Chapter V: Meeting my wife

"...when you can see the unborn children in her eyes, you know you really love a woman..."

This is just part of the lyrics of a song from Brian Adams, but so true of how I felt after I met my now wife: Carolina.

As part of this journey that lead to our wedding day, I can't skip how I met her. Some people would have met their love of their lives with help of some friends, by sharing same life styles (college, work, gym), others by just pure coincidence in a bar, party or now a days via websites. How I met Carolina was a combination of all of these and I like to believe "destiny" also had a big role. Part of this story has both mine and my wife's version of how we met. When I finally heard her version, is when it made me think that some things in life are just meant to be.

It was a nice summer day, a few days after my birthday, when I was giving a squash lesson at the gym I used to work. It was a great way of making some money while I was at University and still do what I enjoyed the most: play squash.

After I finished the lesson, a really beautiful and young girl was waiting outside the squash court. Her skin was white and seemed so smooth. She had her black hair hidden in a pony tail while showing her glamorous, most beautiful and angelical face in a perfect body. As soon I stepped out, she asked me if I knew the squash instructor of the gym. I looked at her and thought "This is my lucky day. Very few times I have the change of teaching squash to someone that hot !"

When I told her that I was the instructor, she smiled and asked again to please tell her who was the squash pro. She couldn't believe it was me. She was expecting and older person, more "professional" and not a 24 year old skinny kid (yes... I was very skinny). After she finally realized I was actually the squash pro, right away I asked her when she wanted to start. I even asked her to jump in court as I had no one else lined up.

One of the biggest mistakes in life is to "assume". For me it was very clear: young woman, working out in the gym, looking for a squash instructor... it was a no brainer that she was looking to learn how to play squash. However, her answer made me realize again the big mistake of assuming. She smiled again. It happens that she recently had a new manager at work, someone that came from another country and that was interested in a place where he can keep playing and improving his squash game.

Carolina asked me for my contact info so she can give it to her manager, that I should expect a call from him anytime in the next couple of days. Normally is the other way around, I am the one asking for the contact info. Suddenly I was no longer interested in teaching her squash, I just wanted to go out with her. Quickly I thought of a great excuse to ask for her phone number: " Would you you mind give me your number in case your manager doesn't call. I would then be able to give you a quick follow up call"

At the moment I thought it was a great reason to ask for her phone, but Carolina thought it was actually very lame, but she still gave me her phone number.

A week passed and her manager never called, so I thought it was time to do the "follow up" call and invite her out. We arranged to meet again at the gym. She couldn't reject a free squash lesson. Before we jumped in the court, she mentioned all the aerobics she normally did, to some how give me the hint that she might not even break a sweat playing squash.

We did 30 minutes and I must say she was really fit (I really made her run up and down the court). She afterwards confessed she couldn't take a minute more. After the squash lesson and all according to the plan, I asked her out to go and have a few beers at my favorite place: El Leon (The Lion), and she said "YES"

In Caracas I must say people are some how superficial. It is all about what you have, where did you study, where do you live and what car you drive. They will refer to people by name and if you cant put a face to that person, they will say "you know, the guy with a red Mercedes". By the time I met Carolina, car wise I was screwed. As soon as we went in the parking lot to go out that first night, when she saw my car she asked me: "Sorry to ask, but you are not that type person that kidnaps or mugs people, right?"

By that time, I was driving the "family" car: a blue Ford Maverick from the 80's (or 70's), with the paint all burned by the sun, a couple of bumps around the car and still the original black plastic leather in the seats. The suspension system made all sort of noises, the door when you closed it made a very loud noise and it wasn't in the best conditions inside (a bachelor's car). The car was so loud that after dating Carolina for a couple of weeks, when I was dropping her at her place, she would asked me to drop her one block away from her house, so the car wouldn't wake up her grandmother ! At the same time I was so proud of that car. People would respect me on the streets, giving me always the right of way, even the hitch hikers would stop hitch hiking when the saw me driving by and best of all, if a girl was going out with me, is because they REALLY, REALLY liked me !

After a few weeks from that free squash lesson, it was official: we were dating and it didn't take make to long to introduce her to my parents. Apparently that freaked her out, but it was all good. Those upcoming months were some of my best. Fully in love, doing well at the University and playing some great squash. Truly, it couldn't be better. We dated for almost 18 months and then, as all good things sometimes have to end, we broke up.

Have a great Holidays and HAPPY NEW YEAR !, see you again in 2008

Chapter IV: Crossroads

After having that ever first sweet kiss, after having finally a REAL girlfriend, how little I knew about broken hearts. Thinking that my Bajan romance had a hard core ending, how naive I was. After dating her for 3 months, I had one of my biggest dreams come true: go to Europe to become a Professional Squash Player.

