Confetti on my pillow when I got up this morning—mementoes of last night’s New Year’s Eve celebration at Margarita and Isabel’s parents’ home.
At midnight, we ate 12 grapes to ensure good fortune in each of the coming months. I was only able to get down seven of them before the clock stopped chiming, so I can expect rocky times in 2008—kind of like 2007 and all the years before that. Así es la vida.
After that came cohetes, firecrackers, but these—safe enough for 10-year-old Miriam to light—ignited like sparklers when we lit them and threw them into the street, and they didn't make any noise. But we could see the plumes of other celebrators' fireworks shooting into the sky overhead and hear their great booms.
And then Doña Guille, Isabel and Margarita’s mother, brought out a basket of eggs and passed them around. I watched as others threw them up to hit the ceiling. I didn’t quite understand, so Doña Guille cracked an egg over my head to show me that it contained confetti. Ahhhh! So then I cracked mine over her head.
Isabel explained how the eggs are emptied, washed, and dried, and then the shells are filled with confetti from the same hole used to remove the liquid part of the eggs. A bit of paper is glued over the hole to keep the confetti in, and the eggs are sometimes decorated to become lovely little confetti dispensers. (You can find step-by-step instructions here.) Isabel said that they're sometimes filled with flour and used in egg fights (similar, I suppose, to the snowball fights my brothers and I would have against the Cowger kids when we were growing up in the little town of Park River, North Dakota).
The evening had begun with conversation over antojitos (appetizers) and ponche (a sweet spiced tea made from dried fruits) and rompope (a rum-infused drink similar to eggnog). Later, we sat down to a dinner with all manner of delicious dishes beginning with pasta in green sauce and ending with fruit salad and a mocha cake, savoring pork and little garlicky red potatoes in between.
Around 11pm, Miriam won her appeal for piñatas, so we all took turns trying to break two of them and then scramble for the candy that rained down.
At the end of the evening, Isabel drove the two guests—her Tia Rosa and me—home. After dropping off Tia Rosa, she took me home the long way so that we (Margarita and Miriam went with us) could see the holiday lights in the center of the city. She stopped near the cathedral so that I could take photos of the nativity scene and the huge Christmas tree nearby.
At midnight, we ate 12 grapes to ensure good fortune in each of the coming months. I was only able to get down seven of them before the clock stopped chiming, so I can expect rocky times in 2008—kind of like 2007 and all the years before that. Así es la vida.After that came cohetes, firecrackers, but these—safe enough for 10-year-old Miriam to light—ignited like sparklers when we lit them and threw them into the street, and they didn't make any noise. But we could see the plumes of other celebrators' fireworks shooting into the sky overhead and hear their great booms.
And then Doña Guille, Isabel and Margarita’s mother, brought out a basket of eggs and passed them around. I watched as others threw them up to hit the ceiling. I didn’t quite understand, so Doña Guille cracked an egg over my head to show me that it contained confetti. Ahhhh! So then I cracked mine over her head.
Isabel explained how the eggs are emptied, washed, and dried, and then the shells are filled with confetti from the same hole used to remove the liquid part of the eggs. A bit of paper is glued over the hole to keep the confetti in, and the eggs are sometimes decorated to become lovely little confetti dispensers. (You can find step-by-step instructions here.) Isabel said that they're sometimes filled with flour and used in egg fights (similar, I suppose, to the snowball fights my brothers and I would have against the Cowger kids when we were growing up in the little town of Park River, North Dakota).
The evening had begun with conversation over antojitos (appetizers) and ponche (a sweet spiced tea made from dried fruits) and rompope (a rum-infused drink similar to eggnog). Later, we sat down to a dinner with all manner of delicious dishes beginning with pasta in green sauce and ending with fruit salad and a mocha cake, savoring pork and little garlicky red potatoes in between.
Around 11pm, Miriam won her appeal for piñatas, so we all took turns trying to break two of them and then scramble for the candy that rained down.At the end of the evening, Isabel drove the two guests—her Tia Rosa and me—home. After dropping off Tia Rosa, she took me home the long way so that we (Margarita and Miriam went with us) could see the holiday lights in the center of the city. She stopped near the cathedral so that I could take photos of the nativity scene and the huge Christmas tree nearby.
And as I walked up the steps to my apartment, I could hear loud dance music, shouts, and laughter coming from the apartment building just a stone’s throw from mine. It sounded like a lot of people were having a lot of fun. The music and the party hadn't stopped when I fell asleep--confetti still in my hair--at 2:00 on this first morning of new year.----
I’m listening to Mahalia Jackson sing gospel music this morning; makes me want to dance and shout. I’ve subscribed to Yahoo Music, so I can listen to any kind of music I want when the spirit moves me. Nice, except Yahoo doesn’t have a lot of Mexican music. Yesterday was Bob Dylan day; I listened to his songs all afternoon.
No comments:
Post a Comment