A Wine and Cheese Weekend

Wine and cheese in Mexico – who knew?! We are cheeseheads, after all, and were thrilled to find there is a wine and cheese route just a few hours away from Mexico City. We checked it out with our friends Josette and Scott during Tequisquiapan’s wine and cheese festival.

Matt was the tour director and Scott was our accommodating designated driver (he’s a beer guy) for the weekend. We started out at a reasonable hour on Saturday with our only goal to arrive at the Freixinet winery by 2 pm because we had tickets for its paella festival and we were told the paella could run out. First stop was the Neole cheese shop for a tour and tasting. We were joined by a tour group and headed behind the cheese shop for the simple tour that doubled as our daily Spanish lesson. We checked out the cheese making area, had the process described to us and then enjoyed our first cheese tasting of the trip. We would learn at our second cheese tasting that orange slices are to cleanse the palate, sweet is to temper the taste of the cheese and salty is to intensify the cheese’s taste. I used this guide as my excuse to eat the sweet pieces of “ate de membrillo” or quince jelly every time I tried a bit of blu or smoked cheese.

Even though we were full from breakfast and our subsequent cheese tasting, next stop was another cheese shop. Except we couldn’t find it and even Matt had to concede that despite its presence on his GPS, it didn’t really exist. No worries, it was time for some wine instead and we stopped at Viñedos Los Rosales. The grounds were beautiful, the servers were friendly and patiently described the wines we could taste and… the wines were terrible. So terrible that while we only had tiny 1-ounce pours, we still furtively dumped them out on the ground instead of finishing them. Driver Scott could rest easy that he hadn’t missed anything as he had taken a pass on the tasting, and we could all be confident that our $2 wine tasting fee was worth knowing never to drink Los Rosales wine again.

To get the bad taste out of our mouths, we quickly turned into Viñedos La Redonda for our second tasting. We opted to skip the tour (as we had done at Los Rosales) and headed to the tasting room at the front of the property. While the attendants couldn’t have been less interested in explaining the wine to us, the view was great and the wines were good.

La Redonda

After enjoying our wine and the view, it was off to the paella festival at Finca Sale Vivé by Freixenet. What a great time! After the usual ex-pat confusion (we had advanced tickets but had to stand in a ticket line anyhow), we got our glasses and our complimentary wine and were off to enjoy the fest. We started with a review of the entries into the paella competition. The entrants were gastronomy schools and the offerings looked amazing so we purchased from the friendliest group who told us their special ingredient was mezcal. Next up was a tour of the winery including the underground wine cave, which the winery claims is the only one in Latin America. It was a refreshing break from the sun and nice because we could wander about at our own pace.

Fun in the Cave

Back outside we checked out the hot air ballon, refilled our glasses and continue our wandering. The entrepreneurs who were supposed to be signing people up for rides the next morning were running a little side business taking pictures of people inside the balloon. We admired the effort and stepped inside. The festival crowd was laid back and family-friendly (despite the occasional passed out over indulger) and there were several seating areas with music. We headed through the vineyards, found a seat at the outdoor tent and enjoyed a mariachi band and then a band playing tunes like Stand by Me. I don’t think I have ever been in a vineyard surround by cacti before.

We left the festival and headed back to enjoy the pool at our lovely hotel. Afterwards, we returned to the main square of Tequisquiapan and went to La Vaca Feliz (The Happy Cow) cheese shop. It was crowded and we were a bit overwhelmed when the gentleman behind the counter took an interest in us and began describing all of the cheeses and giving us samples. We must have tasted 15 kinds of cheese! The man (if we got his name, I forgot it) was actually an optometrist who loved cheese and was eager to practice his English with us. We bought  couple of kinds but assured him we would be back on Monday before we left town. We did, in fact, return, and while we were disappointed that many of the cheeses we intended to buy had sold out over the weekend, we found plenty of other kinds to buy instead. And while our new friend wasn’t working, the woman who assisted us also generously gave us about another dozen samples.

Day 2 was as exciting and wine-filled as Day 1 and once again began with cheese. We went to Bocanegra – the companion cheese shop to Neole where they have a cheese cave. It looks like a winery – a gorgeous building with cool art in a beautiful setting. Wisconsin cheesemakers should take note.

