El Rey de los Pavos

I had 38 folks to my place for a Thanksgiving dinner on Saturday. ¿Loca? Yeah, probably, but it was good fun and we danced the traditional salsas of Thanksgiving until two in the morning and drank the traditional tequilas. It was worth searching high and low for that damn turkey (they don't usually have them available before December) just to watch the disbelief followed by bliss on the faces of the Mexicans as they ate the turkey and dressing. Hah! Americans can't cook, my ass! We're chubby with good cause, thankyouverymuch!


Me, sitting down for the first time since 6 a.m. We ate out on my terrace the weather was really nice . . . not that I'm bragging.

But, damn, look at that turkey!! Now I'm bragging.

The Cross-Dressers' Prom

Ah, the surreal joys of the Isthmus: I went to another massive vela the last weekend but with a twist; this one was for the local cross dressers. Have I mentioned that cross-dressing is seen as no big deal around here? No? Well . . . imagine my surprise. Particularly in the nearby town of Juchitan it is quite common to see somebody swanning by in the traditional women's clothing and sporting a prominent adam's apple and very large hands. I had a very animated discussion just a little while ago with one of the muixas ("gays" in Zapateco) about the difficulty of finding an underskirt long enough for tall people like us. Anyway, the vela was great. It was kinda a cross between prom and sweet sixteen parties with all the local cross-dressers dressed to the nines. Two great bands and massive quanity of beer. My group (with nary a cross-dresser, more the pity) danced 'til three. Good times.

Juchiteco cross-dressers don't mess around . . .

The queen of the vela. I so am going to buy one of those crowns.

Everybody Loves a Güera

November has been ridiculously social. Thus far:

Regular throw-down parties: 2

Velas: 4

Beach trips: 2

Dinner with friends: 3

Parties crashed: 1

The last is from Saturday when I was at dinner at a friends and suggested we head to Salina Cruz to dance. The other guests weren't buying it but the hostess pointed out that we could hear music playing in the barrio that obviously came from a nearby party. We followed our ears to a local vela. The others got bashful the last minute but I figured "Screw it, we're here, aren't we?" and walked to the middle of the place and commenced dancing. The others followed and the other people seemed thrilled that we were there. Two minutes everyone has at least one beer and I had three in hand with offers of more. I told everyone that we were "friends of Maria" but I may as well not have bothered. Everyone loves a güerita (blondie) 'round here. Note me dancing with random local (I'm the one on the right) in the invaded territory. A friend here said I was looking real Klassy (he may have not used the "k" but it was implied.) The sepia picture is a cute kid from said crashed fiesta and the other is me, a friend and another friend's kid at the beach. Good times. And, yeah, I know the month's only half over . . . we've still got my Fiesta de la Acción de Gracias to go. Whee!

Bury Me in Mexico

Here's the cemetary in Salina Cruz, all decked out with flowers and candles. My neighbors sat around the tomb eating fried fish and drinking tequila with the grandmother having a running conversation with the dearly departed. There were mariachis wadering around singing and little kids running everywhere. Please bury me in Mexico. I think I'm a bit too social for a WASP graveyard . . .

This was the death alter my friend set up for her party on Tuesday. You put out candy, a special bread, flowers, tequila, and--if your alter is for a specific dead person--that person's favorite food. We ended up stealing the tequila from death.

Yeah. So did I have anyone coming over to see my version of the death alter?

No.

Did I let that stop me from making one despite the fact that I'm not Mexican and not Catholic?

Hell, no.

But Death may have been disappointed with my offereings of cheap wine and potato chips.

This is me (looking quite like my mother circa 1969, I might add) and Maria José at my neighbors' restaurant in front of their alter.

Death and Candy

Cempasúchils (marigolds) and coxcombs for the graves and alters in the central plaza.

They set up a ton of these fruit/flower/death candy (sugar skulls, coffins, chocolate coins for the dead, etc.) all over the main plaza. Gives "death merchants" a whole new slant, no?