December is sort of a big deal here in Nicaragua, but more specifically Balgue. Seriously these people love their feistas. At any and all hours of the night you can hear the thumping of a beat of pop songs sung in Spanish. While I am the last person who really enjoys the whole “bump and grind with stranger” scene, or as Martijn puts it “dance with 17 year olds”, I have yet to see a Balgue fiesta for myself.
On Friday, Pablo informed us of the Miss December party and invited us to join him and his family for the festivities. Having not seen a fiesta yet and Sara’s departure this upcoming, we both opted to finally experience such an important party...The complicating factor as always is the pigs.
The weather here has been quite overcast for the past few days, which I certainly don’t mind as it keeps me less sweaty and more happy. However it does mean we have the occasional rain shower during the afternoon or evening. This meant that all of the firewood Pablo cut Friday afternoon were soaked. So when Sara and I had to light a fire and cook the pig food, we ran into a slight problem. An incredibly smokey fire.
It took us about 30 minutes longer than typical to finally get the fire going. After some severe smoke inhalation I was overjoyed to see some flames finally glower. By that time however we were running low on time. Having told Pablo we would stop by his house around 7 pm, our plans to head to Cafe Compestre for food was a problem. We either had to not eat the food there or be late, in true Nicaraguan style. We opted to be like the Nicaraguans and be fashionably late.
We arrived to find Cafe Compestre packed though! This meant that we would be more fashionably late than originally anticipated. We waited a very long time for our food to finally arrive while those customers who were first were served. This meant though that we didn’t miss the parade for Miss Balgue of December. With one drummer, one giant paper mache head with mustache, and a very tall lady dancing to the beat, the patrons of Compestre headed out to the streets. We watched the “tall lady” dance for 5 minutes while the heavy drum beat set the pace. It was an incredibly hilarious site, seeing the woman facing the wrong direction than her legs.
Finally after our bellies were full and our bill paid, we finally headed to Pablo’s. Two hours late. We walked in on the family watching Lord of the Rings Return of the King in Spanish. They showed us some photos of when Oneyda and Andy when they were young. Something about it was just so touching seeing these treasured photos of their kids. While Yolanda was showing me the photos, Pablo went seeking out a letter a former volunteer wrote him. He asked us to translate her note.
Sara and I translated this beautiful letter whereby this young lady told Pablo in English about how she was sorry she couldn’t write this letter in Spanish. She reminded him of a time when he essentially saved her when a tree had fallen on her tent during the night. All she remembered was that Pablo said “tranquilla” and helped her out. She wrote that she knew how much he cared about her. She also said just how grateful she was to both Pablo and Yolanda for their kindness. The entire note was really moving, and I could tell that Pablo was just as touched as she must have been.
We ended the night however on a more uplifting note. At least for some. After our time at Pablo’s reading sad notes and playing with Andy, we went to the Presentation of Miss Balgue. Or really it is the competition to determine who is Miss Balgue December. It also meant that I had to dance. Now I will admit I am not a horrendous dancer, I have at least enough rhythm to not look like a fool. However my problem is dancing with Nicaraguan men all around me. Watching. In particular, the style of dance is really more of “hip waving” and salsa. Neither of which I can accurately describe or easily mimic. So mostly I felt like a fool. And a fool that everyone was watching.
Or perhaps it was because I was dancing with Pablo’s brother Yunisio (definitely NOT the correct spelling). He also works at Totoco, and something about dancing suggestively with someone you have to continue working with yet have no feelings for to me seems wrong. Then Yolanda grabbed me and said it was time for the presentation. Which essentially meant watching 14 and 15 year old girls dancing around. I hope this was just the “dancing” part of the selection and that there was more to the entire process than the dancing and their small outfits. In typical Nicaraguan fashion I felt like there was more than what met the eye.
For all the flashy outfits and the young girls dancing, somehow there seemed to me more than just the flash and show. Perhaps it was when I heard Pablo say that he hoped the last girl would win because she was intelligent. Now those cynics reading this probably also think “her short shorts also helped”, but you don’t know Pablo. Or rather his strange sincerity sometimes. This was one of those moments. So it doesn’t matter apparently if you gyrate and dance really well, sometimes it is the merit of your mind and not the length of your shorts that determine character. Finally, something I can agree with.
Perhaps what made me uncomfortable about this entire thing was understand how different these girls will look in 20 years. No longer will they have their flat stomachs and long limbs. Instead they will have 3-10 kids and enjoyed perhaps too much Tang. While these girls are young, I forget that their lives here are fast tracked. They are often married at 18 or 19, or at least about to have their first child. So while they are young, hot things, perhaps it is fair for them to want some attention and feel like they are the Queen’s of Balgue. Before the realities of life in Balgue with multiple kids catches up.
We got back at 1:20pm and I still had to feed Dukie. Tomorrow is going to hurt.
*I will note that tomorrow was a rough morning, waking up at 10:30am. The pigs were a little miffed at the lateness of their food. But apparently the little piglet decided to vent his frustration by humping the big pig. It was as funny as it sounds.*
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