It wasn’t all wine and cheese (and the occasional beer) – we were headed to the Pueblo Mágico (Magical Town) of Bernal to see the Rock of Bernal. Mexico designates certain towns as “Magical Towns” to promote tourism, protect traditions, provide jobs and highlight the towns’ cultural or natural significance. 83 towns or villages throughout Mexico have the designation, and Tequisquiapan is also one. I was game to explore another Pueblo Mágico, but I was confused by Bernal – a big rock was all it took? My first glimpse of the rock did not impress me.

Rock of Bernal

I did some quick internet research and learned it was the 3rd highest monolith on the planet. What the heck is a monolith? The Merriam-Webster definition, “a single great stone often in the form of an obelisk or column” didn’t do much to enlighten me.

We got to Bernal, parked the car and wandered around the cute town. The rock grew on me – the town was in its shadow and it was cool to see it looming above. We wandered in and out of shops on our way to the main square. We were admiring the church when we noticed a bunch of kids hurrying to stand before the door. They were eagerly awaiting something, which I didn’t think it was for mass to start, when the door opened and a guy started throwing coins to the kids. They scrambled for their share and then resumed the wait. What the heck? We saw a family come out with a newly baptized baby and Scott surmised that the tradition must be to throw coins to kids after your child is baptized. Sure enough, we entered the church and saw the set up for another baptism. Later research confirmed that this practice is called a “bolo” and the baby’s godfather throws the coins to ensure a prosperous life for his godchild.

Pueblo Mágico

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We went to a restaurant called El Negrito, which is a little disconcerting to an American as it translates to pickaninny. (Peru had a restaurant in the airport called La Negrita.) The terrace view was lovely and we enjoyed our lunch before heading back to Tequis for a cool down in the pool before going to the Wine and Cheese Festival.

Terrace View

While I think Matt, Josette and Scott would have been happy to stay at the pool and skip the wine and cheese festival, they humored me and we headed to the park, paid our entry fees, bought our glasses and started tasting. There was a pavilion set up with several rows of wine and cheese stands and a stage in the front of the grounds with several benches. I think there also was a food area, but we never made it there as we arrived with only two hours left of the festival and were focused on the tastings. While it was the last day of the festival and you could tell some of the vendors were ready to pack up, most were very friendly and happy to explain their wares to us. Like the paella fest, the vibe was relaxed. We left with several bottles of wine and cheese, so it was a worthwhile addition to our busy day.

The next morning after our final stop for cheese at La Vaca Feliz, we left Tequis with 9 bottles of wine and about the same number of cheeses. My only disappointment – no cheddar!

* In addition to Matt, as usual, photo credit for this post goes to Josette and Scott. Thanks, friends!

Día de Muertos

Several years after both of my parents had died, they both appeared in my dream one night. The dream was nothing special: we were milling about doing normal things in my final childhood home. No words of wisdom were spoken or cryptic message divulged. I woke up so happy as though both had visited me after so many years apart. That is Día de Muertos.

Final Christmas

Día de Muertos (Day of the Dead) is actually celebrated on 2 days in Mexico – November 1 and 2 – and is when the path between life on earth and the afterlife is open. This allows the dearly departed to return to earth to visit their living family. The living entice their dead relatives to visit by setting up altars (ofrendas) in their homes dedicated to their beloved – their pictures, favorite foods, mementos, sugar or candy skulls (calaveras), pan de muerto (sweet bread with a cross of “bones” on the top), candles and flowers. Or you can try to entice the famous – we were told of ofrendas for JFK, Marilyn Monroe and James Dean, among others. Marigolds provide the dead a path back to the living and are everywhere in the days leading up to the holiday. November 1 is the day for departed children and November 2 is for adults. Families will celebrate in their homes or in the cemetery where their loved ones rest. Unlike Halloween in which the dead are feared, Día de Muertos is when the dead are welcomed. And who wouldn’t want to see their deceased loved ones, if only once a year? Matt and I did not make an altar this year as we didn’t fully understand the holiday, but next year we will be inviting our deceased loved ones to pay a visit.

