We had agreed not to... ahem, consummate our union... until after the religious ceremony in the temple, which was to take place in South Africa 12 days after our wedding.
(I know, I probably should have prefaced that with a TMI warning. Weeeeeelcome to my very personal, personal life. Have a seat on my bed, make yourself at home!)
My point is, the days following our wedding were difficult in a pretty unique way.
Imagine: You have just married the love of your life. It is safe to say you are really into each other. The two of you are staying — alone, together — in an apartment with not a whole lot in the way of time-consuming distractions. For nearly two weeks. You are sharing a bed, a bathroom and life's little intimacies, like tandem tooth-brushing, for the first time. But you cannot, will not, dare not sample the goods, 'cause you made. a. commitment, dagnabit!
I clearly don't need to spell it out for my fellow hot-blooded brothers and sisters out there, but for those of you who have completely conquered the natural man: 1) Congratulations, that's impressive; 2) T-O-R-T-U-R-E, T-O-R-M-E-N-T, S-U-F-F-E-R-I-N-G. In short, T-H-I-R-S-T-Y. See also unintentional masochism.
Aaaaaanyway.
We had a calm and quiet Christmas. Steve's parents and sisters joined us to open stockings on Christmas Eve and we joined the family for a laidback gathering at my mother-in-law's mom's house on Christmas day, then capped it all off with video calls to my family back home in Canada before packing for our Boxing Day flight to Johannesburg.
We were so excited about our first big trip as a couple, and over the moon about being able to go to the temple. Knowing that we would likely be spending many months apart after our wedding as we made our way through the immigration process, it was really important for us to be "sealed" in the temple; to draw closer to God as a couple, to continue to build the foundation of our relationship on the rock of the Gospel and to have a well of hope and strength from which to draw when the inevitable challenges and pain of our involuntary separation reared their ugly heads. It would also provide a sense of hope and security knowing that if (heaven forbid) anything happened to either one of us in the meantime, our marriage was eternal.
Let me explain.
As members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we believe that the bonds of marriage can last much longer than "till death do us part". We believe that families can be together forever, here and in the life to come, or heaven, if you will. However, eternal marriage (or "sealing", as we call it) is an ordinance (a sacred ceremony) that can only be performed in specific locations (temples) by specific people (authorized priesthood holders).
(Check out this video, Mormon Marriages Made Simple if you are curious to know more.)
Timing is also a factor. In North America, where temples can be found in most major cities, a temple marriage doubles as a legal marriage. If couples opt to get married civilly (i.e. outside the temple), they must wait one year before they can be sealed in the temple. In other areas of the world, where temples are more sparsely located, or where local law requires civil marriage in a publicly accessible location, couples have a short window of time immediately afterward in which they may travel to a temple for their sealing ordinance, or else they, too, must wait a year.
Cameroon does not yet have a temple, so we had the option to travel to a temple after our civil ceremony. Still, getting there would require a big investment of time and resources, and it would not be easy.
Like everything else about our wedding, getting the arrangements in place for South Africa was a whole to-do. Initially we hoped to go right after the wedding, before Christmas, but the person we wanted to officiate was going to be in the States over the holidays, returning on the 26th. At the outset, we also planned to take advantage of being there to squeeze in a sort of mini-honeymoon. But things being what they were, we would not be able to fit in more than two and a half days in Joburg.
Steve and his parents (who were coming along as our witnesses) needed visas, which required an invitation letter from the temple. (Mercifully, the value of the Canadian passport kicked in, making it a breeze for me.) Cameroon falls within the boundaries of the Nigerian temple district, so since South Africa is so much further from Cameroon than neighbouring Nigeria, the South African coordinators pushed back. But since I would require a visa for Nigeria and that would be much more difficult (read: impossible) to acquire from within Cameroon on a short timeframe, they eventually acquiesced.
Still, by the time I arrived in Cameroon in December, it wasn't clear if Steve and my in-laws would be granted visas. The South African embassy had recently denied other church members vias for similar religious trips. Between that and the logistics (visas had to be picked up in person in the capital city, five hours from where Steve's family lives in Douala, and the embassy would soon be closing for the Christmas break), this provided a strong daily dose of cortisol right up until the day before our wedding. Fortunately, we were still in Yaounde when we got word that they were approved (tender mercies!!) and Steve was able to pick up the passports and visas before we returned to Douala.
