our last official day in oaxaca was saturday. after spending the morning power shopping at the mercado and missing two buses, callista and i boarded the 2PM autobus that would deliver us to the TAPO bus station in mexico city at 8:30PM - exactly half an hour before the wedding was scheduled to begin.
the morning market shopping and the six and a half hours on the bus had left us disheveled, sweaty, and tired, but upon arriving at TAPO, we grabbed our luggage and scrambled to find the taxis. the driver told us to lock our doors as we would be passing through some "disagreeable" neighborhoods, but we did arrive in good time at the holiday inn near the zocalo.
our check-in was made slightly frenetic by visions of mexican women speaking english and dressed in evening gowns hailing taxis to - what one of the bellboys told me was - a wedding. callista and i bounded up the stairs (ok, really we just took the elevator, but i'm sure i pushed the button more than once) to our room on the fifth floor where we proceeded to tear open our suitcases and makeup bags frantically trying to simultaneously wash and dress up. we emerged from the hotel about twenty minutes later looking surprisingly well put together.
the wedding was held at the museo de josé luis cuevas, an amazing colonial-style building right off the zocalo with an enormous patio and two stories of brightly painted orange-red walls. we drank cocktails, socialized with friends from texas, partook of a delicious dinner, danced and had a wonderful time celebrating gilbert and kora’s marriage.
feeling the weight of the day upon us, callista and i retired relatively early (~1AM) while the party was still in full swing. panic, however, set in on the way home in the taxi when i discovered my wallet missing from my purse.
callista, my wallet isn’t in my purse, i told her, feeling my stomach churn.
let's go back to the wedding.
the taxi driver, informing us that this is going to cost us more money, turns his cab around. distressed and thinking about how i'm going to manage without money for the next couple of days, i tell the security guard that i've lost my wallet. we search underneath our table to see if it’s fallen on the ground. it hasn’t. viriginia and tom tell us that they haven’t seen it either. tears begin to well up in my eyes as virginia assures me that i'll be ok. it’ll just be a matter of canceling credit cards tomorrow, but i am safe and i still have photo ID and will be able to board my flight back to california. i nod, still crying a little. yes, i know. I know.
making our way to the exit, callista and i are met by the museum manager, who seems almost as distressed as i am. i assure you, we only hire the most trustworthy people here… are you sure the wallet did not fall out in the taxi? he sends employees to search the cab. they return empty handed.
he asks if i want him to make an announcement over the microphone. i glance over the dancefloor and see everyone smiling and twirling, laughing. no, i tell him, i do not want to ruin this wedding.
the wedding won’t be ruined.
no, i say again.
the manager tells me that he’ll have his staff look around. i tell him that we’ll go back to the hotel to make sure i didn’t inadvertently take it out of my purse before leaving. i hope it’s there, i tell him.
here is my card, he tells me. please call to let me know if you find it there or not.
i am sullen on the way back to the hotel while callista murmurs comforting words to me. we turn the lights on in our room and see everything as we have left it. clothes strewn all over the beds, makeup littering the bathroom counters. i see my passport next to a pile of clothes on my bed and just underneath it, my wallet.
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