Catrina on Our Door

A new tradition for Día de Muertos in Mexico City is a fantastic parade. Spawned by the James Bond movie, Spectre, which (apparently) begins with a (staged) Día de Muertos parade in Mexico City, the municipality now sponsors a parade. Matt and I headed into the city early on Saturday to check out the scene and get a good spot. We were rewarded by happening upon the staging area and getting a good look at the floats before the parade began.

After wandering around for 3 hours, we secured our spot an hour before the parade and were not disappointed. What an amazing spectacle! It began with a moment of silence and a moving tribute to the earthquake victims and rescuers.

The next part of the parade, “The Living Dead,” was a walk through history and began with Mexico’s pre-hispanic roots.

Next up were the Spanish Conquistadors and the Widows’ Altar.

The colonial period was represented with some great dancing and costumes.

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A devil chasing an angel provided some comic relief and some interesting, but inexplicable (to me and my Spanish teacher) costumes followed.

Revolutionaries put on a show and then the press got a nod.

The next part of the parade – Carnival of Skulls – continued the fun.

Carnival of Skulls

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A wonderful introduction to Día de Muertos and a great celebration.

Ringing in the New Year

Happy 2016 to All! I am all set for it to be a fantastic year because I participated in all of the Ecuadorian superstitions/traditions in order to ensure luck, prosperity and love (hot sex too, according to some). I collected everyone’s advice and on December 31, I was ready. My lovely German volunteer, Helena, was on board with me to make 2016 a year to remember.

First up, yellow underwear.

Yellow Underwear

Shopping for Luck. Or Hot Sex.

I first heard that one wears yellow underwear for luck. I don’t own yellow underwear (TMI?) but while out shopping on New Year’s Eve came across this display and thought, “why not?” I was all set when we headed out for dinner with some friends on December 31 until one friend told me that you couldn’t wear the underwear early but had to change into it at midnight. Umm, we planned to be in the main square watching fireworks (and eating grapes, but that comes later) at midnight, so I opted to ignore this additional caveat. Another friend who heard of our tradition quest asked about the yellow underwear, but she told me it was to ensure a year of hot sex and that the underwear had to be new and a gift. However, she said wearing it all night was just fine. As my underwear was new and Matt had pulled the money out of his wallet to pay for it and our other purchases, I am all set for a year of luck and/or hot sex.

Wearing red and green. Red is for love and green is for health. Which one to pick? If I don’t wear red, will Matt run off with an 18 year old Galapagueña? But health is top of my list as I get older. I opted for a shirt with red in it and green earrings, thus covering both bases. Matt stuck with plaid shorts that had a thin line of green, so apparently he is not concerned about me running off with a hottie surfer. Helena covered all of the bases with patterned underwear with red, yellow and green.

Money in one’s shoe to bring a year of prosperity. This was a problem as I wear sandals here. A little tape and I was set. A cabbie had told me $10, so I went with that figuring I didn’t mind losing $10 if the tape loosened.

Money in Shoe

Ready for Prosperity

Once again, caveats were added by a friend – LEFT shoe and it was better on the sole. Also, the bigger the bill the more prosperous, according to some. We were already out so I did a quick adjustment with my 10 spot.

LEFT shoe!

LEFT sole!

Change jingling in one’s pocket is also said to bring prosperity. I put change in BOTH pockets and fully expect to win a big lottery jackpot this year. (Note I did not say “win the lottery” as I do not intend all this effort to result in me winning a measly $2 in the Powerball!). Helena was equally committed and changed out of her cute, pocketless skirt into shorts with pockets.

Jingle Jangle

Jingle Jangle

My final tradition was to eat 12 grapes at the stroke of midnight, while making a wish for each month. I gave it a shot but could only find large, seeded grapes on the island and it took me about 3 minutes to eat 12 of them. Maybe my January wish will come true? Matt and Helena did a much better job.

12 Grapes at Midnight

12 Grapes at Midnight

I contemplated another tradition to ensure a year of travel: pack a suitcase, carry your passport and run around your block or neighborhood at midnight. The farther you run; the farther you will travel. I decided to skip this one because my passport is with our attorney in Quito for visa paperwork, we live on an island and won’t have much opportunity to travel this year, and we planned to be in the square at midnight. Helena really wants to travel this year and was stuck with a dilemma until another friend said it was adequate to pack your suitcase and leave it by the door of your house and that your passport was not needed. Others questioned this modification, but he said that he did it twice and one year spent considerable time in Colombia and the other year spent 3 months in the US. We stopped at Helena’s house so she could pack her suitcase, and I hope she has a fantastic year of travel.

