In the past, I've typically spent New Year's Eve partying like a rock star.
This year, I spent it eating a bowl of sugar covered grapes, with a lot of children, and an empty suitcase.
For those who may not be familiar with this tradition, allow me to explain.
In many parts of Mexico, there are certain traditions which are carried forward from generation to generation every Christmas, New Years and Day of the Kings, on January 6th. Since I was staying at home with the family, who all prefer to keep the tradition alive, we all got dressed up to stay inside! It didn't make sense until later in the evening when crowds of neighbors, family and friends would wonder in and out of the house as they party hopped around town from house to house.
After eating several servings of a scrumptiously prepared meal of Caldo de Camarรณn (shrimp soup) with tenderly cooked pork roast, vegetables, mole (chilli sauce with- yes, chocolate) and tortillas of course; I struggled to move my inflated belly away from the table. Instead of being grabbed by my date for a midnight kiss, this year I was embraced by several children and each member of the Garcia family for a hug and a toast only after we ate our twelve sugar covered grapes at the stroke of midnight. Each grape is supposed to signify luck for each month of the new year. However, I didn't get to finish all twelve grapes (nervously biting my nails), because I had no more room in my belly after having already overeaten. I also had to run outside of the house after the family, who grabbed suitcases to run around the block in honor of another tradition. While they ran outside, I - belly filled with shrimp,
pork, tortillas and more, waddled behind them like a duck; or more like a woman pregnant with sextuplets!
As we strolled around the dark streets illuminated with Christmas lights and elaborate Nativity scenes in front of each home, we passed countless people in their finest clothing doing the same.
I had to duck out of the way a few times as everyone seemed to be shooting fireworks and guns in the street. Running and ducking behind corners in my blue, satin, above the knee strapless dress, faux fur coat and wedge heels was both exciting and frightening at the same time. When I arrived back to the house I was stunned to see that there were at least forty people who had just suddenly dropped by. Before I went outside only the immediate family (just twelve of us) were there for dinner, but the front door was open so random friends and neighbors on late night walks suddenly kept dropping by. The house party continued until the next afternoon while I went on a hunt to find the six un-eaten grapes I didn't get to finish!
This year, I spent it eating a bowl of sugar covered grapes, with a lot of children, and an empty suitcase.
For those who may not be familiar with this tradition, allow me to explain.
In many parts of Mexico, there are certain traditions which are carried forward from generation to generation every Christmas, New Years and Day of the Kings, on January 6th. Since I was staying at home with the family, who all prefer to keep the tradition alive, we all got dressed up to stay inside! It didn't make sense until later in the evening when crowds of neighbors, family and friends would wonder in and out of the house as they party hopped around town from house to house.
After eating several servings of a scrumptiously prepared meal of Caldo de Camarรณn (shrimp soup) with tenderly cooked pork roast, vegetables, mole (chilli sauce with- yes, chocolate) and tortillas of course; I struggled to move my inflated belly away from the table. Instead of being grabbed by my date for a midnight kiss, this year I was embraced by several children and each member of the Garcia family for a hug and a toast only after we ate our twelve sugar covered grapes at the stroke of midnight. Each grape is supposed to signify luck for each month of the new year. However, I didn't get to finish all twelve grapes (nervously biting my nails), because I had no more room in my belly after having already overeaten. I also had to run outside of the house after the family, who grabbed suitcases to run around the block in honor of another tradition. While they ran outside, I - belly filled with shrimp,
pork, tortillas and more, waddled behind them like a duck; or more like a woman pregnant with sextuplets!
As we strolled around the dark streets illuminated with Christmas lights and elaborate Nativity scenes in front of each home, we passed countless people in their finest clothing doing the same.
I had to duck out of the way a few times as everyone seemed to be shooting fireworks and guns in the street. Running and ducking behind corners in my blue, satin, above the knee strapless dress, faux fur coat and wedge heels was both exciting and frightening at the same time. When I arrived back to the house I was stunned to see that there were at least forty people who had just suddenly dropped by. Before I went outside only the immediate family (just twelve of us) were there for dinner, but the front door was open so random friends and neighbors on late night walks suddenly kept dropping by. The house party continued until the next afternoon while I went on a hunt to find the six un-eaten grapes I didn't get to finish!
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1 comment:
Wow that does sound exciting and scary!! I love hearing about the traditions of other cultures, it's so interesting. Thanks for sharing it!x
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