Tossing rice at weddings is done to ensure prosperity and fertility

Setting:
A café terrace in Seville, late afternoon. The two friends are sipping coffee and watching a wedding celebration at a nearby church. The newlyweds are walking out to a flurry of rice tossed by their family and friends.

---

Lucía: (beaming)
¡Mira, Sofía! Just look at that! The rice shower! That’s how you start a life together—prosperity, fertility, abundance! I love weddings.

Sofía: (grinning)
I think you just love any excuse to throw carbs at people.

Lucía:
Oh come on, don’t ruin it with your science goggles. Tossing rice is a blessing. It dates back centuries. It brings good luck. Everyone knows that!

Sofía: (raising an eyebrow)
Everyone also thought the Earth was flat, Lucía. Tradition doesn’t always equal truth. I mean, you know rice can’t magically make you fertile, right? If that were the case, my pantry would be a fertility clinic.

Lucía: (laughing)
¡Qué tonta eres! No one thinks it’s literal! It’s symbolic. When you shower the couple in rice, you’re showering them in wishes for a rich and fertile life—like sowing seeds.

Sofía:
Exactly. It’s a symbol. But people treat it like a superstition that actually causes outcomes. You remember cousin María? Showered in rice at her wedding. Two years later—divorced and allergic to carbs.

Lucía:
Ugh, that’s just bad luck. Maybe someone forgot to use uncooked rice. You can’t mess with the ritual.

Sofía: (smirking)
So now the cooking state of the rice matters? Should we consult a rice shaman?

Lucía:
Very funny. But honestly, why do you always have to debunk things? Can’t we just enjoy the mystery?

Sofía:
I do enjoy the mystery! But I also enjoy asking why. Look, I get the emotional value. Rituals can be beautiful. But they shouldn’t make people believe outcomes depend on them. That’s how people end up anxious or blaming themselves for stuff they can’t control.

Lucía:
So you think I’m delusional?

Sofía:
Not at all. I think you’re passionate and love meaning in life. But don’t you think it’s more empowering to believe your future depends on your choices—not the trajectory of airborne grains?

Lucía:
(Sighs) Maybe. But sometimes I just want to believe the universe is cheering us on. Like, when my abuela tossed rice at my parents—they had five kids and a farm that thrived for decades. Coincidence?

Sofía:
Statistically… maybe. But also—good weather, strong work ethic, and your mother is terrifyingly organized.

Lucía: (laughs)
Okay, fine, my mother could organize a hurricane into a weekly planner. But still, rice feels lucky. I feel better when I do these things.

Sofía:
Then maybe the real power is in how it makes you feel—not the rice itself. Like a placebo. If tossing rice helps people feel hopeful, that’s lovely—as long as we don’t confuse it with cause and effect.

Lucía: (smiling)
So what you’re saying is…I’m emotionally attached to flying carbs, and you’re okay with it as long as I don’t think rice is destiny?

Sofía:
Exactly. You can toss it, bake it, or even glue it into a fertility sculpture—just don’t base your retirement plan on jasmine rice futures.

Lucía:
Deal. And if you ever get married, I’m still pelting you with rice. Organic. Eco-friendly. Hand-selected.

Sofía:
Make it quinoa and we’ll call it a compromise.

---

(They clink their coffee cups. The laughter of the wedding guests echoes in the background as rice scatters across the church steps.)