It didn't took me long to find out that I started my squash career a bit to late. As some people might say, is the journey that is important, and what a great journey it was. Traveling in Europe, playing squash and most importantly: in love !

I was always thinking of her, to the point that I would not leave the house until the mailman arrived. Most of the times he didn't bring any good news, even though I wrote her every week. Internet & email did not exist at that time, phone calls were so expensive and faxes were not of easy access and very expensive too. I had to rely in the Royal Mail and her desire to write me any news. I think I received 3 letters from her during that time, but I was still in love with her. How could I not be?

Right after 9 months I went back home: not as a professional Squash player, but at least a much better one, ready to start my 1st semester of Industrial Engineer and without a girlfriend. As soon as I came back, I confirmed the rumors that she was dating someone else. SIX MONTHS ! just thinking of her. Thanks to some rumors I heard and the advice of some good & wise old men, I moved on. Ready to romance every single girl in Liege & Swindon. Many unsuccessful attempts except for one: she doubled my age and needless to say she was gorgeous. No matter how hard I try to remember her name, I just simply can't remember it; but once in a while I can still smell her sweet perfume. (Hope my wife will miss this chapter =)

The next 18 months were as hard as it gets: University + Engineering. Out of 5 courses in my first semester, I had the top 3 professors. Not top 3 as the best ones, but as the most $@&!!! Just imagine that in one of the courses, a classroom of 60 students only 4 passed !!! (I was not one of them)

Been that difficult made my next decision even easier. Near end of the year, the South American Squash tour had a stop in Caracas. Going back in time, I must say that it was one of the most important events that happened in my life; as some might say: THE crossroad. My whole life changed after that tournament.

I went to the club that was hosting the tournament and as I was walking to the squash courts, there she was: a very beautiful woman playing some fine squash. I was attracted initially by her squash skills, she was really good. The days passed and just like that Cupid that strikes you without warning, I fell under a spell that cost me a year of University, many gray hairs to my parents and it could had cost me even more, which luckily I can now tell the story with a spin of humor.

The week after the tournament ended, we were travelling to Guayaquil for the next stop of the tour. Her home country. Must say that squash & love were at their best. Finished 4th in the tournament and I even stayed an extra week in Quito with her. When I went back to Caracas there was no chance to recover the 2 weeks lost at the University. I basically lost the whole semester. Too many exams and to much to catch up with before the final terms, so I decided to quit Engineering and start studying Business & Administration the next summer. In the meantime, back to the squash road. Just after New Year I saw her again in Peru. After the tournament was over and she left, I stayed another 3 weeks, enjoying the Peruvian Summer, hot chicks, freaking cold ocean and the Delicious "cebiche"

My return ticket was from Lima to Caracas with a stop in Guayaquil. When we landed in Guayaquil, just a 1 hour stop, that spell (I need to blame it to someone or something) made me get off the plane. Got my bags off the plane knowing that I did not had enough cash to buy another ticket to go back home and I was ready to make a life in Quito with my love. Called her right from the airport as my plane was leaving, told her I was in Guayaquil, ready to catch a bus to Quito to meet her, when she said: "Nice to hear from you and I am glad you are in Guayaquil. Don't bother coming to Quito, I just came back with my old boyfriend, future fiance"

I knew then I could do ANYTHING for love, I just needed to choose the right one. I stayed in Ecuador for almost 7 months. I did very well: made some money teaching and playing squash, got in & out of trouble more frequently that wished for, and I even saw her several times in different tournaments.... and before those who wants to ask me: yes, she still leaves and must say she is happily married (with another guy I think)

Chapter III: First Kiss

Before I take you to my wedding day, wanted to take you first to that journey of how I met my lovely wife.

What you are about to read, is part of that fiction I mentioned at the beginning. Not because is not true, but because you will find it hard to believe. Just a few days ago, we had a team building exercise in the company I work for: we had to tell three stories about our lives. Two had to be true, and one had to be a lie. Then we had to best guess which story was the lie. The story I am about to tell you, every single person on the team thought it was my lie !

Since very young I had been dedicated to my studies and my sport: Squash. I started playing since I was 11 years old, and also I was considered a good student. I was very shy and had the “Nerd” written all over my head… literally. They would write on the back of my T-shirt’s the word “Pollote”. Translated to English, it was a combination of nerd and naive. But it did not matter to me, I had my squash, the one thing I could be good at and also kicked some buts at the same time.

