Colorado Springs Trip and Asma's Fabulous Wedding

Saturday, July 23rd

On Saturday we woke up, packed up, and checked out, joining Lara and Wei for a final breakfast at Rudy’s—ah, brisket taco and delicious iced tea, how I will miss you! We parted and did our own things for the morning—after we gassed up the van with E85, Robert and Marcus and I checked out the farmers’ market at Bancroft Park in Old Colorado City, which was really lovely and fun. There were lots of dogs and children, beautiful local peaches and melons and the last of the local Rainier cherries, $1 whoopee pies in many flavors, and lots of free samples. It was a strange combination of Berkeley atmosphere, Haymarket prices, and farmers’ market quality, overall—a $1 basket of farm-raised local beets and a $2.50 basket of local peaches? Not at the markets I go to in Boston, at least. From there, we checked out Acacia Park and the Wilbur Fountain, but it didn’t look as much fun as the Penrose, so we went back to America the Beautiful Park—this time fully equipped with bathing suit and shirt for Marcus—to enjoy the playground and sprinklers some more.

We drove back to the L&L for lunch—lomi lomi salmon, butter mochi, and loco moco. Marcus napped in the car, so I ran in, got the food and brought it back, and we had a date lunch in the front seat, before finishing off the meal with a turtle blizzard from Good Times (beats Dairy Queen hands-down in my book) and a limeade from Sonic.

In the midst of the afternoon’s requisite drizzly thunder, we drove over to the Broadmoor—where the wedding would actually be held the next day—to check in. We had a small room, but a gorgeous one (“Look at the pretty room!” Marcus said when he woke up and saw it, just before devouring an order of garlic shrimp we’d saved for him) and a lovely oversized bathroom. While Robert and Marcus went to the pool and then for a spin around the lake in a paddle boat, I took a luscious bath. They came back, and we all got ready for the evening’s events—the mehndi—and the 6:30 shuttle bus that would bring us down to Pueblo to Asma’s parents’ house again. I had a zipper break (I am not naming any names here) on the tunic that matched my turquoise outfit for the evening, but flexible me just wore the turquoise flowing pants and scarf with a random hot pink nursing tee shirt I’d already worn that day. Asma loves hot pink, in case you didn’t know, and I figured I looked colorful and festive enough. The bus was a nice and relaxing way to get down there; neither Robert nor Wei had to drive, which was nice, and we got to talk to some of the other guests on the way down and back as well. Marcus garnered many compliments for his Indian outfit, even before we’d left the Broadmoor.

The house was fully set up this time with lovely outdoor decorations, tents, stages, and luxurious beds in the yard. Although now there were perhaps 200 people there—these events had been growing larger—there were still only about ten children under ten or so, but still Marcus managed to find some English cousins of Asma’s to play with, and they romped around on the pillows and beds for awhile. With Marcus happy near Robert, I participated in the bride’s side processional; Asma entered and sat with her father on the stage, and we processed in with candles in henna (mehndi) and flowers and presented them to her and danced in a circle again. Then the groom’s side processed in with their trays and gifts and flowers, and Tahir got to sit next to Asma and they had a small receiving line.

There was a mariachi band, Frida Kahlo-inspired hair and ornaments for Asma, and then Mexican and Italian food at the buffet; we sat at a table in the back of the tent, near some ventilation, and chatted with Nila, another Wellesley alum who now teaches at Colorado College. After dinner, Lara and I and the other members of the bridal dance crew were told to hurry downstairs and change into our matching outfits, and then we all muddled through the 20 minutes or so of choreagraphed dances; the “principals” were amazing, and Lara and I did the first and last dance in the large company, just watching the rest from the back. Asma had a ball watching us; I think Tahir was trying to suppress some yawns! We changed back, hurriedly, and then left on the bus back to the Broadmoor at 11:15, with Marcus falling asleep with his head on my lap on the bus back. I popped him in the sling when we got off the bus, for the walk back to the room, and he didn’t even wake up when we changed him into his pjs.

