Which party will it be?

I got Mom on her way back to the US and took advantage of the hotel as long as I could. I got my blogs up to date and have plans to go Monday to the mall and get my broad-band situation worked out. After getting a nice strong, steamy shower at the hotel, and taking advantage of their wi-fi in the lobby, I taxied it back to the house. I could’ve taken a bus, but that would’ve required sweating and dragging a suitcase four blocks. I passed on that.
I got home around 5 and no one was there. I decided to be productive, so I unpacked some things and then got out my Spanish class homework. I have a four page short story to understand well enough to be able to debate any issue for any character on Monday. The problem is, there is at least one word in every sentence I don’t know! I took comfort in knowing that my Mexican classmates also needed a dictionary for some of it. I started reading and defining until Alma got home from her event on Saturday. PISI is the name of the Saturday program at Centro de Idiomas and it’s for children. This was the 25 year anniversary, so they had a two day event with conferences and presentations.
When she got home, we caught up a little bit on the weeks events and she told me that Lenin had a wedding that night before the party that she had already told me about (I told you there were always multiple parties). I could tell she was not sure what to do with me because it was kind of an invitation only gig. She said Lenin would come pick her up at 10 and then they would go to the wedding for a bit. After they made their appearance, they would come get me and we’d go to the other party. She asked me if I’d heard from anyone else and what they were doing and I said no. It’s pretty much assumed at this point that I’ll go wherever Alma goes. She said she had invited Mayrita to go to our second party and she was game.
Alma’s plan was to take a short nap, then go get her hair straightened, and then come back and get ready for the wedding. I figured I had time for a great nap starting about 8 since I was accustomed to early bedtimes (not that early, but earlier than 3am) from Mom’s visit. Then I would be ready around 1 when I assumed they would make their way to pick me up.
Alma had not been gone upstairs to nap 2 minutes before she was back downstairs. “Laura. You’re not going to believe this,” she says laughing. Apparently she had accidentally dialed Lenin while she was in the den with me. So when we were talking, he heard everything. He told her to be careful what she says and who she calls. Ha! Anyway, he said that if I wanted to go to the wedding instead of waiting at home alone, he would call his cousin Cristian (who had gone out with us the first weekend I lived with Alma and who was also at Lenin’s birthday party) and see if he had a date. Alma found out about this wedding on Friday, so I’m guessing there wasn’t a lot of preparation on the guests’ part. Cristian said no he didn’t have a date and yes was planning on going to the wedding. Done.
So while Alma sleeps and gets her hair straightened, I read and eat some Samoas (Thanks, Mom!). Around 8, I decided to try out my nap theory and it worked. I slept until about 9:15, waking up groggy, but knowing in the long run it would be better to have slept some. I was ready, of course, at 9:50, and waited about 30 minutes while Alma finished getting ready and for Lenin to arrive.
When Lenin got there, he was so excited to see me and chatty. He hadn’t gotten to go to Wings on Wednesday because Alma was sick, so he didn’t get to meet Mom and we hadn’t seen each other in a week! He was cracking me up. I asked him if he had missed me and he said, “Yeah. I was asking every day where you were. First you go to Mazatlán; then you stay in a hotel with your Mom. Four days in a hotel in Culiacán when you have a house? Do you have a boyfriend now? Is the hotel manager your boyfriend or what? Where have you been?” It was hilarious. And he said that he could tell a difference in my face again. He said that when Ashley was here. That he could see that I was happy. He said, you got to see your mom for a week. I don’t know what I’d do without my mom for a week. Who would fix my meals, iron my clothes, etc? What a difference in culture, huh?
We made our way back to Lenin (and Mabel)’s side of town, picked up Cristian, and met up with another couple. From there, we drove to the site of the reception. Whether the wedding had been there or not, I’m not sure. I got the feeling this was a church wedding.
Chapo and Karla met up with us in the parking lot. Apparently Chapo, Lenin, Cristian, and the fourth guy (Omar I think) all went to high school together here in Culiacán. I think Chapo and Karla were part of the Koopa Troopa before Lenin was Alma’s boyfriend, but the fact that he knew some of them from before helped ease the transition.
When we walked into this place, we had to give our passes. The place was outside and had two really pretty open buildings, fountains, and nice lighting. There were tables with white tablecloths and white chairs. The banda was playing when we got there, but shortly after took a break and they played music from a stereo.
We got there late, of course, which was the plan, so there was no table with 8 seats together. We stood for awhile until we found a place with four seats and the girls sat while the guys stood. I talked for a long time with Gabi, Omar’s girlfriend. She started our conversation by asking if I’d ever been to that place before. I said no, but that I wasn’t from Culiacán. That started the typical conversation and we spent a good thirty minutes chatting. Turns out she was at Bavaria the night we went dancing for no other reason than that Liliana wanted to (That’s the German pub that plays just awful music and is so hot, so I’m always thankful we get there less than two hours before it closes!). That night at Bavaria, she and I had talked some, about the music, the dancing, the heat. Blame it on the limited conversation or the noise, but she didn’t place me as a foreigner. Even with my American dress complete with flip flops.
As she and I were wrapping up our Q&A session, the guys found an empty table. It was beginning to be time for people to leave. Many of them had probably been at the wedding since 7. We (or at least I) didn’t notice that they had called all the single ladies. They all had their veils on (the kind I had made at Liliana’s house) and danced around in a circle around the bride until she threw something. I don’t think it was a bouquet, but I didn’t see, so who knows. Well, when it was time for the single men, all the guys got up from our table and were pumped about it. I feel like in the US, it’s like pulling teeth to get either gender out there. The guys donned aprons and went through the same spiel of dancing in a circle, but then they got some tree branches (with mostly leaves) and made a gamut. The groom had to run through. Then there was a point when they lifted him up and tossed him around more or less cheerleader style. They threatened to throw him into the fountain, but he put up a big enough fight.
