Last night we had an evening out at a Mexican home of a woman who cleans apartments for folks who don't live here year round but still want their houses clean. We know her as Patti, but turns out she's better known as Angelica at home and Clara to the couple next door for a reason that no one understands. I really really didn't want to go because I was sure I'd say something dumb in Spanish but I decided that everyone makes dumb statements so I might as well face it and go. I'm glad we did.
January 6th is the Day of the Kings, when those three kings finally made it to the Christ child and gave away those presents, so that's when Mexican kids traditionally get their presents. The other part of it is the big cake made in the form of a wreath, with maybe 8 little plastic Jesus babies in it. If your slice of the cake has a baby Jesus, you have to foot the bill for the tamales at the NEXT fiesta on Feb. 2. That's the last official fiesta of the Christmas season. Of course I got a baby Jesus and of course Richard didn't. However, the good part is that now we're part of the next fiesta, no question.
When we walked through Angelica's house I could see where Arturo is coming from with his apartment decorations. We're living in an apartment that's right on the cusp between Mexican and American and we're paying the sort of money where it should be more American than Mexican. At least in our eyes. But Arturo is trying very hard to keep us happy. Rick, the guy who did live next door, just left us his keys and found a new and nicer place. Technically he could be taken to court because he and Arturo had a contract, but I doubt Arturo will because that place is really pretty bad. We're more optomistic than we were, although it's interesting to see what will quit working next. The electricity went off last night for awhile and I thought that maybe that was the next big thing, but it went back on, so we're still in the 21st century.
Hair is another thing, and if you're a male you can just skip this. If you're female, you'll understand. Richard's hair is made for heat and humidity. He never has to use the hairdryer. Mine starts out nice and fluffy but by the time we're to the bottom of the hill I look like a 30's movie. Remember those waves that stuck to the heads of the women in the 30's? That's me. If you're old enough to know who Mimi Eisenhower was, you know those waves. I hate those waves, but there you are. I never give up, but so far it's waves 30 Rita 0.
January 6th is the Day of the Kings, when those three kings finally made it to the Christ child and gave away those presents, so that's when Mexican kids traditionally get their presents. The other part of it is the big cake made in the form of a wreath, with maybe 8 little plastic Jesus babies in it. If your slice of the cake has a baby Jesus, you have to foot the bill for the tamales at the NEXT fiesta on Feb. 2. That's the last official fiesta of the Christmas season. Of course I got a baby Jesus and of course Richard didn't. However, the good part is that now we're part of the next fiesta, no question.
When we walked through Angelica's house I could see where Arturo is coming from with his apartment decorations. We're living in an apartment that's right on the cusp between Mexican and American and we're paying the sort of money where it should be more American than Mexican. At least in our eyes. But Arturo is trying very hard to keep us happy. Rick, the guy who did live next door, just left us his keys and found a new and nicer place. Technically he could be taken to court because he and Arturo had a contract, but I doubt Arturo will because that place is really pretty bad. We're more optomistic than we were, although it's interesting to see what will quit working next. The electricity went off last night for awhile and I thought that maybe that was the next big thing, but it went back on, so we're still in the 21st century.
Hair is another thing, and if you're a male you can just skip this. If you're female, you'll understand. Richard's hair is made for heat and humidity. He never has to use the hairdryer. Mine starts out nice and fluffy but by the time we're to the bottom of the hill I look like a 30's movie. Remember those waves that stuck to the heads of the women in the 30's? That's me. If you're old enough to know who Mimi Eisenhower was, you know those waves. I hate those waves, but there you are. I never give up, but so far it's waves 30 Rita 0.
Love this story! For some reason I didn't know you were a blogger! Awesomeness!
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