Another tradition is for men to dress up as the widow of the old year and beg for alms. During the day, Matt and I saw about a dozen such widows. He and our friends decided that they will participate in this tradition next year, so size 13 heels and a wig are now on our to-buy list for the US!

The night was a lot of fun with people out and about, effigies (Año Viejo or Old Year) that were burned at midnight, music and fireworks.

The effigies were a bit confusing. Why were people burning cartoon characters or the Pope? Especially the Pope tableau with the army figures where the Pope was labeled the “Pope of Peace” in obvious contract to the tank and soldiers.

Others were easier to understand although we needed the political one explained to us. We got the significance of the President (fair game on New Year’s Eve to poke fun at him), but the animal was a sheep representing his unquestioning followers and the sandwiches because he apparently gets supporters to events by giving out food.

All in all, a fun celebration and a good start to 2016. I can look forward to luck, love, health, prosperity, a wish or two and hot sex!

A Great Good Friday in Quito

I was having flashbacks to my Catholic school upbringing. I had stumbled into the courtyard of the Basilica del Voto Nacional on Good Friday and discovered a live enactment of the Stations of the Cross. It was odd – tourists were crowded about, taking pictures and videos, teenagers were cracking up over the fake whippings with ketchup used as blood, no one seemed to be relating the spectacle to the event. But as I watched longer, it seemed appropriate – a crucifixion was entertainment in its day, not unlike the horrific public stonings or executions in other countries in the present day. Or maybe that was just my excuse so we could take pictures too.

Welcome to Good Friday in Quito, Ecuador. A mix of sacred and carnival, Quito has a Good Friday Procession, Jesus del Gran Poder (Jesus of Great Power), that draws thousands for the 4 hour event. Many of the faithful dress in the purple robes and cucuruchos (cone hoods) of the penitent. Others dress as Jesus or Veronica, the woman believed to have wiped Jesus’s face, or Roman soldiers. Many carry crosses, some whip themselves with stinging nettles or have them wrapped around their bodies, the red welts apparent, and others have barbed wire wrapped around themselves, eating into their flesh. The parade also includes priests broadcasting sermons and prayers and marching bands. It is quite a spectacle.

View of the Procession and Virgen De Quito from the Cathedral

View of the Procession and Virgen De Quito from the Cathedral

Many of the crosses are huge and carried by several people. They stagger a few yards with the cross before dropping it with a thud.

Over halfway through the procession, we saw this father and son on a side street getting dressed to join the procession.

Also notable were the number of children in the parade. Just what did they have to be so penitent about?

This man also seemed to have suffered enough in his life.

Injured Cross Carrier

Amputee Cross Carrier

After the procession we enjoyed another Semana Santa (Holy Week) tradition: Fanesca. A special soup made only for Semana Santa it contains 12 grains and milk and is served with salted cod, boiled egg, fried plantains, slices of peppers, fried empanadas, fried empanada dough (masitas) and fresh cheese. The proprietors of the restaurant in which we ate were very friendly, eager to explain the special nature of the soup to us and concerned that we were happy with our meal. We were – it was delicious and filling.

Happy St. Paddy’s Day – Better Late Than Never!

Yesterday I was in Lima obtaining my Peruvian residency card. It was a typical bureaucratic experience with two items of note: the Peruvians determined that I am a green-eyed blond (and here I thought I was a brown-eyed brunette for the past 45 years) and my residency stamp is on the visa page with a JFK quote, which seemed fitting for St. Patrick’s Day. I did not have the luck o’ the Irish when our plane from Lima arrived over Cajamarca, circled a few times, and then flew back to Lima as the pilot determined the weather didn’t permit him to land. Or maybe not landing was the lucky part! In any event, for that reason this post is a day late.

