Marriage record

1

Jose and I were sitting in a park in Madrid early one morning last winter. It was a very cold day, and I covered myself up to my eyes under my overcoat, with only one hand stretched out to throw crumbs to the sparrows. Jose wore an old anorac and was reading a book on sailing. "Sanmao, what's your big plan for next year?" 'he asked me.

"Nothing special. I want to go to Africa after Easter."

"Morocco? Haven't you been?" 'he asked me again.

"I have been to Algeria, and I want to go to the Sahara Desert next year."

Jose has a great advantage, anything Sanmao does, to others may seem crazy behavior, in his view is taken for granted. So it was a pleasure to be with him.

"And you?" I asked him. "I'm going sailing in the summer, going to school, doing my military service, all at the end of the day." He raised his hand behind his neck. "Where's the boat?" I knew he had wanted a boat for a long time.

"Jesus' father has a sailboat we can borrow. We'll go diving in the Aegean Sea in Greece next year." I trust Jose. He always does what he says he'll do.

"How long are you going to stay in the Sahara? To do what?"

"I must live here for six months or a year! I want to know the desert." I have had this wish since I was a child studying geography.

"Six of us going sailing, including you, will we be back in August?" I pulled my coat off my nose and looked at him excitedly. "I don't know anything about ships. What do you want me to do?" He sounded very happy.

"Do you want to be cook and photographer, and take care of my money?"

"Of course I want to, but I'm afraid I can't come back in August when I'm in the desert. I want to do both." I want to catch fish and eat bear's feet.

Jose is a little unhappy, shouted: "Know so long, you always run here and there, finally I finished the military service, you have to go alone, when can be with you?" Jose seldom complained about me. I gave him a strange look and threw the crumbs into the distance. When he spoke so loudly, the sparrows flew away.

"You really insist on going to the desert?" He asked me again.

I gave a heavy nod. I knew exactly what I had to do.

"Good." He said this word angrily, and went to read again. Jose usually talks a lot and is very annoying, but he never talks when it really matters.

Unexpectedly, in early February this year, Jose quietly applied for a job (right in front of the Sahara desert looking for trouble). He packed his bags and went to Africa before I did. I wrote to tell him: "You really don't have to suffer in the desert for me, and even if I did, I would be travelling most of the time and not seeing you very often." Jose wrote back to me: "I think very clearly, to keep you in my side, only to marry you, otherwise my heart will never be able to relieve this feeling of pain. Shall we get married in the summer?" It was plain, but I read it about ten times, then stuffed it in my pants pocket, went for an evening walk down the street, and came back determined. In the middle of April of this year, I packed up my things, returned my house in Madrid, and went to the Sahara Desert. That night Jose stayed in the dormitory of the company where he worked. I lived in the small town of Ayong, which was nearly a hundred miles away and back, but Jose came to see me every day. "Well, now you can get married." He was happy and radiant.

'Not now. Give me three months. I'll look around, and then we'll get married when I come back.' I was looking for a chance to be taken all the way across the desert to West Africa by the Saharawai.

"I promise you that, but I must go to the court and ask about the formalities, and you add the question of naturalization." We agreed on my two nationalities after marriage.

So we went to the local courthouse and asked how to get married. The secretary, a Spanish gentleman with white hair, said, "Are you getting married? Well, we haven't done that yet, and you know it's the custom of the Saharawai to get married here. Let me look in the law books -- "he said as he read:" A civil marriage, ah, here it is -- well, birth certificate, single certificate, residence certificate, court proclamation certificate... The documents of the lady will be sent out of Taiwan, then translated and certified by the Chinese Legation in Portugal, then notarized by the Spanish Consulate in Portugal, and then approved by the Spanish Ministry of Foreign Affairs. After the verification, we will announce it for 15 days, and then send it to the court in Madrid where you used to be registered... "

I don't like to fill in the form to do formalities, listen to the secretary Mr. So read, the first tired up, gently to Jose said: "You see, too many procedures, so tired, we want to get married?" "Yes. Don't talk now!" He was very nervous. Then he asked his secretary, "How soon can we get married?"

