My Campo Marriage

In the Dominican "campo" (countryside), people have a different idea about what it means to be "married". Since most people can't afford to get married officially by the church, marriage is more of an unplanned event and a lifestyle. The unplanned event being, usually, "amaneciendo" (waking up) in someone else's house (you can guess what that might imply), and the lifestyle being then living with that person and having their kids (although most likely, the male won't feel obligated to having kids exclusively with his "wife"). Once the first thing happens (SEX!!) the expectation is that the couple will live together. So as you can imagine, marriage is even more fun to gossip about in the DR than it is in the US.

So if "maridos" (married people) are people who live together and have sex, then "novios" (boyfriend/girlfriend) are people who like each other but don't live together and definitely don't have sex (ha). Then there is the questionable category of "marinovios", which refers to certain couples from the city or abroad, who strangely seem to think that people are allowed to have sex even if they don't live together and don't have kids together. Crazy idea, right?

Anyway, since I already had a marinovio I don't know if I was still technically allowed to get married to someone else or not. But the men in the community would definitely not have complained if I had decided to get a boyfriend or two from Los Marranitos. In fact, they encouraged me to. This kind of "joking" (that didn't always seem like joking) was ceaseless and took place even in front of the men's wives. "Naomi, when will you leave your boyfriend for me??" was a common greeting as I walked down the "street" (dirt road).

Even small children were pulled into the jokes. When I took small boys to the library, parents got a kick out of teasing them about liking me. One 4-year-old, Elvis, was a little shy and didn't seem to appreciate it very much. But his cousin, Cristofer, was a bit more of a ladies man. When asked if he was in love with me, he just gave a big mischievous smile. When people suggested he hold my hand or give me a kiss on the cheek, he was not shy about it. He was only encouraged by the adults' laughter. And so began an ongoing joke that Cristofer and I were going to get married.

At first, it was just simple teasing by Cristofer's relatives. But then I decided to start playing along. One day I asked him, "Cristofer, when are we going to get married? You keep saying we're going to get married but it never happens." He told me, "Tonight." "What time?" "Ten o'clock." (To an American this might seem late for a marriage, but considering the campo definition of "marriage", it makes sense that it would happen overnight.) Cristofer's older brothers and sisters thought that was hilarious and went around spreading the word that Cristofer and I were going to get married that night at my place. The next day I said, "Cristofer, I was waiting for you at ten o'clock, but you never came! What happened?" He smiled, not knowing what to say. "You better not stand me up tonight, OK?" He agreed.

Once that little game began, the teasing was upped a notch. Adults would say, "Cristofer, here comes your girlfriend, go give her a kiss!" or "Cristofer, you better watch out, she has a boyfriend!" One day when I came walking by his house, Cristofer asked me when it would be his turn to go to the library. Since I didn't know when I'd be able to take him next, I told him, "I'll take you to the library as soon as we get married." The adults of course chuckled, but Cristofer really wanted to go to the library. So he decided to marry me right then and there.

He took my hand and led me into his house. We went through one room and into another that was evidently being used as a storage space. It contained a bike that Angi (a Spanish ceramicist living in the community) had given Cristofer's brother, and a few boxes. Once we were hidden from the view of his family members, he opened his arms wide and I squatted down to give him a hug. Then he gave me a kiss on the cheek. And it was done! We were married. He took my hand and led me outside with a huge smile on his face.

"Now can you take me to the library?"

I was so charmed that I was at the point of taking him alone to the library for a short honeymoon, but his parents did not agree. "Cristofer, you're not going anywhere right now, it's going to rain!" It was clouding up, and there is nothing Los Marranitos parents are more afraid of than their children getting wet. Cristofer started to cry. In an attempt to convince his mother, I told her that Cristofer and I had just gotten married and we were about to go on our honeymoon. The adults in the room were uproarious with laughter. Cristofer stopped crying for a minute and smiled his proud smile.

But then they started to take it a little too far. "You tiguere [player], Cristofer. What is Fermin going to think? Fermin is going to come here and beat you up." Cristofer's face suddenly became serious. Indeed Fermin is much bigger than he, and he was clearly worried. Someone looked out the door and shouted, "Look out, Cristofer! Here comes Fermin!" Cristofer, startled, slid off the lap he was sitting on and went out the door to peer down the road. He didn't see anyone coming, but the unpleasant thought was already in his head. Someone else said, "Cristofer, when Fermin comes, he's going to beat you to a pulp!" Cristofer started crying again.

Once again, the adults of Los Marranitos took a joke way too far for my comfort. And like far too many marriages, mine to a 4-year-old ended in tears.