I wake up dressed as a Samoan princess. The tribal leaders are sitting around me in a rickety caravan as well. Our backs are up against the bamboo walls, legs are crossed, and attitudes are that we just need to get where we needed to go. I'm still rather confused why I'm in a caravan full of Samoan royalty anyway.
As I slowly move towards the center of my caravan, a random girl beside me gives me this off-putting vibe. It's like she despises me for some particular reason. I look back at her and ask,
"Hoy. You there. You have a problem with me or what?"
She looks back at me unblinkingly, and rolls her eyes away.
I was getting a little irritated now. I ask again,
"Hey, chick. If you have a problem with me, I'm more than welcome and ready to get whatever it is you have against me out in the air."
Now she crosses her arms, and looks away. Instead of replying in defense, she leans over to her boyfriend's ear and whispers something. Something set off in me. When I looked over to the boyfriend, he looked so familiar. I couldn't recognize his face, but his voice was familiar. I felt a sad vibe from him as he looked away from his catty girlfriend. She was looking away still when he just gave me a weak smile of "sorry." I was just whatever about it by then.
I guess the reason I was still moving about in the caravan, I was trying to find some water. My lips were very dry and it seemed they had to put the cooler the farthest distance for all of us. A big red cooler with a white top, I go up to it and grab a nice cold bottle of water and take a swig. I feel less cranky already.
Moving back over to my spot, I can see the village elder, a large man about twenty-five, trying to negotiate a marriage treaty with one of the prettiest girls from their village. She was not giving in. He kept saying how he can match her up with the wealthiest suitor, and that she would be well provided for, but she kept declining. Her ploy was that in her life, she did not want to make the mistake of marrying for money. She wanted someone who truly loved her, didn't take her for granted, and worked together with her to strive at having a happy home and family life. The elder was like, "Well, those are all great attributes in a future husband, but how can you two be happy if you both are struggling financially? If he cannot provide a roof over your head, or food for your table, that burden will eventually turn into disapproval. That disapproval into hate. It is better to find someone who has the main goods of providing for you, and then building that kind of relationship on top of that."
The girl thought about it for a second. But then looked at the elder and declared, "You have valid points, your grandness. Although, I still would like to find my own husband who I'll deem will be the best for me, regardless if he is well endowed or not. Please respect my decision." The elder looked flustered.
I watched from the distance and didn't expect this next event happening.
The elder huffed in apparent frustration and grabbed the girl's hand in his. She looked up at him in annoyance, as he in bended knee asked her for her hand in marriage. The girl was confused as I was and politely declined. I couldn't help but laugh behind my hand, watching the elder fluster and fumble over her.
Meanwhile, I could hear my family, Ryan, Mom, Dexter and Frankie in the caravan behind us. They seem to be having the time of their lives. As I looked behind me through the tiny window, I heard the drivers declare we were finally at our destination.
I get out of the caravan first. We are at some megamall. The concrete structure with its angular design sort of threw me off. We came all this way to a megamall? For what?
It turns out; we were invited to the grand opening of this new fashion line. The store resembled something like a mix of H & M with American Apparel. I was excited to finally change out of my grass shirt and cotton wrap top.
Walking around the place, everyone seemed to be dressed so sharply. My parents were having fun taking pictures with the mannequins, of whom I was, their photographer. I was a little upset they weren't letting me wander around and have fun as well. I hand someone my Sony cyber shot camera to a person my brothers were hanging out with and just get away from the group. As I walked away, I looked up at stylish bomber jackets, and lots of neon colored leggings on perfectly sculpted mannequins. I decided to just get out of that mass of people and sit on top of a counter overlooking everything.
That's when I saw someone very familiar. He called me by my nickname, "Shelley!" It was awkward hearing him call me that for the first time. I'm used to my friends calling me formerly by Michelle. As he walked over to me, I noticed he had on a bright pink t-shirt, and a nice black sports jacket. His hair wasn't made up like usual, but he looked happy to be here. I wave at him and ask him what's up.
"Hey, how the heck did you get here? How'd you get an invitation anyway?" He just laughs and always says, "Cuz I'm special like that, duh." I laugh with him and as I'm looking away over him and the crowd towards the people tagging their names on the walls, he grabs me by my waist and decides to hug me very close and twirl me at the same time.
I'm alarmed at his candor. A bit afraid of what might ensue after this, I made sure my face wasn't facing his, just in case he might try a romantic move. The moment my feet touched the ground, I pushed him away, my face full of confusion and hurt, and moved away hastily. I went up to the back wall everyone was tagging on, and decided to write my name as well.
As I was up there with my black marker pen, signing my signature, he comes up next to and signs his name as well. He decides to put a heart over his name and draw an arrow towards my name. I look at him in annoyance and move to another part of the wall. This time it's the only spot left available for tagging. A blank corner. I decided to write my favorite lyrics down. Just as I was going to start, he comes over again, and instead, writes down his favorite lyrics. All I can remember was that it involved something about me being his "depression-era". I got mad and finally stood up to him. I was about to yell at him about why he kept pestering me, but a hostess beside me whispers in my ear. It was as if she knew what was going on without needing to know the past...
"Honey, you are the only one who can decide how things will go. If you want this to work out, leave those lyrics up there. If you don't then do what you believe is best only for you."
I thought about it. Although I know that doing what I was going to do would break his heart forever, I took an orange marker and scribbled out his lyrics in front of him. I scribbled out my name and the hearts he put. Done with my erasing. I turn around to find everyone was leaving. I went to grab my angry little girl's heart bag, retrieve my borrowed camera, and headed back home with my caravan of Samoans. (1:20pm Nov. 1, 2009)
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