Sunday, December 7, 2008

Posada

I'm disappointed a bit to find out that a Posada is nothing more than their word for a Christmas Party.  I had visions of some great tradition.  It's not.  But it's still fun.
We arrived and parked the car in front of the house (you never get that lucky in Mexico!) to unload all our goodies.  We kissed all who were already there (the host, Terry, and her husband, and another teacher with her husband).  I had met both teachers, but I only remembered one.  Terry teaches the highest level and I remember thinking her accent was good, but the day I was there was a placement test day.  The teachers were all going over the test and there was a question about one of the questions and Terry answered it, but incorrectly.  It was one of those picky questions about where the best place for one word is.  The day is burned well into my memory...
Fast forward to last night when we arrived.  I love these parties because it always turns out really fun and there's plenty to talk about since I'm not from here, etc.  However, it always starts with just a bit of apprehension on my part.  I like to go to a party where I know some people.  Or at least know that I sound like them.  The beginning is always very quiet on my end.  For one, I don't want to start up an accented conversation with a group of stranger.  For two, the introduction in Mexico is different than that in the US.  There are interesting studies about how each class in the US introduces someone that I'll be glad to share if you want to ask.  I'll generalize.  In the US, we don't always feel obligated to introduce, though more often than not we do.  In Mexico, it is terrible form to not introduce someone.  The introduction itself, though is very different.  In the US, I feel like we give plenty of information.  "This is Emily.  We're friends from KY from the high school era, though we didn't go to high school.  She went to Vandy while I was at Lipscomb, though it was after graduation that we caught back up again."
Etc.  Here, the protocol is, "Laura, una amiga."  Or, "Maricela, my sister."  No other information is needed.  This may be part of the cultural difference they're talking about when they say other countries find that USians give too much personal information.
I digress, as usual.
This party was much the same, only it was already known by half the people there that I was from the US.  I spent the first 15 minutes mostly listening and smiling.  When there are people other than teachers in our teacher group when we go out, this happens, too.  Though in the States, it's because we start talking about school and techniques, etc.  Here it's because they're talking about other things, but things that they've started discussing at school.  After that time, the Terry's husband was talking about their decorations and mentioned the poinsettia.  "¿Cómo se dice noche buena en inglés?"  I told him the word poinsettia and he practiced.  Then he said, "It would be so much easier to say 'Good night.'"  Noche buena in English would be good night, so he was logical in his thinking.  It was funny.
More people ended up coming and we had a good time.  We basically just sat around like any other party only there were Christmas decorations around.
There were a few notable things from this party.
1 Tequila was the drink of choice, but the kind Mabel brought was cheap and yucky.  Terry's husband brought out a tall blue bottle of top of the line, Mexican tequila, and of course I had to probarlo.  It was mixed with Fanta Toronjoa which is the grapefruit flavor.  It's a good drink except that it's not diet, so all the sugar gets to me.  Fast.  I get all full and yucky feeling.  The second tequila was delicious.  Mabel thought so, too.  She helped drink quite a bit that night.
2 I was proud of my conversational skills.  I still have a long way to go with commenting on things when I'm not the person at whom the comment was originally aimed, but I held my own in a big crowd.
3 This was a group of English teachers, but they spoke Spanish almost the whole time.  After several hours of flowing tequila, more English was spoken.
4 Almost all of the women thought I had done the program to find a husband.  Ha!  They couldn't understand the concept of professional development or self-betterment.  I tried my best to explain my reasoning, but it all seemed Greek to them.
5 Mabel loves saying my name.  It sounds like this: "Lou (like ouch) rah Klah peck eh."  She had a lot of fun with it, and since she is one of the few who actually knows my last name, it's hilarious to hear.
6 While we were speaking English, I found myself choosing easier, more common words.  I wondered if that ever popped into her head.  It seems like no.  She asked me several times to slow down, that I was talking to fast.  Well welcome, my friend, to my world!
7 There were moments of "almost jealousy" that I took as good things (well, at least the language one).  After telling Mabel, "Welcome to my world," she told me she wasn't in my world.  That I was in her house and that I could understand faster than she could.  Compliment in Mabel-speak?  Yes.  Referring to #4 above, we discussed the Culichi men and how there just aren't a lot of good looking ones.  How in Sonora, just one state north, they were everywhere you looked!  Mabel them told the room that I had found plenty.  What?!  She told them that I get rides all the time from strangers.  That they just see me waiting for the bus and pick me up. A- this is fabricated.  B- the rides I have gotten were from non-attractive men (or men with their wives) and that doesn't count.  But I think it was the jealous tequila talking.

I had not heard from Alma since she had sent me a message on facebook saying "party Saturday."  I had asked her when and where, but no response.  Little did I know that Mabel had run into her at the English office earlier in the week and they had discussed details.
Around 11:30 (6 hours later!), Mabel suggested we head to the other party.
I grabbed the keys and ushered us out of there.  Kisses all around.

No comments: