Salvadoran Christmas
It didn’t start off well. I woke up to a small stick of dynamite exploding outside my door. I burst out of my room, all excited to be able to say “Feliz Navidad” instead of the usual boring “buenas diaz”. I was disappointed to not be met with the same gusto. Everyone barely seemed aware it was Christmas, even after talking it up for weeks. Breakfast was beans and tortillas. So was lunch. No rice or eggs (yes they do excite me when served). After a couple of calls back to the states, I was about to chalk this one up to another terrible Christmas in a foreign county. However, this one had nothing on my Christmas two years ago in some god-forsaken village in northern Burkina Faso. Then I was in a hot, dirty desert town, sick, alone, no French, no one knew it was Christmas because they’re Muslim, and I spent the night in a sleeping bag at a bus station. There really is no going down from that low.
This Christmas surprised me though. My host brothers suggested we play chess, which is always a good time, watching them squirm in their seats with anxiety as they lose pieces is hilarious. I also figured out a way to install a pull-up bar, so now I do my favorite exercise from back home. Eventually people started gathering at our house, a border-line festive atmosphere developed. Dinner was a specially roasted chicken, which was actually very tasty. It was also used to make chicken and vegetable sandwiches which were passed around and enjoyed by all. I should note that this day was punctuated by ear-splitting fireworks that people set off all the time everywhere, with no effects except for being LOUD. All I want for Christmas is to keep my eardrum intact.
Most of the men find Christmas as an excuse to get rip-roaring drunk on very cheap liquor and beer. This motivates them to engage me in nonsensical and never ending conversation. Usually I have to escape to my room, but it being Christmas I decided to stick it out and celebrate with everyone. Hours of repetitive, stupid conversations ensued, the entertainment of the evening was watching the Gringo talk to the drunks about the 3.5 words of English they know. Actually this resulted in some shared deep belly laugh about what comes out of these guys mouths, so felt like I was bonding with people and had a pretty good time.
That was all on the 24th, which is when Christmas is celebrated here, so today was more uneventful. I did attend my first Salvadoran Wedding, which was kind of fun. The groom was a friend of mine who is only 19, and its still bizarre when people younger than me get married. The church had a no walls, a dirt floor and blown out speakers, but the ceremony took place like any other, just with a couple hours of hymn singing beforehand.