Fiestas

So I’ve been two four different Nicaraguan fiestas in the past 6 days…which means it’s time to explain the craziness that is a “fiesta” in rural Nicaragua. Here goes:

Fiesta 1: A Mi Casa

My roommates decided that me having lived here a month-ish was reason enough to have a party. So I experienced my first house party last Friday. House parties here are not like parties in the States…mainly because you’re not really in a “house”….more like a concrete/metal/whatever-material-you-can-find structure with some chairs and beds. But also because a party here always means a giant meal. I took a nap that afternoon and came into the house to find three of the local guys in our kitchen cooking a feast – rice, salad, chicken, plantains…and the always odd but always present loaf of white bread as a side dish. After three hours of prepping, the meal was ready and about 15 of us chowed down (keep in mind all of the food for this meal cost $20 total…and we had leftovers for a week).

There were of course adult beverages involved in this party…which led to dancing. Not at a bar or club…just in our living room. Another thing about Nicas…they dance EVERYWHERE. They’re trying to teach me how to “not dance like a gringa” – it’s a work in progress. They’re also trying to teach me how to wear makeup like a Nica – per the following photo, that’s a painful work in progress as well.

My roomates attacking me with makeup.

Our feast.

The "parking lot" outside the party. Only in Nicaragua will there not be a single car and only motos and bikes.

Fiesta 2: El Dia De Amor

Valentines Day in Nicaragua is more about a day of friendship. I’m convinced this is because no men here would ever take their significant other on a date or do anything even remotely romantic, so why not spend the day celebrating your friends, which generally doesn’t cost you any expensive dinners out. Either way, I’ll go with it.

In areas like Limon, there’s pretty much no where to go, nothing to do. So they bring the party to you on special days. This means that for Valentines Day, we all hopped in the back of a pick-up truck, drove three miles down the road, and encountered a massive outdoor “club” on the basketball court next to the government-sponsored daycare center. Ironic, I know.

You pay a “cover” (one dollar) to get in to the party and it’s basically an outdoor disco. They bus in speakers and a DJ, sell beers out of coolers, and dance their asses off. Highlight of my night: when all of a sudden the music switched from reggae to Shania Twain’s “I Feel Like a Woman” (I still can’t get over the music they listen to here).

Happy Day Disco...the provider of reggae, hip hop, and cheasy American music.

My roomates rocking out.

Fiesta 3: Feliz Cumpleanos

On Tuesday night, I randomly ended up at a seventeen year old’s birthday party (long story…started out as a date…then became a group dinner at a friend’s house…then my roommates grabbed a present on our way out…and shortly thereafter, I realized we were at a seventeen year old’s party with her entire family). So, here I was, the only gringa at a birthday party at some girls house.

Birthday parties here are a strange event. There were plastic chairs set up in a circle around the front porch. Everyone sits in a chair (girls on one side, boys on the other…very middle school). The mother brings out a plate of food and plops it in your lap. You eat the food because you don’t want to be rude, or in my case, you drop your mystery meat on the floor for your dog when no one’s looking. After you eat, the music starts and everyone continues to sit in their chairs waiting for the first person to dance. In the meantime, the little kids run around like maniacs, try to dance with the gringa (me) and play with the 50 dogs/cats/pigs that followed their owners to the party.

Once the kids go to bed (around 8, which is a late night for most) the rum comes out. A few drinks later, you have your own personal club on the front porch of someone’s house in the middle of nowhere. Good times.

Fiesta 4: Sorpresa

On Wednesday, I went to a surprise party for my favorite Nicaraguan of all Nicaraguans. Her name is Martita Romero and she is the head nurse at the government run clinic in Las Salinas. Martita has sort of taken me in as part of her family – I’ve been to her house numerous times, her husband has fixed my moto post-crash at least twice, and she is currently in the process of ensuring I eat every Nicaraguan specialty there is. She also gave me the nickname of Ci-Ci...mainly because she can't pronounce Stacey. At the party, Ci-Ci became "Super Ci-Ci" and now the entire community of Las Salinas is calling me that. I'm ok with it :)

Martita is one of those people that you feel lucky to know. She works her tail off – her life is her job – but she does it all because she cares so deeply about her community and the health of the people that live there. As a result, Martita is essentially a living legend in Las Salinas, so for her birthday, the town came together and threw her a surprise party.

The big surprise. You have to love Evelyn with her old school video camera connected to a gigantic extension cord for power.

Martita.