Although the month of Carnival festivities had worn us out, we decided to throw a St. Patrick’s Day party last Saturday for our expat and Peruvian friends. The Peruvians were quite interested to know what a St. Paddy’s Day party entailed, and we were at a bit of a loss – uh, drinking and wearing green? But we stepped it up and made corned beef (from scratch, no handy pre-brined meat here), potato salad (okay, not entirely Irish, but the potatoes count), oatmeal cookies,  and Irish cream brownies (courtesy of our friend Sarah), greeted everyone at the door with a shot of Baileys or Jameson and had the Irish tunes playing. Matt boss, Peter, contributed some Pogues and other contemporary Celtic tunes that complemented our Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem collection quite nicely.

It was pretty cool to have 5 countries represented : USA, Canada, Peru, Colombia and Mexico and everyone enjoying a typical American St. Patrick’s Day party. But the Peruvians like to sing and dance.  While I was tempted to teach them all Weela, Wallia, I was concerned that this group of educators might not see the justice in the song but instead wonder why I was singing a song about killing a baby. (My kindergarden teacher wondered the same thing and called my parents for an explanation.  True story.) We put on some YouTube videos teaching Irish dance, but as all I know about Irish dance is that you have to keep your arms down and shoulders straight, that was short lived.  We gave the Electric Slide and Boot Scootin’ Boogie a shot (thank you, Mistina and Sarah), but in the end, Latin music prevailed. One of the teachers noted, “you Americans dance with your legs, not your hips” and I think she understood why learning to salsa is not natural for us! The party went until the wee hours and a good time was had by all.

Clean Up

Clean Up

Goodbye to Carnival – The Davy College Unsha

The last party of Carnival is the Unsha, where a tree is cut down, moved somewhere else and “planted” in the ground, street, wherever, and then decorated with presents, danced around and chopped down at which time there is a mad dash for the presents. We asked several Peruvians the origin or symbolism of Unsha and were told it was just a Cajamarca Carnival tradition. So whatever the initial meaning was, it is apparently lost! Different neighborhoods, or barrios, have their Unsha celebrations, as did Matt’s school. The Davy Unsha operates as both the traditional Carnival celebration as well as a staff party and newbie hazing. We were warned, so we knew to have an extra change of clothes although I managed to decline the hazing ceremony, so avoided the eggs on my head and was just sprayed with water and dusted with baby powder.

Matt did a fantastic job with the pictures and a video on his blog, so I am now going to cheat and direct you there. http://mattgeiger.blogspot.com/

Be sure to watch the (short) video – it is well worth it and you get to see eggs cracked on Matt’s head!   http://mattgeiger.blogspot.com/2014/03/unsha-2014-video.html

One Parade Too Many – Cajamarca Carnival Part 2

I hate parades. I like the crowds, merriment and people watching before the parade, but I get bored silly sitting on the sidelines and watching endless streams of paraders. Until attending Markesan’s June Dairy Days parade became a cottage tradition that I was shamed into by my young niece and nephew, I had managed to avoid parades for a good decade. Then we moved to Cajamarca. There are parades for Saints, Patria (Independence), Carnival and endless other reasons, or so it seems. Because we want to participate in cultural events, we have gone to most of them. For Carnival alone we attended 3 parades, the paint parade and two “normal” parades.  We were under the impression that Sunday and Monday’s parades were distinct, but with the exception of some floats, generally carrying the barrio (neighborhood) queens and princesses, Monday’s parade wasn’t much different than Sunday’s parade. On Sunday, Matt, Mistina and I went to the parade early and managed to get a good standing spot near the beginning of the route. The vendors were hawking everything from food, toys, super soakers and plastic, hats and umbrellas to protect from the super soakers, balloons and pails of water that are customary at all of the Carnival events (including the burial of the Ño Carnivalón!).

After waiting about 1 1/2  hours, the parade began and even I was impressed.  The costumes were fantastic and so different from what we have in the US (or at least at June Dairy Days).  The only major irritation was that despite staking our spot for 2 hours, we were battered by people shoving past us. We lasted at the parade for about 1 1/2 hours before I got bored.

