Nothing like raw carnage BLEH!
This was to be our lunch. It turned out better than delicious.
Carlos and Marisela with the fish and spices.
Mabel cutting lemons.
Cool. I messed around doing a lot of nothing when I probably should've been catching a nap! At two on the dot she was here to pick me up. I left in my tank top and shorts (very non-Mexican, but no biggie hangin' with the fam, right?
So we show up at the house and there are chairs and tables set up in the garage/patio. "Who's coming to lunch?" I ask. "Some friends and family," she responds, very nonchalantly. Okay. Would've been nice to know for dress code purposes, but it's fine. We go into the kitchen and help Carlos and Marisela with the preparation. I mostly helped by eating the crackers and cheese.
I think Marisela can do anything she wants. She is the head cook in the house and is great at explaining how to make just about anything. She made pico de gallo while I watched. Then she and Carlos dressed the fish. That was just about enough to make me lose my lunch. I'm not one for raw meat. It took me back to the dissecting days in high school when Mom wanted me to gut a chicken and I had to stop to save it from being dressed in vomit.
Around 3, things were beginning to come together. At home, I had mentally reprimanded myself for eating a relatively heavy breakfast because I knew lunch would be great and had visions of eating right at 2. Ha! The dressed fish sat on the counter until long after Carlos's family started showing up at 3:30. Apparently this was a birthday lunch. I had NO IDEA. I began to realize that my hopes of possibly running around the block and then taking a nap were in vain.
Carlos's little sister Alesandra and their cousin (not sure she ever told me her name) entertained me for a bit. They were eleven. Of course, they were dressed much better than I, and they looked closer to 18. We spend the better part of an hour talking about my exchange and learning English. We talked family and hobbies as well as good places to visit in the country of Mexico. The cousin was funny in that she didn't love repeating herself and didn't understand why I might not understand her (She was a crazy mumbler! At one point, she looked at Alesandra and said, "She doesn't understand me." I explained that she was mumbling and Alesandra had my back and said, "I didn't understand what you said, either."). After awhile, the food was ready. It was really good fish with tortillas of course. I had way more than my fair share (especially after having eaten about half a stick of cream cheese!), but it was delicious and I couldn't stop.
One of my first weekends in Culiacán, Mabel and I went to Cosalá, the "magical town." Marisol was the friend we went with. She came to this birthday party on Sunday and I hadn't seen her since that weekend in September. It was good to see her.
Around 6, I hit a wall. I had been planning on being home by 4, around the block by 5 and asleep and back awake by 7. I had to excuse myself from the table for awhile. I was so tired that even I could hear how terrible my Spanish sounded. I also was not comprehending like I knew I should be. So I went to Papá's living room and sat in the swivel rocker. I passed out for about 20 minutes. I needed more, but left it at that. I stayed in there with Alesandra, her two other brothers (not Carlos), and her cousin. Cosette was running in and out being really loud and squeaky. I watched the clock tick minute by minute from 7:00 until 8:00. I had played out the conversation in my head of asking Mabel if I could drive the car home and if Demien (ex-husband) could take her and Cosette home. That was to go down at 8. At 8:02, Mabel came in and said, "Let's go." I didn't argue. I actually didn't speak. The whole way home. Or up to my room. She hasn't seen my "hasn't slept/acts like a bear" persona yet. I figured not speaking was the best option.
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