The Hugarian Society in my community holds an annual debutant ball for the girls coming of age. They never saw my Chinese boyfriend, "Harold", and little irish-y me coming, that's for sure.
In high school, I had, among many other interests, a little business playing violin duets with another student. Let's call her Aggie. Aggie's family were hungarian; her father a handsome violinist and her mother an exotic gypsy, complete with flowy clothes and a crystal ball (More about Aggie's mom in my Frozen Music Post). We would play for open houses, dinners or even a wedding for a few bucks' pocket change. Almost all of our gigs were for the Hungarian Society, who were very proud of Aggie's mad skills. After a while, they started to see me as part of the family and invited me to participate in the society's annual debutant ball. My boyfriend, Harold took some convincing, but agreed and our crazy Hungarian deb season began.
Every weekend, we were expected to attend dance classes. The first time we walked in, we felt like such misfits! We tried desperately to learn formal court dances and waltzes, including the classic Hungarian chadash. We were terrible. Harold was second worst in the class, and I was the worst. Instead of rescinding the invitation, they just helped us more. Every week we showed up, and finally were excited for the ball.
When the big day arrived, we were ready. I looked the part; a hungarian classmate who had debbed the previous year lent me her dress. It was a gorgeous, princess-style dress with a full skirt, off the shoulder puffed sleeves and a boned bodice, all in pure white satin. A crown, long white gloves and white shoes completed the look. I felt like a storybook princess. Harold was decked out in a tux and his fishing hat that he wore every day, which thankfully was removed for the main events. He looked so handsome.
The ball was held at a party center, complete with a color guard with swords, a sit down meal, formal dances by all the girls, their fathers and their escorts. I'm sure we were quite the sight, the little pasty Irish girl with her Chinese boyfriend. No one batted an eyelash. We were accepted, just as we were, and never felt like the interlopers we certainly were. What generous people they were to allow us to share in their rich heritage for one lovely evening.
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