Then came the fun of booking flights and accommodations on short notice. We had a pitifully small window to work within since the temple was closed until the 27th and my return flight from Cameroon to Canada was on the 30th. Steve and his parents were having their travel arrangements coordinated through temple patron assistance, but I had to make my own separate arrangements. After a lot of hunting, I had to consider myself lucky to get myself onto three out of four of the same flights as them. The temple housing was also already fully booked, so we were assigned rooms in a budget hotel offsite.
We landed in Johannesburg in the indecent hours of December 27 and were driven to our hotel by a tall, friendly man in a season-incongruous puffy yellow jacket. I was a little taken aback as we sped along the smooth freeway, lined with massive, brightly-lit billboards. I knew the infrastructure would reflect a greater degree of development than a lot of African cities, and certainly the ones I was familiar with, but I guess what really surprised me was that the vibe was much more North American than European.
Upon arrival at our hotel, Steve and I clambered up to our room, tired but wired. Steve tapped the card at the door and gestured me in ahead of him. I shuffled in, past the toilet, walled off by a tiny doored enclosure to the left of the entrance, and the glass shower stall sitting just beyond it. This was separated from the bed by just a small sink and mirror protruding in the middle of the room. The opposite side of this island had a shelf within reaching distance of the bed, a twin-sized platform jutting out from the wall with a single-wide bunk hanging perpendicular overhead. A full-length mirror was fixed to the wall, a little offset from the foot of the bed. A thick TV was mounted in the corner and a large square window looked out over the parking lot.
Hmmm, no table, no drawers, no closet, no chair... but oh, look, a hook, at least, I thought as I set my stuff down and took it all in. The only real disappointment is no tub. I could really go for a hot bath!
Not to mention a tub's other's recreational values, I joked to myself as my mind shifted to the dubious distinction this room would retain in my memories hereafter. My glance shifted automatically back to the bed. I plopped down on the institutional mattress, noting that its comfort level ranked somewhere between a hospital bed and a camping foamie, and had a vivid flashback of the vinyl pad I'd slept on in my UNBC dorm room.
Well, it's clean and functional, anyway. But romantic? Hard no, not in the slightest! Once again, not quite what I once imagined, I thought with a wry smile.
But hey, if you learned anything from our wedding story it's that we would certainly make do.
We settled in, ironed our outfits for the temple and hung them on the lonely hook, a little before 3:30 a.m. Our ride to the temple was due at 9 a.m. so we were in for another short night.
(I know, I probably should have prefaced that with a TMI warning. Weeeeeelcome to my very personal, personal life. Have a seat on my bed, make yourself at home!)
My point is, the days following our wedding were difficult in a pretty unique way.
Imagine: You have just married the love of your life. It is safe to say you are really into each other. The two of you are staying — alone, together — in an apartment with not a whole lot in the way of time-consuming distractions. For nearly two weeks. You are sharing a bed, a bathroom and life's little intimacies, like tandem tooth-brushing, for the first time. But you cannot, will not, dare not sample the goods, 'cause you made. a. commitment, dagnabit!
I clearly don't need to spell it out for my fellow hot-blooded brothers and sisters out there, but for those of you who have completely conquered the natural man: 1) Congratulations, that's impressive; 2) T-O-R-T-U-R-E, T-O-R-M-E-N-T, S-U-F-F-E-R-I-N-G. In short, T-H-I-R-S-T-Y. See also unintentional masochism.
Aaaaaanyway.
We had a calm and quiet Christmas. Steve's parents and sisters joined us to open stockings on Christmas Eve and we joined the family for a laidback gathering at my mother-in-law's mom's house on Christmas day, then capped it all off with video calls to my family back home in Canada before packing for our Boxing Day flight to Johannesburg.
We were so excited about our first big trip as a couple, and over the moon about being able to go to the temple. Knowing that we would likely be spending many months apart after our wedding as we made our way through the immigration process, it was really important for us to be "sealed" in the temple; to draw closer to God as a couple, to continue to build the foundation of our relationship on the rock of the Gospel and to have a well of hope and strength from which to draw when the inevitable challenges and pain of our involuntary separation reared their ugly heads. It would also provide a sense of hope and security knowing that if (heaven forbid) anything happened to either one of us in the meantime, our marriage was eternal.
Let me explain.
As members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we believe that the bonds of marriage can last much longer than "till death do us part". We believe that families can be together forever, here and in the life to come, or heaven, if you will. However, eternal marriage (or "sealing", as we call it) is an ordinance (a sacred ceremony) that can only be performed in specific locations (temples) by specific people (authorized priesthood holders).
