Chicharrones
In my American house, we have flashlights. In my Mexican house, we don´t.
After enjoying a cool, trickling shower, I rested in my hammock to let my dripping hair dry to a slightly damp frizz which I could straighten. I pulled the flat-iron through my hair, steam rising to heat my face. Halfway done, I stepped back and tilted my head to the ceiling, letting each oscillation of the fan dry the beads of sweat on my face.
When the sky let loose with my first Mexican rain, I thought, so much for straight hair. I shut the window so the computer wouldn´t get wet and pointlessly began on the other half of my head. A few tugs of the flat iron. Dark. The rain had overpowered the electricity in Merida.
Left with nothing else to do, I went and sat on the living room couch with my Mexican mother, Rosi. We reveled in the of coolness of the rain, windows open, protected by the overhang of the patio. We sat in silence, and I was struck with a feeling of de ja vu. Five minutes passed. Summer Camp. This was like those afternoons at my childhood summer camp where, left with no other options, we lay on our beds and heard nothing but the rain in the trees.
After finished her shower by memory, Paulina joined us. We sat in the semi-darkness, discussing the differences between American and Yucatecan cuisine, the slowing rain providing our soundtrack.
You know, cottage cheese. It´s white, half liquid, half solid. It comes in a plastic container. Yeah, like little balls. Oh, you mean cottage cheese. Yeah, cottage cheese.
Pau wanted popcorn. I reminded her that the microwave would not be working. The rain had all but stopped but there was no sign of power returning and the sun had been driven from the sky. I could no longer make out the expressions on their faces. Rosi lit candles, and Pau had an idea.
Chicharrones. What? Come on, I´ll show you. Small pasta like O´s became crispy, greasy snacks after a few seconds in crackling hot oil. And like everything else, we topped them with hot sauce.
When Rosi and Jose Louis left for the Super, it was just us and the chicharrones. Teach me English, she said.
My name is Paulina. I am 24 years old. I have two sisters. I am a pre-school teacher. My friend Jenna lives at my house. She teaches my English. She teaches me English. I teach her Spanish. We are waiting for Ted and Nelson.
When the rain slowed, they were coming to pick us up. With a mischievous glint in my eye, I said, Pau, this is a secret conversation, just between you and me. And then we saw the headlights of their little, red, rusty car. All we could do was look at each other and laugh. It was the hardest we had laughed in the two weeks since I´d come. Still laughing when they came in the door, Nelson asked, what´s up?
Nada, we said. Nothing. Everything.
As you can probably tell, this would be me attempting to be more creative in my writing style. Please feel free to leave suggestions. Especially if there are parts that don´t make sense.
In my normal style: The Latin Jazz concert on Saturday night was great. None of them like to dance so that will have to wait. Sunday after church, we stopped at Ted and Nelson´s apartment where I later learned that we were picking up our lunch, a HUGE, gross looking fish. Back and Pau´s, Ted sliced it open, smothered it with butter and red sauce, and sliced tomatoes, onion, and green pepper over it. Then it was wrapped in banana leaves and aluminum foil and put on the grill for about a hour. It was delicious. And when I said huge, I meant huge. Four of us ate our fill and there were leftovers.
It looks gross but it´s just sauce!
Nelson, the grill master
Jenna, the eater!
Ted and Pau, singing in the dark
PS: Something I appreciate about the United States:
If I were a Mexican sitting in the library at IU Med School ( or even at IWU for that matter), no one would know that I wasn´t a student there. But I definitely stick out here:) Most days, the only time I see a non-Mexican is when I look in the mirror!
6 comments:
wow, you really were an english major, weren't you? i felt like i was reading a short story for one of my oh-so-long-ago english classes. and naturally, like most of those stories, i feel like there is something the author sees in her everyday life that i often fail to observe in my own. and, as is often the case, i find myself wondering in the end, "wait, what were they laughing about? what was the secret conversation? how can there be something so obvious to the people in the story that i am so oblivious to?"
i think you should pen more "creative writing" blogs. i enjoyed it.
and i liked your final observation in the post script. that was definitely not the case for me in antigua. i mean, i lived with another language student, and he was from south korea - not guatemala.
so how's it feel to be the minority?
I see you're still enjoying yourself in Mexico. Would it be an easier life without electricity, phones, ect? I've always wondered if the Amish have no worries and if they don't I wonder if I can convert...hmmmm.
That's funny your parents said you blog about food too much. I love hearing about the food--so much different than our meat and potatoes here.
First and last lines strike me for their sense of absence... but not loss. The feeling of this piece is as though there is something in the Yucatan that you lack back here in Indiana. The absence of it all - but no sense of loss. There is a sense of nostalgia, substitution, and similarity. It is a comparison/contrast of the cultures without attempting to be. There is so much potential symbolism here that I don't know where to begin.
You need to write like this more often. It is your voice. I once read that an amateur writer becomes a professional when they find their voice, and cannot stop speaking.
Well done!
Thanks for taking time out to entertain us with your writing! I enjoy the glimpses into your days with our friends. And the photos add a lot! Loved the crooning lovebirds. :)
BTW, are they not "chicharrones"?
Wow, I'm impressed wtih that piece of creative writing. Will you help me with my secondaries? Your writing has a lot of voice...thats where mine is lacking I'd say. I'm sitting here reading this with Jess Lue and we are talking about how cool blogs are. I think I'm going to give it a try. I'll let you know when I launch it.
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