Oh no, Chancho!

        

    Something was making the worse noise Becca had possibly ever heard, something loud. Something was screaming in horrible bursts of terror.

            These were Becca’s first thoughts as she awoke on that Friday morning. As she swam into consciousness she recognized the sound; one of the pigs was pissed. Wait, no, not pissed, scared. She checked her watch, 6:03 am, too early for scared pigs. She rolled over and tried to ignore the sound but the pig just got louder and louder until Becca was certain it was actually inside her room.

            And then the sounds swiftly changed; screaming, screaming, gurgling, gurgling, nothing. Her early morning world was silent again but she found herself laying wide eyed on her bed unable to drift back into peaceful slumber.

On a completely unrelated note...

            Chancho* was served late that night at her Aunt’s birthday party, Becca could only stare at it in the bowl blankly. Luckily, the night was mostly consumed with dancing, drinking and making faces at her niece, Grace. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

            Like most really important events, Becca was informed during lunch that there was going to be a party that evening and she had to attend. That night, her sister grabbed her arm and pulled her outside without explanation. When they reached the door of her aunt’s house, Mireli whispered excitedly,

            “Mariachi,” she pointed down the street and sure enough a Mariachi band was walking toward them; two guitars, two trumpets, and a female singer all dressed in black and gold. As they started playing their first song, Becca found herself grinning wildly. Somehow, this music that she’d at least heard a few times in her life, felt so good, felt so...familiar. She laughed softly to herself at the fact that Mexican music felt like home.

            They played for an hour and then the food was served. Becca avoided dinner by playing with her niece who bounced back and forth between being her best friend and crying when she got too close. This was a typical dance they did. When Grace’s love ran out, Becca’s aunt insisted that they drink whiskey and jonki in celebration of her birthday; a proposal no one could say no to. After some imbibing, Becca’s Uncle Alex asked her to dance, and then another uncle, and then her aunt, and then another aunt until she finally had to sneak away and find a seat.

            One of her cousins offered her beer and feeling just fine, she drank a glass. At this, Becca’s host mom who had been watching decided it was time to go and pulled her outside.

            “I’m worried about you, hijita, that was a lot of beer, you should go sleep now,” she said. Becca looked at her watch; 11 pm and she’d danced, drank, and said her thank yous and happy birthdays. She smiled, hugged her mom and went upstairs. It was hours before the music stopped and at least three episodes of How I Met Your Mother before Becca slept but the next morning, she found that she wasn’t woken until eight.

*Pig

(Pictures: aunts and cousins. the famous sobrina Grace, mariachi!)

La Navidad: Not a Popular Holiday Amongst Pigs

            When Becca told people in the states before her departure about her impending adventure, the topic of the holidays always seemed to come up. The holidays are going to be really hard. When she met people in Cruz del Medano and the surrounding area, the topic came up again. You’re here for two years, but are you spending Christmas here? What about your family?

            For as long as she could remember, Christmas had been Becca’s favorite holiday. Surrendering to her least favorites like Thanksgiving and even to the more beloved like Fourth of July and President’s Day, even to her own birthday, Christmas was in short, the bomb. When she was a little kid, she adored the candle-light singing at church on Christmas eve, spending time with her family, opening presents, and sitting around all day on Christmas doing a whole lot of nothing. In high school, every day from December first to the end of school, she wrote out cheerful notes to her closest friends and included little treats and presents. In college, she braved the icy mountain passes year after year to make it home for singing, present, and more than anything else, her family. But this year, Christmas was very different.

            Noche Buena (Christmas Eve), which was always the more celebrated of the two days in her family, started decently. She woke up feeling well for the first time in a week, at least well enough to shower. Of course then she got stung by a bee. Luckily after that came breakfast with her  host family and helping to make the final Paneton.* As the afternoon wore in she became increasingly less sure of the day’s plan and purpose and got different answers from everyone. But evening she returned to her home to find her family milling in and out of the kitchen to the front of the house. Making a crucial error in stopping where some of them had crowded by the oven, she found the chanchito* she thought was missing from the back yard, though she didn’t at first recognize it without fur or skin...

            The evening brought a lot of...well, waiting around and confusion. Around eight they had a small dinner, around nine Becca’s sister, Sandra, and her dad fell asleep, around ten, she found herself in the living room watching the news while her family either slept or ran around with cousin. At eleven, her sister Mireli and her cousins brought her to a misa (mass) in the church by the park. The service was a little confusing but she was happy to spend time with her family and see a lot of her friends from the community.

            After the mass they walked home and found a house of sleeping family members, which they promptly woke up because it was officially midnight and la navidad! Confusion struck again as Mireli grabbed three baby figurines and led Becca into the front room to be the Madrina. She quickly learned that this meant placing each baby on each level of the nativity scene. Her father prayed afterward, dedicating the moment to their newest family member and they all clapped.

            Fifteen minutes later they had moved the table outside near the giant Christmas tree, filled it with food, and taken their places around it. The ate, the talked, they slept sitting upright at the table, Becca had her first taste of jonki* and then the kids (Becca included) went inside to take a few pictures. By three AM, Becca was relieved to hear Mireli say that she was going to bed and so was their mom, Becca took herself off to slumber as well.        

            Sitting in her bed the next morning at six, listening to the silent house around her, she couldn’t help but feel like something was entirely off. Usually by six, she was feeling guilty about being in bed while her mom cooked downstairs and her dad started making the bread. This guilt typically roused her by 6:30 (7 on a rough morning) but on Christmas Day, everyone slept until 9. They had a breakfast that included her mom downing another shot of jonki, which she lovingly rose in toast to Becca.

            The rest of the day was quiet, so quiet that Becca had to ask more than once what they were going to do today. Each time the reply was the same: it’s Christmas. In the afternoon she watched 17 Again with her sisters and sitemate, overjoyed that they found it funny and commented on just how guapo they think Zac Efron is. Evening brought dinner and a visit to a friend’s house and by 10 Becca found herself climbing the stairs up to bed once more, her first Peruvian Navidad behind her.

*See: Peruvian fruit cake, except everyone loves it...

*Baby pig

*Possibly some form of grain alcohol