August 10, 2008

Not much happened this past week. I got a cold, which was actually welcomed because I was able to get out of some activities that I didn’t want to do. Training is getting on my nerves!!!

The big highlight of my week was last night. Around 4 something in the afternoon, Mama Inés knocked on my door and asked me if I want to go to a gallos (rooster) festival with them. A little confused about the rooster part, I agreed to go. So I piled into the car with Mama Inés, Monica, Marco, and the silent father who calls me señorita. We drove to someone’s house and when we arrived, women were tossing oranges from the second story at the people below. We then sat on a bench and ate the oranges while listening to extremely loud traditional music of Cayambe. (Note: I like lots of types of music, but this music was horrible!!!) Marco and Monica then explained to me that Cayambe has a tradition in which someone throws a party once a year and gives away roosters. If you receive a rooster, the next year you must host a party and give away twelve roosters (one for every month of the year). The roosters were placed in a triangular wooden box which was ceremoniously paraded around the yard to the beat of the music.

We were soon fed and enormous amount of food. After we finished stuffing our faces, someone cranked the music up and Marco invited/forced me to dance. The dance was very simple, consisting of shuffling one’s feet to the beat of the music while standing about 2 feet from ones partner. (Note: As the night continued, certain younger partners did not observe this 2 feet rule and a new element of the dance was introduced: me constantly backing up while my partner inched closer.) At first, I was probably bright red from embarrassment, especially because Marco and I were the only ones dancing. Eventually, however, as the night went on (and I had a bit to drink) I get less uncomfortable.

Now, about the drinking. Instead of offering guests glasses of wine or bear, certain people went around pouring box wine into a communal cup and offering it to all the guests. The cup was about the size of a communion cup or half a shot glass. Men received a full cup and women, half a cup (about ¼ of a shot.) By the end of the night, I think my alcohol consumption probably totaled about half a normal glass. Monica, however, was convinced that I was tipsy. She then went on to insist that she had nothing to drink, despite the fact that I spent half the night sitting beside her and watched her drink.

Note: Ecuadorian wine is not always made from grapes. There is also wine made from lemons, peaches, and strawberries. Lemon win = bitter and bad. Peach and strawberry wine= really sweet!