My wife had seen snow before, in Paris, but not proper stay-on-the-ground-for-months-in-five-foot-drifts kind of snow. She got to make a snow angel for the first time and we tried to make a snowman one day when it was only around -10 but it was still too cold and dry. We made a tiny one, but he was a bit malformed.
Another key element of my wife’s cultural initiation was her first tobogganing experience, which went about as badly as it possibly could have:
Wife: I’m not going down there, it’s so steep. . .
Me: No it’s not, it’ll be great.
Wife: I’m just going to get hurt.
Me: Psh! No one ever gets hurt tobogganing. C’mon this is a great Canadian experience. You’re marrying into this culture.
Wife: Ok, fine.
We both get on a sled. I give us a good push and we go flying down the hill. We hit a bump at the bottom and my wife gets launched off and rolls a bit.
Wife: My tailbone!
Me: Umm. . .
Wife: Ow, you said I wouldn’t get hurt!
Me: Well. . .
Wife: I knew it! Why did I listen to you?
Me: Dunno. Want to go again?
She didn’t want to go again.
A couple of days before we headed for Brazil, my wife got her first acceptance letter from Concordia, which took a bit of stress away. No matter what, she had a place to go once we got back to Canada and after that she was able to direct her fears towards the wedding and our impending vacation.
The wedding was a great success. That is to say, we got married without anyone objecting and we had a nice dinner. There was a ceremony, instead of just a paper signing as we had originally intended, which made my grandparents happy. We chose February 19th which meant that it would be around the right time for discount Valentine’s day chocolate.
After the wedding was over, my wife turned her anxiety towards our trip, wondering how she would survive backpacking for six months. I owe her big on this one. I know she probably just really wanted a relaxing two week holiday at a beach resort for her honeymoon but I got so excited about the prospect of a six month vacation that she just couldn’t refuse me. I was fairly sure she would enjoy herself once we got going but I know she has a lower tolerance level for alien things and the general discomforts that come with backpacking than I do.
I have to admit to feeling a little anxious myself. I’d traveled a lot but never on a trip of this scale before. We had only booked our first room in Sao Paulo and after that we were cut free and we’d have to figure things out as they came. I was reasonably sure that we wouldn’t have any problems on our trip but you there’s always a what if, lurking. Anyway, we had our bases covered and I’d done my research. Malaria meds, insurance and common sense. What could go wrong?
Another key element of my wife’s cultural initiation was her first tobogganing experience, which went about as badly as it possibly could have:
Wife: I’m not going down there, it’s so steep. . .
Me: No it’s not, it’ll be great.
Wife: I’m just going to get hurt.
Me: Psh! No one ever gets hurt tobogganing. C’mon this is a great Canadian experience. You’re marrying into this culture.
Wife: Ok, fine.
We both get on a sled. I give us a good push and we go flying down the hill. We hit a bump at the bottom and my wife gets launched off and rolls a bit.
Wife: My tailbone!
Me: Umm. . .
Wife: Ow, you said I wouldn’t get hurt!
Me: Well. . .
Wife: I knew it! Why did I listen to you?
Me: Dunno. Want to go again?
She didn’t want to go again.
A couple of days before we headed for Brazil, my wife got her first acceptance letter from Concordia, which took a bit of stress away. No matter what, she had a place to go once we got back to Canada and after that she was able to direct her fears towards the wedding and our impending vacation.
The wedding was a great success. That is to say, we got married without anyone objecting and we had a nice dinner. There was a ceremony, instead of just a paper signing as we had originally intended, which made my grandparents happy. We chose February 19th which meant that it would be around the right time for discount Valentine’s day chocolate.
After the wedding was over, my wife turned her anxiety towards our trip, wondering how she would survive backpacking for six months. I owe her big on this one. I know she probably just really wanted a relaxing two week holiday at a beach resort for her honeymoon but I got so excited about the prospect of a six month vacation that she just couldn’t refuse me. I was fairly sure she would enjoy herself once we got going but I know she has a lower tolerance level for alien things and the general discomforts that come with backpacking than I do.
I have to admit to feeling a little anxious myself. I’d traveled a lot but never on a trip of this scale before. We had only booked our first room in Sao Paulo and after that we were cut free and we’d have to figure things out as they came. I was reasonably sure that we wouldn’t have any problems on our trip but you there’s always a what if, lurking. Anyway, we had our bases covered and I’d done my research. Malaria meds, insurance and common sense. What could go wrong?
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