"Why, ask yourselves! When the papers are complete, you can announce them. It will take a month to announce them in two places. Besides, when the papers come and go, I think three months will do." The secretary closed the book slowly.

He wiped his sweat and stammered to his secretary: "Please help, can't you hurry? I think the sooner we get married, the better. We can't wait." Then the secretary put his books on the shelf and glanced quickly at my waist. I was very sensitive and knew immediately that he had misunderstood what Jose said. I said quickly, "Mr. Secretary, it doesn't matter how fast I go. It's him who has the problem." As soon as he had finished, he found it even more absurd.

Jose twisted my fingers and said to the secretary, "Thank you, thank you, we'll get on with it, goodbye, goodbye." When he had finished, he took me flying down to the third floor of the courthouse, giggling as I ran, until we stopped running outside. "Why do you say I have a problem? Am I pregnant?" Jose shouted angrily. I laughed too hard to answer him.

2

Three months passed quickly. Jose worked hard to make money during this time, while making furniture and bringing some of his things to my place every day. I took my backpack and camera, went to many nomadic tents, saw many different and colorful and strange customs, wrote notes and organized slides, made many Saharawai friends, and even began to learn Arabic. The days were fruitful and pleasant. Of course, we are the most active in applying for the documents needed for marriage, this thing is the most annoying, now think back to have a high fever.

It was hot. I rented a mailbox in the post office because there was no door sign. Every day I had to walk for an hour or so to the town to read letters. I have been here for three months, and I know most of the people in this town, especially the post office and the courthouse, because I have become friends by going there every day. I sat in the courthouse again that day, and the heat was unbearably burning. The secretary said to me, "Well, at last the Madrid Proclamation is over. You can get married." "Really? I can't believe this paper war is over.

"I've arranged the day for you." The secretary smiled and said.

'When? I asked him quickly.

'Six o 'clock tomorrow afternoon.' "Tomorrow? You mean tomorrow?" I sounded incredulous and unhappy.

The old secretary was a little angry, like I was an ungrateful person. He said: "Jose did not say to hurry, to hurry?" "Yes, thank you. We'll come tomorrow." I sleepwalked downstairs and sat down on the stone steps of the post office, staring into the desert.

Then I saw the driver of the Hoshi Company passing by in his jeep. I ran up to him and called, "Mohammad Shari, are you going to the company? Give me a message to Jose. Tell him he'll marry me tomorrow, and tell him to come to town after work."

Mohammed Shari scratched his head and asked me in surprise, "Didn't Mr. Hosi know today that he was getting married tomorrow?"

I shouted back, "He doesn't know, and neither do I." The driver listened and looked at me, showing good fear, the car crooked away. I just realized I've put my foot in my mouth again. He must have thought I was crazy waiting to get married.

Jose didn't wait to get off work. He flew right in. "Is it really tomorrow? 'he asked, incredulous, as he entered.

"It's true. Come on, let's telegraph home." I took him and went out again.

"I'm sorry to give you such short notice. We didn't know we were going to be married tomorrow. Jose's telegram looked like a letter.

I, with the father's telegram registered, then write: "tomorrow married thirty hair." Just a few words. I knew how comforting and gratifying it was for my parents to receive the telegram. I was the prodigal son who had made them suffer for so many years. I'm sorry for them.

"Well, what are you going to wear tomorrow?" Jose asked me.

"I don't know yet. Just put it on." I'm still wondering.

"I forgot to ask for leave. I have to work tomorrow." Jose sounded a little annoyed.

"Come on, the wedding isn't until six o 'clock in the afternoon, so you'll be back from work an hour early." I guess people who get married on the same day can go to work.

"What do we do now? The telegram has been sent." He looked dull that day.

"Go back to the furniture. The table is not nailed up yet. I still have half the curtains." I can't figure out why Jose seems a little off.

"Do you have to work the night before your wedding?" Looks like he wants to celebrate early, be lazy. "What do you want to do?" I asked him.

"Want to take you to the movies, tomorrow you won't be my girlfriend."

So we went to the only fifth-rate desert cinema to see a good movie, Zoppa, and counted our days as singletons.