La Cena de Las Papas

I always Google Translate all the Spanish emails I get from Birdie and Deevie's school room mothers, and some of the attempts at translation are pretty funny. "La Cena de las Papas" was at first "A Potato Dinner." I clicked on the "other possibilities" and it became, "A Dinner of the Pope." And then the body of the email kept saying things that "las mamas" (or "the breasts") needed to do. The breasts need to prepare potatoes for the Pope? Ugh!

Anyway, thanks to the babysitting of our lovely fellow consulate neighbor, I was able to go to Deevie's "Dinner for the Parents" last night, hosted by the parents of one of her classmates. Some of the finer points of the wonderful evening:

1) Holy hotel lobby! That's what the living room looked like, with the dinner tables set out on the patio, under the glorious purple, flower-scented Guadalajara evening sky. Full service staff was on hand in formal uniforms.

2) Beginning time for the dinner...NINE P.M.?!? I still can't get used to the late night events around here. We started eating at 1045, and introductions around the room started at 12:05am. I finally got home just before 1am -- on a school night.

3) After initially feeling extremely intimidated by the gorgeous, very dressed up moms I saw at the school, I now love, love, love the parents around these parts and have only been treated with the upmost kindness and warmth. For one thing, they are so involved in their kids school and activities, many of the moms dropping off and picking up their kids every day. Deevie's teacher (from Minnesota, this is her first year in Guadalajara) has taught 20 years in the States and in her introduction she hit on the fact that as an educator, it is so wonderful and refreshing for her to be so in-tune with the parents of her students, working together on the kids' behalf. "I don't know where the parents are in the States. But I never saw many of them when I taught there!" she said. I chimed in and said, "They were working!" (Like me!)

4) I sat at the greatest table of parents. (N, by the way, was not with me. He was rockin' out at the Aerosmith concert, you see. :)) To my right was a couple from Argentina, who had moved to Guadalajara in June. The father, named Pedro, spoke very good English, and helped translate things I didn't understand, and together with everyone at the table, kept me laughing most of the night. "So is Spanish that different between Mexico and Argentina?" I asked the table. "I mean, can you tell that he is not from Mexico?" Pedro turned to me and said, "Can you tell when someone is from England?" Aha. Of course. I've never thought about these things before, as lame as that sounds!

There is so much more to tell, but overall, it really was a wonderful evening. I'm sorry N missed it. We met up at home and compared notes on our evenings. He'll get to experience another Cena de las Papas TONIGHT when we head out to attend the one for Birdie's class....starting at a las 9 de la noche.

Interesante

At a recent birthday party in Deevie's class, one of the Mexican moms asked me what these are called in English:

Party blower thingy? I had no idea! Anyway, she told me that in Spanish they're called "espantasuegras," which literally translates to "scare the mother-in-law." She blew one out and said that the action, easily associated with blowing up a lady's skirt, is a daughter-in-law's way of saying "humfph!" to something annoying the "suegra" does or says. So much tied up in a little thing! I love learning things like this.

And for the record, both N and I have very cool and loveable suegras. ;)

Hardship

I talked to my grandma yesterday and one thing she said struck me. "It sure sounds like you're having a good time!" she said. "Is anything hard at all?" I laughed, because of course things are hard. We just don't blog about it for some reason. As you can see, it's hard enough for us to blog when things are great!

Guadalajara on a whole is a fantastic place. But it's still not home. An American mom friend from school mentioned a statistic to me - that living out of your home country is like 30% harder on top of all the other crap that makes life hard. We thought it was funny and sort of ridiculous that anyone would even try to quantify an actual percentage. But I do understand the general cloud of stress, pressure, something hanging over all of us as we go about life here.

Sometimes I just want to ball up and stay at home all day. But of course with a household to run, dinner to get on the table, kids to cheer up and be an example for, I can't do that. I worry about the kids and their ability to make actual friends. And then I worry about leaving in two years and them having to leave any friends they've made in the first place. I worry about missing out on things back home. I stress about not being as supportive to N as I could be, and worry about us dealing with our issues individually instead of communicating. I worry that I trust people too much - our household help, the construction workers in the neighborhood, the guys who deliver water. Not being able to speak fluently, and not understanding cultural nuances, is very frustrating. I feel like an imbecile a lot of the time, even while doing things that you'd think were normal -- like getting groceries, or getting gas, or even taking a walk with Cubby. Tipping! Goodness, that is a big one. I never know when or how much to tip, and often feel sweat forming as I fumble around in my purse for money. Even swiping my credentials to get into the school makes me think twice. "Do Mexicans do this a different way?" I ask myself. "Does my jalopy of a stroller just scream 'American'?" "Is my internal discomfort manifesting itself externally?" These are the crazy thoughts that often run through my head, as pathetic as it is! But in good moments, this is all fodder for laughter with N and other friends who are going through the same thing. In bad, it's all reason for me to buy comfort stuff online. (Just kidding, N! Ha ha...er...um.)