I must confess that I had many lovers when I was between 14 and 17 years old, all Platonic loves. One of my closest attempt of having a girlfriend, was when I was playing a squash tournament in Barbados. There was the most beautiful girl I ever saw in my short life, especially because she kind of liked me too. We would be seating watching the squash matches, very closed together, holding hands, writing little silly notes to each other. My hands would be shaking every time I touched her, and when I looked into her eyes I could see myself living in Barbados for the rest of my life. She was the one. The whole week went by, and at the night before the big Party, I could not sleep thinking of her, having the most romantic night by the sea, with a full moon, warm weather, and with the love of my life.

At that time, I had no clue what happened or why, but I understand now. That night, that very special night, I found out she was going out to the party with someone else. I could not believe it ! How could she had done that to me ! I was broken hearted, all those silly notes, holding hands, all that time meant nothing to her? Her best friend even wrote a note to me, that I still keep, and it read:
“Rey, I am very sorry of what happened, but she is like that”

That was it, the end of my romantic live. I was never going to trust any other women, no kids, no marriage. Then, after I grew up, I realized that she dumped me for a very good reason: she had no chance to score with me that night. I was so naive I never tried to even kiss her . She was to be admire and I felt so overwhelmed of her being with me, that I did not want her to think of me as an evil guy by me trying to kiss her, don’t even think of having sex !!!!!

To make the story short, my first kiss happened 2 weeks before I turned 18 !!!!!!!! I don't remember many details of my first real girlfriend. I believe I met her at the squash courts. Not very surprising as it was there where I spend most of my time. She was gorgeous, long blond hair, beautiful dark eyes, about my height, and she was four years older than me, and like any good mother, the age factor is what my mother hated the most. Finally, more than a kissed happened and my love life just begun.

Chapter II: The Question

Woke up that warm morning, cuddled with a beautiful woman lying by my side. The day finally arrived. I could see her eyes lovely closed, the same way I always imagined the woman of my life to be waken up next to me.

Took my usual shower, with warm water falling in my face, trying to do it’s work: WAKE ME UP. Eventually, after twenty short minutes in the shower, I was already running late. Breakfast was served in the kitchen. There was a dinning table, but it was hardly ever used to have any meals, with the computer on one side, books and paper works all over, made it difficult to use it, specially when time was running up.

After having that delicious typical food (the "Arepa"), so well known for the best after-hours meal you could have, stuffed with the most creamy, soft, white cheese, that literally melted in your mouth, rapidly got dressed. Went down the old building I lived in for the past six months, located in one of the most expensive areas in the city. Not because of the richness and wealthy in the surroundings, but for it’s strategic location. Just a few minutes walking from one of the most beautiful mountains, which divided the coast form the city (if you were to go on the top, 2.000 meters. above sea level, you would be able to see the Caribbean sea on one side, and the whole city on the other side), a few blocks away from the subway, and within a three minutes drive to work. Not to mention all the malls, restaurants, convenience stores and anything that you may need in a cosmopolitan, but disorganized city.

I was not going to my office that Thursday. Instead, I took a cab around the corner, hiding again from the owner of the kiosk across the street. Traffic was not on it’s best days of course, specially if it knows that you are running late. After thirty minutes, a normal five minutes drive, I arrived to the hotel we meant to meet with my fellow co-workers. I was the first one to arrive.

It is a common well known genetic drive, fisted into our most deepest Latin-American DNA, blood and bones, that we are not allow, not by society who is demanding it, but from the very deep of our souls: not to be on time. Then again, I have been fighting this “no to late” syndrome, which can be seen by very few people, as the evolution of our dearest “race”, to a much better society. However, we had developed a cure to fight this genetic malfunction. If you are meant to be at 8.00 in one place, very seriously, and doing the best of the efforts not to be caught, you must say:
- “We must meet at 7.15 am sharp. Whoever is late, pays for the breakfast”

But this “Band-Aid” cannot fight against such sophisticated, evolved disease. It has manage to identify the real time of the meeting, and of course, at the end, everyone is paying for their own breakfast that day, and for the one next day!, because they will arrive at 8.30 am !

My “not so late syndrome” had manage to give me quality time with myself, while I was waiting for others. I have been showing up this syndrome, since I taught squash 17 years ago. Then I understood the importance of been on time, and finally, just like doing the most specialized Master degree in the subject, I lived for almost three months in the “late genetic” free country: England.

After everyone arrived and each one of us paid for their own breakfast, the work session went as planned. We had a Direct Marketing seminar, and many things were to be learned that day, specially at the very end.

