Monday, January 11, 2010

Just a spoon full of... crocodile fat? Christmas in Ortega de Santa Cruz, Guanacaste


It all began with a tree lighting on December 20th… a tree lighting and so much more! The event is a 7 or 8 year tradition of the Grupo de Mujeres Activas. They go door to door asking for support and organize raffles and bake sales with the goal of raising enough money to completely saturate an ordinary tree (well, a Guanacaste tree) with lights- colored, white, big, small, blinking, single strands, icicles. Let me tell you, this tree had personality! To top it off, it had a huge star outlined in lights perched on top and a nativity scene nestled in the center. Every year they dedicate the tree to a community member who flips the switch- kind of like Rockefeller Center, but without the countdown.

I helped the Mujeres Activas cut 500 pieces of a bread made with milk and bag 300 or so portions of Checheme, which is a warm drink made with corn and tapa dulce. In addition, in the spirit of Christmas and trying new things, I agreed to dance baile típico (typical dance) with a few other women in the parade that was to precede the tree lighting. Go big or go home, right? We’re talking putting on a big, heavy, full length, RED, YELLOW, and GREEN skirt- the kind you get to dance with! The ensemble also came with a white blouse with stitching to match the skirt. With no previous instruction, I skipped with my skirt all through Ortega and had a BLAST! The school girls danced típico as well; the school choir sang and played the marimba; and the mujeres had also arranged for a marching band from a nearby town to come and keep the beat. I gave this tradition an A+.

Next came Christmas Eve, which felt more like New Year’s Eve to me. If I had not gone to mass, I would not have known it was December 24th. Well the afternoon actually felt like any other day. (This was the first Christmas I had spent in shorts and sandals sweating = weird.) Anyway, when I asked my host mother if she wanted to go to mass with me she told me that it was probably not a good idea considering she had already drank three Smirnoff’s. Yes, this was the atmosphere in Ortega on Christmas Eve. Apparently my host mother was not the only one who had had her three Smirnoff’s, because the one Catholic Church in my town of over 1,000 people (which I had imagined would be busting at the seams) in a Catholic country was maybe 60% full. While the priest continued to talk about the holiness of the day, I kept thinking about the three Smirnoff’s… Christmas in Ortega. Following mass, seven months into my service in Ortega, I finally conquered my fear of the disco and danced like no one was watching for a good three hours. (Hey- it was Christmas Eve, right?) I was one of the first ones to enter- those of you who are fortunate enough to have dances in your town or near your town have I´m sure scratched your heads at the fact that there are often more spectators than there are people dancing at these events; and, the most confusing part is that the spectators are often more dolled up than the dancers themselves! I decided that the audience was only going to grow- as was my anticipation and anxiety- so I paid my 1,500 colones and hit the dance floor hard with my friend, Danilo. (After seven months of reluctantly sharing my living space with Danilo, who is a friend of my host brother, who came over every day from 8am-3pm to blast reggaeton and watch soccer games, we have developed an unlikely friendship.)

I left the dance a little after 11pm to shower and change to attend a rezo at midnight, which is tradition in Ortega on Christmas Eve, with a sizable group on a woman´s front porch in front of a beautifully lit nativity scene. We then ate arroz con pollo and drank more chicheme. The week prior to Christmas the nativity scene had been passed from house to house before reaching its final destination on Christmas Eve. I gave this tradition an A + as well- 20 or 30 kids walked through town with liras (like a hand-held xylophone, if you haven´t seen them in your towns) and Santa hats carrying the nativity scene to a pre-determined house asking for a place to stay for the night just like Mary and Joseph did just before Jesus was born.

Last but not least came New Year´s Eve. So where I think it´s safe to generalize that in the United States the majority spend Christmas among family and go out for New Year’s to drink and dance with friends, in Ortega at least, I got the impression that things were al reves. I spent New Year’s with my good friend Cindy, who is the English teacher in our school, and her family in Santa Cruz. Her mother has a beautiful ranch-style home just outside the center of Santa Cruz, where we welcomed in the New Year with Aunts, Uncles, Nieces, Nephews, Cousins, Children, Spouses, and Friends. The main course- lomito relleno, which is stuffed pork loin… and we’re talking STUFFED- with hardboiled egg, bacon, ham, onions, peppers, and potatoes. The secret ingredient... it was cooked in COCA COLA! Then, at midnight, after having set off a sparkler and a firework (yes, one, which is exactly what we did for the fourth of July- set off one single firework, which, of course, is extremely anticlimactic), it is tradition to pack a bag and start running! Why? To guarantee a travel-filled year! And the next day I went to San Jose… Looks like Ticos might actually know what´s up with this one. I´m not yet convinced about rolling the fat of an armadilo, a crocodile, or a pig in newspaper and rubbing it on my chest to combat my asthma...

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