, my goodness! Hope he will respond! Oh, my God! I'm
so nervous!" Emily whispered to her friend with her hands trembling
slightly. Joan told her to calm down. They were just about to cross him, and
Emily had a tough time controlling her pouncing nerves.
I really hope he will
respond! Please, answer me. This one I really like.
The young man
smiled at her and reached for his pocket, and confetti, like a blessing from
above, symbolized his assent and sealed the deal.
Both approached
each other. He spoke to her in Spanish, introducing himself and asking where
she was from. "Canada," she said simply in the hope he might know
some English. But, in the end, she thought, it would not matter. Love had its
own language which did not need to be spoken; they would find the
necessary means of communication, anyhow. Besides, Joan could act as a
translator for the time being.
It turned out
that Joan's presence was not needed. He spoke very good English, and soon
enough they were engaged in a stimulating conversation. Joan watched them
closely and saw the formation of a happy couple. She could tell that both were
attracted to each other.
Her first
impression of Antonio, that was his name, was quite favorable. He seemed like a
well-mannered, well-meaning, and caring individual. Joan remembered her own
wonderful and fateful day when she had first met Enrique, her husband.
After a while,
Emily signaled her that they were going to a cafe nearby. Joan nodded and
realized that she had never seen her friend in such good spirits. Her cheeks
were flushed and her eyes were glowing with happiness.
They walked
away, side by side, close to one another, their hands almost touching. Joan sat
down on the bench, brushing off the confetti from her hair and shoulder and
smiling and thinking that, in a way, she had contributed to the happiness of
her friend.
"Confetti" is a love story set in the Mexican colonial town of Morelia, where I am living now, and it is about two foreign English-speaking women. One of them is looking to find true love and the other having already found Mr. Right is trying to console and help her desolate friend. It makes reference to an odd but highly interesting matchmaking event that actually takes place around here on a regular basis.Authors comment
All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Arash Farzaneh.
Published on e-Stories.org on 08/01/2008.
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