Towards the end of the day, we had planned an amazing activity: they were going to teach us how to taste scotch. Nothing to do with Direct Marketing, but everyone was excited, perhaps not to learn how to taste scotch, but to have free drinks ! The gave us several wine glasses with different types of scotch, and a board with the different places the cultivate what the scotch is made of. Just a small note, something I did not know, is that whiskey can only be named scotch, if it was made in Scotland. Pretty obvious for me now, but not before.

At some point, the facilitator asked THE QUESTION. A question which answer change my perspective of many things. Before you even read the answer, please try to answer the question yourself, and see what could you come up with, and hopefully you will find the answer as amazing as I did:

“What is the proper or best way to drink Scotch?”

Many answers were given, many thought they were right (and they still do). The not very hardcore drinkers said “…with Pepsi or Coke”. The fun beach partying guys said “… with lots of ice and Coconut Water”. I must admit it actually tastes good, but either way I don’t like Scotch, I only drink it when I have no choice. The more respected guys said “… with soda or water, and lots of ice”, and finally the Scotch experts, the hardcore drinkers, the professors said “… on the rocks or straight”

It was a hot discussion, everybody seemed to be right, and in fact they were. What the facilitator said the answer was:
“You should drink your Scotch in the way you best enjoy it… not more, not less”

And that is how we planned our weeding, the best way we thought it would make it “Perfect”. Women, in the most cases, are naturally born to planned their wedding. They have been thinking of it since they were just a kid. I knew a friend that she had planned here wedding to every details, even before having a boyfriend. When she finally got proposed, it was matter of just executing her “business” or wedding plan. Her fiancé, not aware of this situation, found out the hard way, when he had very little to say regarding the planning of his own wedding.

For those hardcore wedding planner women, they might find shocking the way we planned our wedding, others might find it liberating as “Yes… that is exactly what I want (or wanted)”. At the end, it is how we thought we would had enjoy it, and I say “thought”, because no matter how much planning we had, the day we got married, most of it went from what we had planned, to some things went wrong, to the most unbelievable wedding!

Chapter I: Once upon a time…

I must confess and be very honest with who ever is taking the challenge of reading this blog: this is my very first time intending to write something more than what I write in a day to day bases, and I will be very thankful, if you follow me to the end, even more if you do recommend a friend to read it, and I will glad if I can make you laugh at least once.

These are true events prior, during and post My Wedding Day. I might change the names of the characters just to protect their identities (including mine), but no the facts or events.



I will try my very best to post a "chapter" every week.... so hope you enjoy !


“Once upon a time… long time ago…”, are the classics beginnings of a story with amazing adventures, love, romance and fiction, with common unexpected endings. But this story will begin with: “Once upon a Wedding, not so long time ago…” with adventures, love and romance, perhaps some fiction (because you would not believe that what happened, was true), with an already known unexpected ending, if you understand what I mean.

The word “Wedding” could mean at this point of your life many things. It could be something that you think is never ever going to happen to you (you wish !!). It also maybe the most scary word that could come out from your lips, even though you wanted it so much. It could mean the happiest moment of your thirty years of marriage (or just the only happiest moment), the best thing you achieved in life (that someone DID married you), or it could be what is taking right now 110% of your time, energy, thoughts, and MONEY. This last one could be just because you are about to get married, or even thinking of popping up the big question. Looking for ways of how you are going to pay for that “precious” ring women so anxiously wait for, not because of the idea of sharing a lifetime, family or kids with you, but in just how that ring will look in her hand and what her friends will say (at least she will think of this only the first time, and when she thinks of the other “stuff”… then she will be in panic). I never did any research about what a women actually thinks when the big question is popped, but if there was any study done or to be made, for sure it will be one of the most valuable findings in the psychology history.

Any way, in my case it could be perhaps a little more complicated to find out what she was thinking, because as you will find out, we still have not figured it out yet, who really popped the question the first time. Technically I did, but the first time was more like:
- “Rey, lets go and find out when we can get a day reserved for the church…”

As in most of the things that you could find in life, there is always going to be something bigger, something smaller, regarding the circumstances you find yourself in. A bigger animal, a smaller animal, a prettier woman, a less pretty woman, a friend that earns more money, one that is still living on his parents, and of course amazing things that happened on a wedding day, or a perfect wedding (if such thing exists!)

I could say that My Wedding Day, (and in case that my wife, ever reads this too, I shall start referring it as “Our Wedding”, just to make sure that my next Blog, if there is any, will not be called “My Divorce”) was as we believe, full with more “stories and anecdotes” than the average of a perfect wedding.

... till next week !