We then went to two teachers’ house for additional festivities that included throwing water balloons off the balcony at departing parade attendees. Note: there was major retaliation when a guy threw a bucket of water at us and then a flatbed truck spotted us and drove down our street to douse us with water. We also had the special treat of a homemade Cajamarquino meal: Chupe verde (my favorite herb soup with potatoes, egg and fresh cheese), chicharrones (fried pork), sweet potatoes, yuca, corn and delicious Peruvian condiments.  Dessert was fresh cheese with honey.  Delicious!  As if the food wasn’t amazing enough, we also had very pure cañazo, 14 year old beer and chicha de mani (a peanut based liquor) that had a smell reminiscent of Chinese food and an interesting smoky flavor. After eating, the karaoke machine was set up and we listened to our friends sing Peruvian songs. Then the dancing began and we got some salsa lessons. Honestly, I think Latin Americans are born knowing how to salsa; I clearly was not as I am usually thrusting the wrong hip!

On Monday we were off to another parade, but this time we were prepared.

Prepared to Play Carnival

Prepared to Play Carnival

Mistina, Sarah, her 2 1/2 year old twins (Emma and Beau), Matt and I went to the parade route and after a block of scoping out the crowds decided that paying 20 soles each ($7.20) for front row seats was worth it!  Later we realized that a front row seat with a plastic roof might have been a better idea.  We were generally exempt from intentional water attacks due to Emma and Beau so we didn’t get to use our balloons as that would have prompted an attack that would have certainly involved the kids.

And then the parade began and apart from the floats and the fact that some of the marchers looked like they had been drinking all night (and probably were), it was just like the parade the day before!  We lasted about 2 hours (after waiting 2 hours) and then decided to leave.  Little did we know that leaving was not easy as access to the route is blocked off by viewing stands, makeshift structures, trucks and the like.  We walked several blocks before there was a small opening that we were able to climb through, with the help of many kind strangers, to get out. The parade lasted several more hours, so we were all happy we left when we did. Next year, two parades will definitely be my maximum and one might even suffice.

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Today we have another Carnival Celebration: the Davy College Unsha.  A tree is erected and then you have a party to chop it down!  Last night we watched a tree get dragged down our street and then a few hours later Mistina and I walked down the block to see what the commotion was.  With the world’s dullest ax they were cutting branches off the bottom so that the tree would fit it into the hole in the middle of the street.  I was not convinced the power lines were safe so we left as they erected it.  Apparently these trees are “planted” in the streets all over the city!

Ding, Dong the Ño is Dead – Cajamarca Carnival Part 1

Cajamarquinos know how to party! Cajamarca is the Carnival Capital of Peru and the official Cajamarca “Programa Carnaval” has events beginning on January 23 and ending on March 9. To the uninitiated (us) it was a little hard to figure out what is Carnival related and why, but here are the main events that we experienced.

Water, Water everywhere.  This phenomenon actually began before January 23 when my friend Mistina and I were on a walk and got sprayed with water from a passing vehicle.  She bore the brunt of the attack and looked at her soggy clothes with a shocked expression . “What was that?  Is this water?” We decided to assume the best, that it was water, but were confused by the experience. We had never encountered any anti-American animus but wondered whether something had happened while we were on Christmas break that would lead to random, anonymous aggression. A couple days later I was walking my usual bike path route when WHOOSH!  A bucket of water was thrown at me. Thankfully, the aim was off so I was merely splashed with the aftereffects. I turned and yelled at the passing vehicle (maybe even made a nasty gesture, it was instinct, I swear) and the guys in the truck bed were busting a gut. Matt did some investigation at work and learned that water antics are a part of Carnival and start sometime in January. So attacks with water balloons, super soakers, buckets and hoses are all in good fun, condoned and to be expected. Despite this, we didn’t have too many other experiences with random acts of water until the parades this past weekend. Matt inadvertently stumbled into a water fight in our neighborhood last week, but as some of the participants were his students they respectfully gave him a pass. The same thing happened this weekend as we were walking from one of the parades.

Ño Carnavalón.  This guy shows up everywhere and can best be described as the Life of the Party (or, in this case, Carnival). For awhile I understood him to be a demon but I am not sure that is the case although he was dressed like a devil when he got married to the Doña Carnavalón in Baños a couple of weekends ago and he generally looks pretty scary. Saturday’s parade was the Ingreso de Ño Carnavalón (Arrival of the Carnival Ño), the event that really gets the party started. Sunday and Monday’s parades featured the Ño (or various versions of him), last night was his wake (yep, he died. Probably from too much partying) and today was his cremation in Baños. RIP until next year Ño Carnivalón, and maybe we can finally get a full night’s sleep! Last night the music started in Baños at 11:30 pm and this morning on Matt’s 5:30 am walk to work he passed three guys, one holding up his friend, who was holding a beer, and the third playing a snare drum. The party never stops!

