Festina Lente

This post has nothing to do with Peru and is dedicated entirely to my cousin Harris and his new bride Betsy.

Some of my fondest childhood memories are of spending time with the Newmans on the Jersey shore. BBQs at the house, July 4th at Tak, catch on the lawn, and merciless pillow fights in the den. Of course the best times were when the entire extended family showed up (always unbeknownst to Aunt Nancy until 30 minutes before) and we somehow squeezed everyone in the house at 3 Green Terrace for a feast to end all feasts. I am the third oldest cousin on my Mom’s side of the family, after Harris and Ryan. Since they were always bigger and older than me, Harris and Ryan would do really cute ‘cousin-y’ things like hold me down and fart in my face, or ‘forget’ to look for me when we would play hide and seek at the beach. As of late, the camaraderie has manifested itself by way of continually pointing out my lack of ability to ride waves, and my knack for missing the ‘wave of the day’.

Harris moved to DC when he was a freshman in college. He was always over at the house, usually sleeping off a hangover, or having help with his homework. He became a lot more like a big brother in those years which brought mostly pros, but had its few cons as well. One in particular that comes to mind is the time he showed up at the restaurant where my homecoming date had taken me to spy on us and check up on my date. He was always looking out for me though, and I’m proud to say that he has the bitchy teenager stamp of approval. It was a lot of fun having him around and he even served as the ‘grown-up chaperone’ for one of my parties so he definitely had his uses.

I think I had my uses as well; there was a time when a girl who lived in Harris’ apartment building really liked him and he was completely uninterested. She came by unannounced one time when I was staying over, so he introduced her to me, I stepped out to use the restroom, and while I was gone Harris used the opportunity to tell her that his cousin didn’t like her at all and she had to leave and never come back. I remember the day before Harris met Betsy; we were out to dinner in NYC for our birthdays and he was telling me about a date he had the next day. About a month or two later I was back in New Jersey for some beach time and Harris brought Betsy to Tak where we met for the first time. We clicked from the get-go, and bonded over a political debate one evening in the Newman household where we stood together as proud defenders of all things liberal.

I love my cousin like a brother, and couldn’t be happier to see him with such a loving, strong, kind and intelligent woman. I feel lucky enough to have gained Betsy as a friend, I can’t believe we also get her as part of the family. My one regret in joining peace corps and heading down to Peru is that I cannot be there to celebrate with you guys. I hope you like your gift – the pottery comes from a small group based up in the mountains of Piura, Peru. For now you’ll have to settle for a photo because I am too poor to ship the ceramics back to the states in a manner that ensures their safe arrival, but they’ll get there soon enough.