My friend back home asked how things were going here, and as I told her, "Well, it's still just life. I still have to figure out what to cook tonight!"

Plus or minus 30% more stress :).

Fun, fun weekend

On Saturday we tagged along with some friends for a visit to Chapala--actually, a bit west of Chapala--to another little hot springs pool place called Hotel Balneario San Juan Cosalá.

On the way in a woman was selling raspberries in 1 liter cups for 20 pesos--about 1.60usd. We bought two and stuffed ourselves. 

There are two main pools, one with waterslides, both with great views of the lake. (And I think there might be other pools just for hotel guests--not sure.) The food was good, the kids wore themselves out, Narra got a massage... everyone had fun. Definitely planning to go back.

And today we met up with work peeps for our first (and maybe only) Pan American Games event: fútbol--Trinidad and Tobago vs. Ecuador at Omnilife stadium. We got there about 45 minutes late and then took our time (first stop: cotton candy) because the girls never have any staying power at sporting events. But they were enjoying this one and it turned out our tickets were good for the next game, too, so we stuck around and watched the first half of Cuba-Argentina.

Attendance was super low, so all the food lines were short, etc., and somehow our 30 peso tickets put us 4 rows from the field. Cubby even had a good time! We walked him around the concession area, which had a perfect view of the field. Win-win. He stayed in good spirits, mostly, and fell asleep in the Baby Bjorn on the way out. Charmed day.

Oktoberfest, Guadalajara Style

The whole family went to an Oktoberfest festival (is that redundant?) last Saturday and enjoyed a perfect weather evening outdoors. There was bad booming music, bratwurst, fries (with lots of chili and lime of course!), beer, and these awesome free balloon-type things that kept the kids busy all evening. One especially cool thing was the fresh pine needels that cushioned the "family" section (right by the Telcel moonbounce). It was wonderful to picnic and sit about with that amazing scent wafting around us. Not sure if that's a Mexico thing, but what a great idea.

Initially we weren't going to go into the festival grounds because the long ticket lines (separate from the long line to get into the venue) looked terrible. The kids were cranky, and the music really sounded like bad death metal. So for almost an hour, we instead rented a surrey bike and pedaled around the park. Best idea ever.

But a call from a friend in the ticket line, and other calls to families already within the fence, made us decide to rally.

At one point N laughed when he got off the phone, relaying to me a comment from one of the other dads already fest-ing away. "He said they're getting hammered." Obviously this was sarcastic, since the dad in quesiton was with his 2 year old daughter. But later as we made our way toward the entrance, Deevie tugged on my arm and asked:

"When do we get our hammers?"

Construction

Where we live is a newer development. There are still a bunch of houses under construction, which has never really bothered me because it felt nice to be amongst people during my days at home.

UNTIL NOW. They broke ground on the lot NEXT to our house! Ugh. Our view blocked. Dust in every open window. Noise, noise, noise. I just hope it is done by the time N's parents visit for Christmas!

On a positive note, it's nice to feel like we're in an up and growing neighborhood. I'll keep telling myself that...

Do Not Question the Deevie

For the past few weeks, Deevie has been breaking into song, saying something that sounded like "Papa Americano!" All the rest of the family would correct her, saying that it MUST be "Pan-Americano" or something affiliated with the Pan American Games that start tonight in Guadalajara.

So this morning, as I drove with Cubby to a yoga class, listening to 98.7 (my favorite Guadalajara radio station that often plays some of my old staples by Depeche Mode, the Cure, Morrissey, etc), on comes a song that distinctly sings "PAPA Americano." I was curious enough to Google it when I got home, and this video is what I found.

I apologized to Deevie immediately. She was very happy that she was right.

Deevie: "We watched this video at school! It's funny!"

Me: "Why in the world would you watch this video at school?!"

Deevie (rolling her eyes, as if I'm the most clueless person in the world): "Because of the Pan-American Games."

And now Deevie is of course singing the "Papa Americano" part over and over as she scoots around on her EZ Roller.

Deevie: "Why did you guys keep correcting me?! Now I get confused between Pan-Americano and Papa Americano! I was right BEFORE!!!"

Sorry, sweetie! :)