Bhutan, Buffalo- thoughts on marriage

This week I went to a Bhutanese wedding which was exotic and totally different from Western weddings.  "Say yes to the Dress" (TV show of women shopping for bridal gowns) pales next to the Bhutanese bride and groom in their golden bejeweled outfits.
http://www.buffalonews.com/city/communities/west-side/article582237.ece Blessings are given by the guests and flowers lightly tossed on the couple's heads. 
    In Bhutan, marriages are arranged.  In this case, the couple had met just once before the wedding when they discussed their future plans and what they were looking for.  The two came from similar backgrounds which goes a long way to creating compatibility. 
    What works?  In the US, attraction (falling in love) outweighs all other considerations.  In one of the French films I've seen recently, a woman talks about her potential partner and says, "We feel the same way about food."  That wouldn't even enter into the American equasion.
    I was never interested in marriage, something I attribute to watching my parents' marriage and growing up in the feminist era.  Did I miss something besides a big party?
Do public vows change the nature of a relationship (of which I've had one very long and a couple of shorter ones)?  Does getting married mean that you take on the very slow painful evolution of the archetype of marriage in a society in which gender roles are blurred and changing?
   Like most people I would like to fall in love.  These days I'm looking for an editor (just kidding).  By that I mean  a relationship of sharing each other's interests on a deep level.  That plus the other factors of attraction and compatibility.  And food?  ( it doesn't hurt).  I went out with a vegan for a few months and going out wasn't much fun.  Does marriage have to enter into this?  So far, it hasn't.
    And then, a poem:

Madrid Morning

An old world Madrid morning

turns the room sepia,

traffic screams

the dust of the plain

settles in my throat.

The room never lightens

past this shade,

ghosts inhabit all gaslit corners.

You turn over

each movement gains a response.

Around us now crashes

ago crumbles,

but steadily, calmly, you emerge

from the debris

to offer the tangible,

a taste, a touch.

I struggle to dream less,

pleasure is here, possible

your voice reminds.

My body agrees

I fight the voices of reason,

the ones of fancy

to drift above and escape in time.