Today my friend Maria's little kid Sebastian (Sebas for short) had his third birthday party. He's just what a three-year-old should be - mischievous, loves Spiderman, and terrified of clowns. A few months ago, Maria asked me to be his madrina for the party, a Bolivian tradition. (She also asked me to be his godmother in general, but that involves a longer story.) I was delighted that she had asked me, and so I set to work - asking her what that would involve. In Bolivia, especially in small towns, each religious festival or fiesta each year has a different padrino or madrina, or godparent in charge of the celebration. It's a great honor for someone to be the padrino/madrina, and often requires significant economic inversion. Lucky for me, what was expected of me was far less than providing for an entire town's three-day party. I got to be in charge of getting Sebas some new clothes to wear on the big day.
[A side note: These days, many padrinos are folks that live or have citizenship abroad (are more economically well-off) and that can take some time off and come back to celebrate with their town. For example, my friend Vanesa's cousin-in-law came to Cochabamba from Arlington (with his Puerto Rican girlfriend) to visit and be the padrino of a religious celebration in a small pueblo outside the city in late August.]
So last weekend, Maria, Sebas, and I went tromping down to the Cancha, the huge open-air market just south of the center of the city. It was a hot day, and we made several stops on the way for drinks, snacks, and ice cream to keep our spirits up. Sebas, like any good three-year-old, had three-minute desires. For the first three minutes, he was dying of thirst. For the second three minutes, he was dying of hunger. For the third three minutes, he was an uncontrollable ball of energy. For the fourth three minutes, he was exhausted and needed to be carried. And then it began all over again. I thought it was amusing, but then, I see Sebas once a week at most. Maria assured me it wasn't the sugar in the ice cream, it's just what being two-almost-three was all about.
So we found some suitable clothes (a crisp new white Spiderman t-shirt with the superhero on the front and a spider with its web on the back; new brown shoes with just enough room to grow into, and some comfortable khaki-colored pants he can play in), and set off back home with Sebas asking if he could put the clothes on as soon as we got there. Maria had asked Andres to be the padrino in charge of contracting a clown to come and play with the kids that were invited (apparently fairly common here). And she asked me for help with the cake, but since Andres' grandmother is extremely capaz at anything baking- or cooking-related, we decided that Andres and I would also contribute by baking the cake, which we did yesterday. Tres leches (condensed milk, evaporated milk, and regular milk) - it was delicious.
So today, at first, all went according to plan. Even Sebas, who's normally terrified of clowns, kept giggling and turning to me and saying "Que chistoso!" in spite of himself. Attendance was a bit on the lighter side (Maria's family was prepared for the biggest-case-scenario), but we all had a great time. The clown had everyone laughing, the cake was delicious, as were the salteñas (stew in a hot-pocket - the Bolivian mid-morning snack). I saved Sebas from dripping the salteña juice all over his clothes, which stayed remarkably clean all day. But then - just as the kids were done playing with their new balloon animals and were about to have at the piñata - it started to rain. It wasn't just the drizzles we've been getting from the clouds that have come up over the mountains. This was a DOWNPOUR. Hail and everything. Fortunately, Maria's family had put up a tarp to provide shade over one area. Everyone crowded under it for protection from the rain as we quickly rushed through the piñata. Then we all got herded inside for presents. We watched it go from pouring to lightening up to pouring over and over again. As I sat inside waiting for a break in the storm long enough to walk home, the clown left, as did many of the guests (the party was wrapping up anyway), while Sebas and a few of the kids who remained played with his new toys. But it was quite a way to experience one of the first real rains of spring!
[Attached is a picture of the clown, me, Maria and Sebas, and Andres.]
The other news: I moved, to a sweet new house (you'll have to wait til next email for a picture) further away from the city. That means more peace, a quiet neighborhood, and more using the office bicycle, which I really couldn't justify for my 5-block walk from Chichi's house. It also means I'm closer to Tai Chi (Ismael's house), my friend Maria's house, the bike path that circles the city, the northern hills that look down on Cochabamba, and the trufis and micros that go up to the small community in Tiquipaya I went to for my Independent Study Project back in the day. Speaking of which, I went back to the community last weekend and took the path up through the northern hills to a nearby river where an old water-run mill used to be located. Brambles aside, it was a beautiful hike and reminded me that yes, I am right smack in the middle of the Andes (and they call these foothills).
Cochabamba Day was September 14th. Happy Cochabamba Day! Also, the first day of Spring (Friday) was celebrated by the shutdown of the main artery in the city, the Prado, so that plant vendors could set up along the sides. Made me think we should petition to DC authorities to shut down Constitution Avenue in DC on the first day of spring. Forget the government, we need to buy plants!
Spanish words of the day:
Birthday - Cumpleaños
Happy Birthday! - Feliz Cumpleaños!
Spiderman - Hombre Araña "Ohm-breh Ah-ran-ya"
Spiderman as said by Sebas - "Oh-meh eye-on-ya"
pueblo - between town and village
capaz - good at something, like capable
tres leches - literally, three milks
"Que chistoso!" - How funny!
lluvia torrencial - torrential rain
Madrina - godmother or a sponsor-of-sorts
Padrino - godfather or a sponsor-of-sorts
Cake - torta
"Que muerda!" - "Bite it [the cake]!" (Another Bolivian tradition, after you blow out the candle, you bite the cake, and someone pushes your head so you come up with a face full of frosting. Sebas did not humor us in that request.)
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