There were some specific dances and some specific pictures, and then it was time for everyone to dance. Nightmare. Everyone from my table got up. Ugh. Luckily, Cristian knew me well enough to know that I hate Mexican music and dancing, so he looked at me like, “Yes or no?” Well, I hated to be the only party-pooper out of basically the entire guest-list, so I said okay. Out we went to the dance floor, and straight out of a horror movie, it was banda music. It’s the awful Mexican meets German tuba music. It’s really awful. Never in my life will I choose to listen to it. However, I am 100% certain that after this year here, if I hear it somewhere else, I will be very reminiscent. (Mom got to experience a lot of the música banda, so ask her how awful it is.)
The first two or three songs were mostly dance by yourself songs, so we all did in a big circle. There were your typical solos in the middle (whether you wanted to or not). Then it was the serious banda that requires a partner. I will do my impression for you if you ask, of what I think dancing banda looks like. It is the goofiest looking dance I have ever seen. White-man-lip-bite included. I told Cristian he was in for it because I had never danced it and had no clue where to start. Well, either he was really good (which he is a good dancer), or banda is much easier than I thought. It’s a lot of jumping around, so it was quite the workout. We all danced probably 10 songs of banda before we got hot, sweaty, and worn out. I admit it was fun. I was super thankful that the party was outside because I was almost cool earlier when we were sitting and chatting. When we started dancing, I got hot and needed a ponytail, but I wasn’t sweating head to toe like I do when we’re inside somewhere!
We all pretty much unanimously decided to sit down for a breather, but when we got to the table, we found out that they had run out of Tecate Light. Well, that’s pretty much the sign that the party’s over! We went over to the fountains and had a 20 minute photo session, and then we made our way out of the party.
I’m always with whomever I’m with. Meaning, I’m going wherever they go. I assumed we were going to Alma’s party, but I was along for the ride wherever.
Our first stop was the gas station because we were sittin’ on empty! We got there, and sat some more. In Mexico, they still pump it for you. Lenin and Cristian got out to go buy stuff in the Oxxo while Alma and I waited for the gas man to come pump. Alma actually asked if he had gas attendants because she didn’t see the need for them. I told her that in some very small towns, there might still be one gas station that does that, but that it’s been about 15-20 years since it was a given in the US. After we had been waiting about 15 minutes, we realized we still weren’t being waited on, and the boys were not going into the Oxxo. They were standing talking to someone from the gas station. Apparently they were out of gas. I know Mom’s going to get a kick out of this because she thought it was so funny that the Oxxo was out of phone time. We could see the gas trucks at the gas station that was connected to the one where we were, so apparently we had to wait our turn. I, of course, being American in nature was thinking, “Why don’t we just get outta here and go to another station?!” Instead of phrasing it that way, I said to Alma, “What’s taking so long?” She said what I already knew: the gas truck was filling up the pumps because they were out of gas. Okay.
After another 5 minutes passed and more cars had come and gone, the guys came back to the car and we went to another gas station.
Chapo and Karla had been in charge of going to get beer and meeting back up with us at the party, wherever that may be! They were talking about how annoyed Chapo was that it took us so long to get to the wedding (Lenin had to cross town to pick us up and then back to where the party was, not to mention he always runs on Andy time.), so I think finally they were trying to hurry up. We got our gas, ice and cigarettes (BLAH) and headed to the post-boda (after wedding party). This is very popular here. It got popular about the same time as the dressing up at the reception (with the favors we made at Lili’s). We got to the party and Chapo was nowhere to be found. He and Karla had gone to get dinner. Ha! So we made ourselves comfortable outside the bride of groom’s family’s house with our ice and no beer. The banda was apparently contracted until 6am! It played on and on. The girls sat and chatted while the boys stood, smoked and drank. Lenin introduced me to a friend of his from high school, saying that I was here on an exchange from the US. This was apparently interesting enough to him. After shaking my hand, he held on for quite awhile. Then he went away. He came back later, when the banda was in its prime and grabbed my hand and said, “We’re going to dance. You need to learn to dance.” I told him I knew how to dance, thank you. He said, “Yeah, but not banda.” And of course I set him straight. Karla was there by this point and only encouraged it, taking my purse off my shoulder. Thanks so much Karla. Alma and Gabi just smiled at me. I mean, where’s my girl support here?!
So there we were, in the middle of the street (that had been blocked off by some cars) dancing banda, my second time that night. He had a few more steps than Cristian (and few more whiskeys), but he stepped on my feet more than I would’ve liked. He was good at the dance, but he was moving too fast and adding things, so my feet weren’t following where he wanted them to. Thank goodness the song ended and the band took a break. I returned to my seat and to laughter from my girls. Thanks for nothing.
Before I knew it, the music was playing again, and he was dragging me to dance again. This time I was done, so thankfully there was a car that was going to run over us (leaving the party) if we didn’t move. He got the point (more or less) after that. At one point, he was coming back toward us, and I said, “Alma, is he coming?” And she said, “Well, he looks like he wants to dance with you, but he’s keeping his distance.”
Mayrita, Jair and Nadia showed up with a hot dog for Alma at that point, and they told us about their night at Bavaria.
A little after three, we called it a night and headed home. I was glad to crawl into my bed!