Happy birthday x3 (long but worth it!)

I am averaging a Cordobes (pronounced cor-doh-bess) birthday party a week, and each one of them has been very special.

It started off with an asado for the landlady of Maria Elena. She turned 91! An age, if I recall correctly, reached by my great grandfather, and this particular party was reminiscent of one of his later birthday fiestas held in Kingsville when I was a kid. I remember how many family members, perfect strangers, and random activities were involved. This one came close.

For one, I felt like one of the perfect strangers. In fact, I was equally reminded of one birthday party at my friend's neighbor's house. Ariel H. and I had been playing in her backyard when we noticed a sweet bounce house being assembled next door. Disregard the fact that we were in high school, our eyes were getting pretty big, and I still thank God that the neighbor saw our bounce house lust and invited us over. I remember how freely that family offered us food and drink, and talked to me as if we had known each other since grade school.

For la dueña, Maria Elena spent all morning preparing the side dishes while her husband Carlos prepared the meat. The "boys," the landlady's grandson and friends, huddled around fernet and beer, and the children ran all through the patio/backyard/dining area. If the meat wasn't enough, don't forget the two-tiered cake ME had prepared along with three flavors of ice cream from a local artesan.

The memory I'll take with me is probably the moment of the gift giving. Luciano, the grandson, brought forth the present they had me wrap just minutes before--a digital picture frame. First of all, there was the generational gap in terms of understanding the capacity of this technology. She clearly didn't get it, and the rest of her family took a long time explaining it to her. When they finally turned it on, the family had pre-uploaded pictures of the woman and her family from long ago.

You should have heard her shriek. And then almost pull the frame too fast, out of socket, causing it to break. All was well though, and she became more astonished as the pictures changed. She kept thinking that whatever was showing was the last one, and didn't wait for any of the others until reassured there were more. Adorable.

Then came an invite from Fer (or Fernando) for his 18th:

He was actually dressed like this for the third birthday, but I'll get to that later. You can just say he was wearing a New York Yankees shirt (without the knowledge of what the NY symbol is about), and it was against my religion to take a picture of that. Just kidding.

The party was planned in typical Argentinian fashion. Told to arrive at the church at 7pm, our guide to the bus didn't come until 7:45pm. During that time, Chichilo was sent to two different homes to remind people to come over. Oh, and he was sent at 7:30, which means we did not actually head out until 8:15 or so. Then on our way to the bus, we picked up another person who just happened to cross paths with us.

As for the bus, 45min long. I had not realized how far Fer has to travel to get to youth group, and thought more about this during the "5 or 6 blocks" (make that 9 or 10) in the utter darkness of his neighborhood. A neighborhood that brought back wonderful memories of the quadrangular dirt paths of Chaco.

When we arrived, the home was made of exposed cement blocks. His family welcomed us in, always making it a point that whoever enters is practically family. I met the rest of his siblings, and extended family, while Jorge immediately grabbed the guitar and played duets with Elias, the older brother. The music reverberated against the walls; it was hard to hear, but I was still able to carry good conversations with various folk throughout the dining room/living room that extended to a tight kitchen and small bathroom.

The youth group that had come gathered around for a time of praise and worship and afterward, Raul and Andrea had the idea to give gifts of encouragement. We went around the circle, and I felt the chills of the Holy Spirit as people expressed how much of an example Fer is to their lives. Then, in classic Argentinian, the man of the hour cried as he extended gratitude to all who had come. Seriously, men have no shame here, and for the most part, I love it!

This was definitely the highlight of the night. Soon after, we dispersed again while I hitched a ride from the Mullers. The following morning I was going to the zoo with the boys (por fin!), while the unbeknownst plan among the rest was to stay until 5am since busses were no longer running. Emm.. false.

Finally, the cumple de quince. No, they do not call it a quinceniera here. In fact, if you use that term, they will only look at you funny. 

A girl from the youth group at Raul and Andrea's church had, you know, about 200 people coming to her grandparents house in the country to celebrate her 15th birthday. I was invited not by her, but by her cousins, and I was definitely coming. I was also definitely buying a dress for the occasion, and was glad I did, because well, look at how well dressed the boys were:

Gonzalo, Johnny, Fer, Chichilo, and Juliano

But here's the kicker. The party started at 4 or 4:30pm. As I had youth group during that time, we (Maria Sol and Nieves) didn't arrive until 8pm. We missed out on the 4+ hours of entertainment including foosball, ping pong, a mechanical bull and a bounce house (NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!), so everyone was still in their gym clothes hanging around when we got there. When I asked where miss Abigail was though, a nonchalant, "Oh, she hasn't arrived yet," was the response.

Around 9 or 9:30pm everyone scrunched into the farm house, thing, to change into prom like attire. Women sharing hair straighteners, two bathrooms, three rooms, makeup and deodorant bustled through the building, while the guys had an outhouse like attachment to the building in which they changed, one at a time. People gawking "Ooooh!!!!" and "Que hermosa!!" for everyone's transformation.

Around 11 or 11:30pm we started gathering around the tables in preparation to eat. But before we could eat, we had to wait for the guest of honor. In the meantime, a couple bands practiced, music played over the loud speaker, and about 4 or 5 times, there was a power outage. My guess, due to overexertion.

Finally, I don't remember when, because my mind was occupied by the stomach, Abi arrived with her welcome tune of "My heart will go on" by Celine Dion playing not once, but twice. After all, she had to give personal salutations, and take photos, with every guest attending. (I showed grace by just going and snapping a picture of her in her princess costume, unaware.)

Que hermosa!

Finally, the food! Granted, I couldn't eat most of it, but that didn't stop me from smelling it! (Yes, that is an entire cow cut in half and cooking for several hours under the flame.)

Then a bunch of people sang/spoke/sang some more. Seriously, it's as if it turned into a talent show. The announcer/emcee type would say, "Hey uncle, you can sing, why don't you come up here and hum us a few bars?" (my translation) And without hesitation, we were entertained for at least a quarter of an hour. In fact, at one point, another said, "Hey everyone did you know we have someone from Texas here?"

I was playing Uno at this point with most of the youth group, so I'll admit that all I had heard was "Texas" and so I looked up and gave a thumbs up (Oh Texas pride, how it can get you every time...). Turns out, he was wanting me to come up and give a few words as to what I was doing in Argentina. Following suit, I came to the front and mumbled the basics. "Hello.. yep.. I'm a missionary.. my name? Oh, it's Sha-ray-uh.. (pause for everyone to test it out).. I work with teenagers.. so happy to be here.. thanks for the invite.. etc. etc." Awkward and normal can be placed within the same moment.

What else? Various fun moments including getting to use "Chavon" with Chichilo and everyone cracking up at me. A possibly drunk young man whining, or so it sounded like, through several Maroon 5 songs to show how well he knows English (ha). A 9 year old singing "Montaña" and everyone getting into it. Great conversations with various people about how cool it is to celebrate the work of God in community like on this night. Watching the numbers slowly dwindle as people escaped to the tents in the back, or squeezing around 8 people on a bed. The tradition of pulling a string from a bowl filled with rocks (the birthday girl gets to hold it), and seeing if there's a ring at the other end of the string. That signifies that you're getting married within the next year. Then there was waiting at the bus stop at 5:30am.. again at 7am.. finally coming home for a shower and much needed rest.

All this makes up, for me at least, not being able to be there to watch my nephew celebrate his first year of life and stuff his face with cake. I still wish I could have been there, as well as at my mom's and a couple of my cousin's birthdays as of late. God has blessed me with family here, and some new adventures to share! Oh how I love culture! Chau.