Serenade

The first time I heard a real live serenade with mariachis was about 20 years ago, at my grandmother´s previous house. That house was wonderful, in the neighborhood we had shops nearby to buy popsicles and chocolates, my first visit to a public library happened there and it had a great balcony with wooden balustrades that matched the turned wood detailing on the windows.

One night at midnight, the blare of trumpets woke us up. My grandmother rushed through our room and started peeking out the window. On the house across ours we could see the young man with a van full of mariachis behind him, standing in the driveway, hopefully looking up to see if a light would go on.

When a serenade takes place, it is common knowledge, or so my mother says, that no lights should be turned on in the neighboring houses. It adds to the drama. You see, when a woman receives a serenade, she can look outside her window with the lights turned off and see who has brought the music without people knowing she´s looking out. If it´s someone she wants to encourage, forgive or what not, then she turns on the lights to her room and it is understood that she is satisfied with the gift or peace offering, depending on what the case is.

This time, she turned on the lights and walked out on her balcony wearing an old fashioned night gown in shiny fabric. He asked her to come down, her parents stayed up in the balcony, and when she walked out he went down on his knees, asking for her hand in marriage.

For years I wondered when anyone would come and serenade me, thinking it was the most romantic thing someone could do for the person they love. A couple of nights ago, the blare of trumpets raised me from the computer, and I ran over to a window. The van was parked, violins were being played and trumpets blown on, however, the mariachis were quickly wisked inside the apartment building beside mine, and several other people peering from their windows in different apartments had to get back inside a bit dissappointed.

I wonder what the modern equivalent to serenades is in this modern world. The mariachi dream became quickly tarnished as they were brought up in almost every social event I had growing up. I never lay in bed thinking about marriage and proposals and romantic dates, with the firm superstition that thinking about stuff jinxes it, I go used to not thinking about it.

So better yet, I wonder what MY modern equivalent to the serenata mariachi is.