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January 14, 2008

Wedding Season

Partway through lunch one day we heard a commotion of honking cars out on the street. The restaurant staff went to the windows to check it out so we left our table to do the same, out to the balcony to look down on the street two stories below. “Oh, it’s a wedding,” said David, and indeed it was—a bride and a groom stood in the bed of a pick-up which was making its way slowly up the road, the man in a black tuxedo to the left and the woman in a traditional white dress to the right. The bride’s train spilled over almost onto the pavement.

That same night, the restaurant and lounge upstairs in my hotel was shut down for a wedding party, and one was just one their way in or out in the Ras Amba when I went over to meet up with Tim and the others. I thought it rude, but after walking by them and seeing how beautiful they were, all decked out and amped up, I did it: I turned around and walked back and asked if I could take their picture. And they said yes.

The woman behind the bride in the black and gold dress, by the way, was tickled to see that she’d made it into the photo, and the bride was pissed.

Posted by beth at January 14, 2008 8:43 PM

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