One, Two, Three, Tamarindo!

At the party on Saturday night, the banda played a song called "Tamarindo."  Actually, that may not be the name of the song, but the repeating line is the title of this entry, starting with English numbers.

My friends were all singing and asked me how to say tamarindo en English.  I didn't even know what it was except that it was a fruit.  Alma couldn't translate it either.  Karla proceeded to draw this fruit, but suffice it to say she has no career in art!  After several explanations by all involved, we decided it was just a fruit that we don't have in the US.  I was content with this answer.  They solved the translation issue by saying the word without rolling the r and using a gringo accent.  We all got several laughs out of that.  

The girls decided I needed to experience a tamarindo, so we said Sunday would be the day for a raspado de tamarindo.  I was okay with that given it's been months since I've had a raspado.  They then started making a list of all the cultural foods and drinks (Tecate excluded) from here that I must try before I leave.  

Sunday, after we got back from Alma's grandmother's house and she and Lenin went to his family's house, I got a text from Mayrita saying they'd come pick me up at 8:30 to go get raspados.  

The three of us went to pick up Mayra Loca and met up with Karla and her friend (Graciela?) at the malecón.  Raspachos, Mabel's favorite raspado-maker, sets up a cart on the malecón on Sundays.  Think of the malecón as the walking version of Glasgow's cruising strip.

Mayrita bought my icee and then we went to get the Mexicans some warm food.  They were all whiny about the "cold" as I chomped on my frozen delicacy.  The tamarindo flavor is good, but they fruit is really seedy, and the kind of seeds you can't eat.  So from here on out, I'll be sticking to piña or other flavors that are seedless.

When we finished hanging out there, and after Chapo and Lenin had joined us, we decided it was dinner time.  Having only had soup and birthday cake for lunch hours before, I was happy to tag along.  Even though it was 10:30 and I needed to get in bed for school, I dealt with it!

We went to Emporio Sushi (that had not been my favorite, by the way, but that serves half-orders, so that's a bonus), but it was closed.  We all laughed at my Vasito tale.

We made our way to The Sushi Factory (I kid you not; that's the name) and enjoyed a very late dinner.  When the bill came (330 pesos for 5 people), Lenin paid for it all.  Instead of getting bent out of shape, I just said thank you, realizing I had done the same thing just a week before.