 

Sunday, July 24th

By Sunday, I was losing all perspective on days, as well as on the time difference between Boston and Colorado. We slept late, getitng up around 10:00 to shower and join Lara and Wei for the famous Sunday brunch at the Lake Terrace Dining Room just a few doors down from our room. There were gorgeous fat shrimp—Marcus ate ten or eleven of them, I think—and tons of other things, including chocolate fountains. It was delicious but excessive—a lovely treat with excellent service.

Lara and Wei decided to stick around the hotel and relax after brunch, but we drove over to North Cheyenne Canon Park, just about five minutes away. There was a free, really nice visitors’ center with bathrooms, water, and a few interactive exhibits for kids. From there, we drove up the paved road about four miles to Helen Hunt Falls, a small but pretty waterful just twenty feet or so from the parking lot. As the posted signs kept reminding people, you were not supposed to go in the water, because the falls feed directly into the main city water supply. Not everyone was listening, however. Still, Marcus and Robert scrambled around on the rocks for a few minutes, and then we started walking up the 1/3 of a mile trail behind and above the falls to Silver Cascade Falls. Marcus inherited a walking stick from a family going down, but some of the steps—stone or wood—were still a bit too high for him, and he stumbled and scraped his knee a little. After that, he was done—he wanted a band-aid, and he didn’t want to walk anymore, so up he went in the mei tai on my back. We were already at 7400 feet elevation, and after a little exertion—even though it wasn’t an incredibly strenuous hike by most standards—I was feeling short of breath and I was done. I made it 90% of the way up, finally sitting down on a bench to rest and drink a ton of water while Robert and Marcus went up to the top. On the way down, I put Marcus on Robert’s back so Robert would have a hand free to help me—the steep stairs and slippery gravel meant we were actually using Marcus’s walking stick. (I hadn’t brought my hiking boots because they take up too much space in my suitcase, unfortunately.) There was more ominous thunder, too, so we wanted to get down somewhat on the fast side.

From the falls, we drove back toward the Broadmoor and up Old Stage Road to the Broadmoor Stables, about a twenty-five minute drive up an insanely curvy dirt road, steep, no shoulder, many bumps. Marcus laughed uproariously at the curves and bumps on the way. There was still thunder, and there were still some very dark skies, but there was no real rain. I sat in the van, scared of the wandering pigs, dogs, and burros, who would occasionally start chasing each other, while Marcus and Robert explored the stables and a little petting zoo. We were running short on time, though, so we had to cut the visit to the horses short, and we ended up driving back down that crazy road in mud and rain when the skies finally opened.

Back at the room with an exhausted baby, I changed super fast and popped him in the sling; he and I went over to the 5:00 reception while Robert finished showering and dressing, and Marcus was asleep by the time he joined us fifteen minutes later. He slept through the mocktail hour (lovely mixed juices—carrot mango, etc.) and then the vast majority of the actual wedding ceremony. The ceremony itself was beautiful, hysterical, and unique, MCed as it was by Ali, with a Sufi sheik with a good sense of humor and a nice woman Presbyterian minster jointly officiating. Asma, of course, looked amazing when she entered—walking down the aisle by herself, her parents following her—in a gorgeous pink veil.

Then there was another reception, some visiting out on the balcony, and then we found our table assignment—#12, “The Woman in White” (every table was named after a book), a nice round table behind but in the same room as the bridal couple. The dinner and dancing took place in the same rooms we had eaten brunch in, so still just two doors down from our room, which was quite convenient. We sat at a table with Lara and wei and a nice couple from San Francisco who had been on the bus with us the night before, and we all loved the beautiful pink and gold favors and decorations and the excellent meal—from avocado soup to lamb chops! Marcus played with Farrah and two other little girls near our table, dancing around the fountain behind us. Other highlights of the evening included taking a great Wellesley women photograph, talking more to Nila, enjoying the dessert chocolate fountain, and doing the first part of our bridal dance crew song from the night before, albeit not in matching costume this time.

Around 10:45 I took Marcus back to our room, got him changed into something more comfortable, nursed and mellowed him down, and brought him back an hour later in the sling to say goodbye to Asma and Tahir, throwing flowers and coins at them as they rode off in a hotel golf cart to their bridal suite. We said goodnight to Lara and Wei, and to Ali and Mrs. Hasan, and we went off to bed, at the end of a fabulous wedding week.

 

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Created: 7/29/11. Last Modified: 7/29/11.