The Ño and Doña Arrive

The Ño and Doña Arrive

Ño and Doña

Doña and Ño

Ño cremation

Ño cremation

The Paint Parade.  “Stay home,” we were warned, “It’s dirty. People are out of control.” Saturday’s parade, while technically called the Ingreso de Ño Carnavalón, is locally known as the paint parade. Apart from the truck carrying Ño and Doña, the rest of the parade is comprised of gangs of people, who sing, dance, drink and throw paint at everyone and everything. People, cars, houses, the police – nothing is sacred. We were invited to our friend Maribel’s house, which is conveniently located on the parade route, for breakfast and to enjoy the parade.  And by “enjoy” I mean lob water balloons and, when those ran out, buckets of water at the parade participants from the roof of her building!

Not that we were safe. First, I will never engage in bomb making as I managed to soak myself (and Matt) by overfilling balloons. Kiera, Maribel’s niece, was worse and changed her clothes 2 times before we even began (of course, she is only 8). Then the neighbors decided to wage water war on us (and they were slightly higher up and had better throwing arms) and finally, this truck was in the parade to retaliate against roof watchers like us.

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After the parade passed we had a nice, traditional lunch of fried trout, corn and rice and then decided to join the fray. I was a little nervous given all the warnings, but wasn’t going to be the party pooper. So 8 of us packed into a sedan cab (9 counting the driver) and buzzed off to the fun.  And was it fun!  Being conspicuously paint free, we were quickly accosted and painted. People literally surrounded us and slapped, threw, dabbed or dumped paint on us. And then they offered us shots! We were invited to tag along with one group and at every turn they would herd us along with them. It was hilarious – singing (the same endless tune with different verses, which Matt and I faked knowing as people urged us to sing), dancing, drinking (okay, I declined the shots for the most part as I think the bottles had as much paint as alcohol in them). Eventually we ran into some friends of Maribel’s and we ditched our first gang and joined our second one. We ended up in front of someone’s house and the carousing continued, including the homeowners bringing out chicha de jora, a traditional corn beer, cañazo, distilled sugar cane, and a pan of rice and sausage. Apparently these street parties are common as we saw many of them.  Of course, now that we were part of the parade, we were doused with water, which was karmic payback, no doubt!  After a couple of hours, the crowd was getting drunk, it started raining and we decided to call it a day on a high note. The paint parade got two thumbs up from Matt and me and was our favorite parade of Carnival.  To get a complete feel for the event, check out Matt’s blog where he posted videos of the day. http://mattgeiger.blogspot.com/2014/03/carnivales-2014-day-one-videos.html

Clean Up

Clean Up

Happy Thanksgiving

Tom Turkey

I love Thanksgiving.  It falls around my birthday so the 4-day weekend always feels like a special birthday present.  I come from a family of great cooks and the Thanksgiving menu has evolved over the years to include the traditional favorites along with an awesome pumpkin curry soup (thank you, Nikki) and my grandma’s antipasto (because we cannot have a family meal without an Italian dish).   For the past decade, Matt and I escaped to our cottage the Friday after Thanksgiving to relax before the rush of the Christmas season.  We would pull out the sofa bed and watch movies, eat turkey leftovers and not have any company. A real treat!  This year is obviously different.  Matt is working on Thursday as Thanksgiving is not a holiday in Peru (although I noticed that the stores do have “Black Friday” sales).  So I am feeling a little bereft about missing Thanksgiving, while at the same time recognizing that my life is one long weekend and we have a lot to be thankful for.

Because I am not the only expat to feel this way, the American and Canadian expats held a Thanksgiving dinner on Sunday night.  My friend Sarah, the school librarian, and I went to pick up the turkeys on Sunday morning.  We took them to the host’s house to clean them and get them in the oven.  While Sarah and I were each cleaning out the inside of a turkey (no tidy giblet bag here!) and plucking stray feathers, I realized my turkey still had its head!  Thank goodness Sarah is from Alaska and no stranger to cleaning animals, so she gamely lopped off the heads of both turkeys.  Interestingly, the feet were already off but included in the bag.

