No weddings, a funeral, a confirmation, and a baptism (8/8/05)

I was worried last week that I wouldn't have anything interesting to write about for once. Leave it to the Catholic Church to take care of that. I then found myself not having any time to write about the crazy week. However, here I am trying to get in a short mass email before I leave my village on Wednesday. So as I mentioned, the Catholic Church made good on providing humor, the occasional fear, and a touch of irony. It all began last Tuesday when we were invited to a confirmation. While the actual church service is part of the confirmation, it plays a minor part when compared to the celebration that surrounds it. For the past week I’ve felt that they are fatting me up to ritually sacrifice me. and that wouldn’t' be too far off of a reasonable occurrence being that we have our own sacrificing pit left here by the town's ancestors centuries ago. Just when I think I’m about to explode, I’m force-fed more food. Luckily for me, the food is dang good. Anyway, we spent the afternoon eating, and eating some more. But this wasn't the highlight of the day (yes, I’m sure your surprised that food wasn't the highlight of my day since I’m always talking about what food I like etc etc). The highlight of my day was when I almost died for the umpteenth time. and while I was quite stoic during the other adventures, I was literally scared out of my mind this time when they presented us with a truck whose bed was filled with rows of dining room chairs. The seats were higher than the barrier. While this is a common occurrence here, I never thought that I would be riding on one of these chairs. All those stories I’ve sent about winding roads and projectile vomiting...well imagine adding sitting on a chair to the mix. To make matters worse, this is a road that is used by many trucks. Trucks drive too slowly for the average Mexican driver, so of course we had to pass ALL of them. Then it started to rain. Luckily, my 8 year old neighbor how was holding on to me for dear life was blocking most of the rain. When we arrived to the church, I crossed myself. Even though I’m not catholic, I had to make an outward symbol to show just how grateful I was not to be dead.

So we crowded into a church. My host cousin was getting baptized. But these services are like 3 hours long. My host brother and his wife signaled me to go outside with them for fresh air...we never returned. We actually spent the whole confirmation watching a girl’s basketball game that was playing at the high school next door. They used the excuse that it was raining and didn't want to get wet walking back to the church, but I think it was all planned for the beginning. We weren't the only family members that skipped out. Only my host mother remained. I’m under the suspicion that the only reason why people continue religious festivals is so they can eat well and throw parties.

Once we got back to our town (the service was in the neighboring city) we ate even more food. MORE I TELL YOU. Then we topped off the night by listening to the grandfather play the guitar as everyone sang along drunkenly. I was in bed at this moment, groaning from my impending sacrifice. Luckily, the sacrifice has been postponed indefinitely.

The next day there was a funeral. I must say, I like how Mexico does funerals. While a few tears were shed, people were more interested in eating and talking. Even from celebrating "day of the dead", I’ve been impressed by how the death of someone warrants the celebration of life, not wallowing in misery. While it was obvious people were upset that a community member had passed, that didn't keep them from enjoying themselves and remembering the good things of his life. There better be a party thrown when i pass away. I want lots of dancing..and of course, lots of food.

Saturday I went to a confirmation party and ate some more. It’s basically the same story as all my other church instigated parties I attended except this one included a cake. When I was looking through my host family's photo album, I was wondering why so many pics were of people buried in cake. I learned why on Saturday. For birthdays and other such celebrations, the guest of honor must take a bite out of the cake. They won't let anyone eat it until he or she dives into the cake. The shy victim this time took 10 minutes to take the plunge while old ladies yelled "que lo muerdes" (bite it) over and over. Again, I thought I was about to explode after I finally got my piece.

If you are wondering if I have gained weight...yes.

Then yesterday there was an impromptu party that began when my whole extended host family started throwing stuffed animals at each other. This lead to a pillow fight instigated by no other than Tio Tito (my host uncle) who walked in and started dictating who should be bombarded next. Then there was a coup. He was taken down. Then a reggaeton ´festival ensued. (I went to a club on Friday and since then everyone has been talking about my dancing...so now whenever I go anywhere in my neighborhood, they put on reggaeton music and force me to dance). This is all on film and photos btw). We had a conga line, a limbo line, forced my 16 year old and 10 year old male cousins to dress up as women. The younger one struggled for a while but was overpowered. He then started to enjoy himself right as his parents walked in. You can imagine their faces, seeing their little boy enjoy being a woman. I think we managed to corrupt half the town children in the 7 weeks we were here.

Tonight, we are having a camp out on top of the mountain. I thought this was a joke that came out of the craziness of last night..but alas, I think we will be freezing our butts off tonight and getting no sleep.

Today, I rode a donkey for 2 hours. I announced in class last week that I wanted to ride a donkey. The next day one of my students came up to me and told me that her parents gave her permission. She came to pick me up this morning and we walked the hour to her house. She was quite amusing as she would do things like rip half a corn stock, eat the cane, then mess up the part that was left and told us to tell her parents that a donkey had done it if they asked. I enjoyed my time riding the donkey through the corn and on the highway.

Anyway, I have much more to say but I have much work left to do. I will write as soon as I get back to Houston on Saturday. Btw, I finished the mural. The town is very pleased. I will send pics of that soon as well.

maya