(Check out this video, Mormon Marriages Made Simple if you are curious to know more.)
Timing is also a factor. In North America, where temples can be found in most major cities, a temple marriage doubles as a legal marriage. If couples opt to get married civilly (i.e. outside the temple), they must wait one year before they can be sealed in the temple. In other areas of the world, where temples are more sparsely located, or where local law requires civil marriage in a publicly accessible location, couples have a short window of time immediately afterward in which they may travel to a temple for their sealing ordinance, or else they, too, must wait a year.
Cameroon does not yet have a temple, so we had the option to travel to a temple after our civil ceremony. Still, getting there would require a big investment of time and resources, and it would not be easy.
Like everything else about our wedding, getting the arrangements in place for South Africa was a whole to-do. Initially we hoped to go right after the wedding, before Christmas, but the person we wanted to officiate was going to be in the States over the holidays, returning on the 26th. At the outset, we also planned to take advantage of being there to squeeze in a sort of mini-honeymoon. But things being what they were, we would not be able to fit in more than two and a half days in Joburg.
Steve and his parents (who were coming along as our witnesses) needed visas, which required an invitation letter from the temple. (Mercifully, the value of the Canadian passport kicked in, making it a breeze for me.) Cameroon falls within the boundaries of the Nigerian temple district, so since South Africa is so much further from Cameroon than neighbouring Nigeria, the South African coordinators pushed back. But since I would require a visa for Nigeria and that would be much more difficult (read: impossible) to acquire from within Cameroon on a short timeframe, they eventually acquiesced.
Still, by the time I arrived in Cameroon in December, it wasn't clear if Steve and my in-laws would be granted visas. The South African embassy had recently denied other church members vias for similar religious trips. Between that and the logistics (visas had to be picked up in person in the capital city, five hours from where Steve's family lives in Douala, and the embassy would soon be closing for the Christmas break), this provided a strong daily dose of cortisol right up until the day before our wedding. Fortunately, we were still in Yaounde when we got word that they were approved (tender mercies!!) and Steve was able to pick up the passports and visas before we returned to Douala.
Then came the fun of booking flights and accommodations on short notice. We had a pitifully small window to work within since the temple was closed until the 27th and my return flight from Cameroon to Canada was on the 30th. Steve and his parents were having their travel arrangements coordinated through temple patron assistance, but I had to make my own separate arrangements. After a lot of hunting, I had to consider myself lucky to get myself onto three out of four of the same flights as them. The temple housing was also already fully booked, so we were assigned rooms in a budget hotel offsite.
We landed in Johannesburg in the indecent hours of December 27 and were driven to our hotel by a tall, friendly man in a season-incongruous puffy yellow jacket. I was a little taken aback as we sped along the smooth freeway, lined with massive, brightly-lit billboards. I knew the infrastructure would reflect a greater degree of development than a lot of African cities, and certainly the ones I was familiar with, but I guess what really surprised me was that the vibe was much more North American than European.
Upon arrival at our hotel, Steve and I clambered up to our room, tired but wired. Steve tapped the card at the door and gestured me in ahead of him. I shuffled in, past the toilet, walled off by a tiny doored enclosure to the left of the entrance, and the glass shower stall sitting just beyond it. This was separated from the bed by just a small sink and mirror protruding in the middle of the room. The opposite side of this island had a shelf within reaching distance of the bed, a twin-sized platform jutting out from the wall with a single-wide bunk hanging perpendicular overhead. A full-length mirror was fixed to the wall, a little offset from the foot of the bed. A thick TV was mounted in the corner and a large square window looked out over the parking lot.
Hmmm, no table, no drawers, no closet, no chair... but oh, look, a hook, at least, I thought as I set my stuff down and took it all in. The only real disappointment is no tub. I could really go for a hot bath!
Not to mention a tub's other's recreational values, I joked to myself as my mind shifted to the dubious distinction this room would retain in my memories hereafter. My glance shifted automatically back to the bed. I plopped down on the institutional mattress, noting that its comfort level ranked somewhere between a hospital bed and a camping foamie, and had a vivid flashback of the vinyl pad I'd slept on in my UNBC dorm room.
Well, it's clean and functional, anyway. But romantic? Hard no, not in the slightest! Once again, not quite what I once imagined, I thought with a wry smile.
But hey, if you learned anything from our wedding story it's that we would certainly make do.
We settled in, ironed our outfits for the temple and hung them on the lonely hook, a little before 3:30 a.m. Our ride to the temple was due at 9 a.m. so we were in for another short night.
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