The feast was really nice; everyone chipped in with a dish or two and we  had a traditional meal.  A few Peruvians were invited as well as a peace corp volunteer, Michelle, who Sarah met at the grocery store.  (When you hear someone speaking English around here, you tend to strike up a conversation.)  My favorite non-traditional part of the meal was a pineapple salsa that Michelle’s Peruvian host mom made for her to bring to the event.  Delicious and perfect with turkey.  If I am ever home for Thanksgiving, I might just have to make this dish a new staple on the family menu.

My favorite part!

My favorite part!

So those of you at home, enjoy it all: the Macy’s parade, football, friends, family and food!  Happy Thanksgiving!

1st Communion, Peruvian Style

“We’re going to the first communion this weekend,” Matt said when he came home from school one night.

“Okay, whose first communion?” I asked.  Having been to plenty of first communions in the States, including my own, I was interested to see one in Peru.

“I don’t know.  The fourth graders, I guess,” he replied.  “I have an invitation somewhere.”

“All of them?”  I was confused.  Davy is not a Catholic school and while I know Peru is 85-90% Catholic, I didn’t understand why first communion would be associated with the school as opposed to a parish.

“I don’t know, but I’m the principal so we need to go.”

Fair enough.  So last Saturday Matt and I put on church attire and headed to Iglesia Belén (Church of the Nativity) in the center of Cajamarca.  (Once at church I discovered that if I owned a micro mini skirt and stiletto heels those would have been equally appropriate attire for a first communion although I am not sure how I would have sat down…)  We arrived and knew we were in the right place by the host of little angels all around us.

Matt was in hot demand for photos.  Mainly with the girls – like in most countries, the boys stay farther away from the principal.  But Miss Mistina, a fourth grade teacher, was sought after for photos with boys and girls and, in one case, the family scurried down the street after mass to catch her.  We chatted with some parents who spoke excellent English and the mom explained that the children usually make their first communion with their school.  She added that 48 children were participating today and that 1 other student already made her first communion in Lima and the remaining 3 fourth graders “were not participating.”  It was clear she did not approve of the three non-participants. She also explained that the children dress alike to avoid the “miniature bride” factor and competition.  That seems like a great idea and probably an easier sell in a country where uniforms are the norm.

The same mom kindly led us into church and to our assigned seats – places of honor on the side, right up front by the children.  Not my usual back-of-church choice, but we were not alone as the teachers were similarly honored.  The priest even came down to greet all of us before mass, and I almost had a giggle fit when the priest said “Que Tal” to me, which is an informal “How’s it going” greeting.  I managed to stutter back “Buenos Dias” as he continued down the line of teachers.  Then I looked up at the dome and had to stifle my giggles again as the cherubs holding up the dome look like they are making “Nanny-Nanny-Boo-Boo”  faces.  Look and tell me if I am wrong:

Nanny-Nanny-Boo-Boo

Nanny-Nanny-Boo-Boo

While the service lasted two hours, it was very pleasant.  Our years of Catholic education certainly helped as Matt and I generally knew what was going on.  There was also a handy written program, so I could even say the responses (the shorter ones or I got lost) and sing in Spanish.  The Our Father, which should have been easy, was confusing, so I am not exactly sure what was going on for that.  All 48 children participated in some fashion by reading petitions, bringing up the gifts etc., which was nice.  I had considerable anxiety during communion when everyone was taking the wafer directly in the mouth, a practice long discontinued in the US.  So I intently watched the line and was relieved when I saw one woman extend her hands.  Then I saw she was noticeably pregnant.  Was there some special pregnancy rule? By the time we were headed up to the altar, I had seen two other women, neither who appeared to be pregnant, do the same, so I held out my hands and was awarded my host (and not whacked with a ruler by the nun dispensing communion).  Whew.  Poor Mistina, who is not Catholic, was being urged by the children to take communion.  She explained that she was not Catholic and received stunned, uncomprehending looks.  So on Monday she had to explain where her Christian beliefs and their Catholic beliefs intersect and diverge.  She said the kids are still a little shocked that she isn’t Catholic.

After church we wandered to the Belén museum and ended our outing with a baby mummy and a skeleton.  All in all, a lovely day!