Hello, my name is...
On Dinner:
Well, I cooked! It wasn't the very best meal I've ever made in my whole life, but it was pretty good. Everyone who ate it enjoyed it, which is really what you're aiming for. There's just nothing like the promise of food to put all of the people I like best in one place. Maybe it's making the table the center of the home, rather than the TV, that creates a happy family.
Patricia was busy doing her sister's hair (it being an important holiday: el Día de la Mujer), so it fell to Felipe to help me shop. I get the distinct impression that Felipe thinks I'm simple in the head. I almost never understand him when he talks as he speaks wicked fast and never seems to breathe. I asked him once to slow the crap down, but he says he's incapable of speaking any slower. As a result, we don't spend much time conversing, so I was a little leery of spending the morning shopping with him. But it was all good, and despite the massive confusion over what a green pepper is ("Eso?" "No, hombre! Eso!"), all the necessary ingredients were purchased.
Kimberly, the other UMVIM in Nicaragua came over to eat with us. It's always really nice to see her and spend some quality time chatting in English with someone who understands what it's like to be a lone chela adrift in the Nica sea.
On Names:
I am kind of a freak here, nomenclaturally speaking. I only have one last name. Everyone else has two, the last name of their father followed by the last name of their mother. Having only one last name means that the child's father won't acknowledge them. I don't really know how to explain why I don't also have two last names, as I have a complete set of parents. In the States, your mother's maiden name is like a secret password.
Furthermore, when a woman here gets married, she doesn't lose her name, she adds her husband's. So Ana Maria Lopez Fernandez would become Ana Maria Lopez de Guerrero. Comprende? Good. I say all that to make the following observation: for all the culture of machismo, there is an inherent value placed on women. Your mother's family is important. You don't lose that connection with your own clan just because you've married into another.
This may only be interesting to me, but so be it.
On Cutie Patootie:
Some days, Melissa comes over to be watched by her aunt and grandmother while her mother is at work. She just turned one in February and is cute as a naughty button! She walks like a drunk old man but with far more enthusiasm. And whenever she has a particularly long distance to go (such as the entire length of the living room) she sticks her tongue out to wiggle, for balance I guess. It reminds me oddly of my grandma, who stuck her tongue out in exactly the same way whenever she was concentrating.
Well, I cooked! It wasn't the very best meal I've ever made in my whole life, but it was pretty good. Everyone who ate it enjoyed it, which is really what you're aiming for. There's just nothing like the promise of food to put all of the people I like best in one place. Maybe it's making the table the center of the home, rather than the TV, that creates a happy family.
Patricia was busy doing her sister's hair (it being an important holiday: el Día de la Mujer), so it fell to Felipe to help me shop. I get the distinct impression that Felipe thinks I'm simple in the head. I almost never understand him when he talks as he speaks wicked fast and never seems to breathe. I asked him once to slow the crap down, but he says he's incapable of speaking any slower. As a result, we don't spend much time conversing, so I was a little leery of spending the morning shopping with him. But it was all good, and despite the massive confusion over what a green pepper is ("Eso?" "No, hombre! Eso!"), all the necessary ingredients were purchased.
Kimberly, the other UMVIM in Nicaragua came over to eat with us. It's always really nice to see her and spend some quality time chatting in English with someone who understands what it's like to be a lone chela adrift in the Nica sea.
On Names:
I am kind of a freak here, nomenclaturally speaking. I only have one last name. Everyone else has two, the last name of their father followed by the last name of their mother. Having only one last name means that the child's father won't acknowledge them. I don't really know how to explain why I don't also have two last names, as I have a complete set of parents. In the States, your mother's maiden name is like a secret password.
Furthermore, when a woman here gets married, she doesn't lose her name, she adds her husband's. So Ana Maria Lopez Fernandez would become Ana Maria Lopez de Guerrero. Comprende? Good. I say all that to make the following observation: for all the culture of machismo, there is an inherent value placed on women. Your mother's family is important. You don't lose that connection with your own clan just because you've married into another.
This may only be interesting to me, but so be it.
On Cutie Patootie:
Some days, Melissa comes over to be watched by her aunt and grandmother while her mother is at work. She just turned one in February and is cute as a naughty button! She walks like a drunk old man but with far more enthusiasm. And whenever she has a particularly long distance to go (such as the entire length of the living room) she sticks her tongue out to wiggle, for balance I guess. It reminds me oddly of my grandma, who stuck her tongue out in exactly the same way whenever she was concentrating.
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1 comments:
How kind of him not to slow down for you :( Nice excuse, too.
You could always go by both your last names. I think it's interesting, too, and I have always felt more connected to my mother's family than my dad's. I could be Clara Jobin-Kelley...
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