Uncommon app essays: Lily Taffett

Liminal spaces have always fascinated me. To be in two places, two cultures, two thoughts, but essentially in neither, seemed impossible.

But I was wrong, for when I “crashed” a traditional Cambodian wedding, I was in every sense—liminal.

Deep in the Cambodian countryside, our guide insisted that we pull over. The location seemed desolate, but he was persistent. I peered out the van’s window and saw a small tent draped in curtains so brightly colored and richly textured, as to appear surreal when juxtaposed with the muted earth tones of the countryside.

Following the guide's instructions, I stepped out of the van and continued into the tent.

In that moment, two worlds collided, each undeniably distinct, yet paradoxically indistinguishable—disparate, yet overlapping.

One foot on the dirt path, the other in the carpeted tent, a foreign intruder, yet a welcomed guest.

Seamlessly, I was part of a festive, traditional wedding.

I was enveloped in a vibrant pastiche of silk flowers, saturated tapestries, jeweled garments and intricate furnishings.

I was Lily the American tourist.

I was Lily the accidental Cambodian bridesmaid.

A clueless observer, an active participant.

Both.

Neither.

The events that followed seemed hurried and rehearsed, and I, having strolled in mid-service, was unprepared, yet entirely at ease.

Everyone tacitly assumed their roles.

My mother and father were the photographers.

I was the ritualistic barber, cutting the couple's hair and carefully misting their necks with perfume--a high honor usually entrusted to the ceremony officiant.

It was a whirlwind of unbridled laughter.

A cornucopia of rich pigments.

I was part of something greater than myself.

I was liminal.

I was the end of the individuals' past, the beginning of the couple's future.

I was the barber, closing my sheers onto frayed ends and reopening them to crisp lines, a symbol of the couple’s new beginnings.

It was here, on this threshold, that I found love.

I was welcomed as a participant and honored beyond reason.

But that was the power of the love. It was unconditional. Who I was and who they were was unimportant. For that moment, we disregarded the boundaries that separated our two worlds and allowed ourselves to be enveloped in a sense of togetherness.

The community that allowed for our intrusion

found the same joy in our presence that we found in their acceptance.

Amid two worlds, our love for the moment, for each other, for the twist of events, was mutual.

With the advantage of hindsight and increased maturity, I have come to understand the significance of the love I felt that day.

What I’ve learned is love is a force that triggers and bridges ourliminal spaces, alerting and connecting us to the duality of our separate, yet aligned worlds.

Love is a medium through which our worlds, our cultures and our thoughts become one.

It is a common ground.

It is the middle ground.

Between the dusted pathway and the sumptuous carpet

The tourist and the bridesmaid

The individuals and the couple

The past and the future

The unfamiliar faces and the community

Between them all, in the liminal space, connecting the disparate and making them one, if only for a moment,

There was love

#mexico