Merry Christmas!

We had hoped to visit Indiana for Christmas this year, but Mario's factory only shut down for the 25th, so going anywhere was out of the question. Fortunately, Mario's family was able to come and visit us. And fortunately, Mario's brother just bought a new minivan, so both Mario's parents, his aunt, brother, sister, sister-in-law, and 2 nephews could make the 10-hour trip in "relative" comfort. Last March we saw the same amount of people squeeze into Nacho's Pontiac Grand Am . . . yikes!



Mario's family arrived at about 10pm on Christmas Eve and immediately commandeered the kitchen, warming up bacalao, a traditional Mexican Christmas fish dish, and a variety of other food they brought with them, even though Mario spent all evening making pork. Christmas dinner in Mexico is traditionally eaten after the late-night mass on Christmas Eve, so generally around midnight. Ugh. I'd so rather be in bed at midnight. But I can't fight tradition.


As my nieces and nephews get visits from the 3 Kings on January 6th, Santa Claus tends to skip our house. Therefore, only Clara was up at the crack of dawn (which of course had nothing to do with the fact that it was Christmas). Once all eleven of us made our way in and out of our only bathroom, the plan was to attend mass downtown and then come back home and feast on leftovers. However, eleven people don't more through one bathroom very quickly, especially after staying up well past midnight the previous night, so we wandered around downtown until the 6pm mass. The Plaza de Armas has been decked out for Christmas for the past month, and we meandered down to the children's playground in the Alameda so the boys could run off some steam.



Clara decided that she had all the Christmas she could handle, and dozed off on the way to the park.

All in all, it was a great day, and I've loved having Mario's family here!

She's On A Roll!

Yes, I realize she's about 5 months behind schedule, but Clara has finally decided that rolling over may just be a useful skill to master.

And master it, she has!

She also learned this week how to take off her sweater, provided it's a cardigan and the buttons aren't buttoned. I'm so glad she figured this out in the middle of December in a house without heat.

Ah, the Christmas market!

Hands down, my favorite thing to do in Mexico in December is visit the Christmas market. I can wander through the stalls selling nativity scene figurines, twinkle lights, Christmas ornaments, fireworks, Christmas trees, candles, and tamales for far, far too long. In fact, that's just what Clara and I did all Friday afternoon.

We went in search of a Maria and Jose for our nativity scene. Now, nativity scenes are a bit of a national obsession in Mexico. These market stalls sell the traditional Holy Family, shepherds, wise men, and then they add all variety of barnyard animals, fish, cactus, women making tortillas, etc. Most Mexican nativity scenes are very extensive (to put it mildly). My mother-in-law's takes up half of their garage. Hers is just average-sized.

I could see myself getting swept up in this quest for collecting the most outlandish figurines. Therefore, early on, I gave myself a limit. One new figurine every year. As this is the third Christmas for the Rodriguez-Douglas family, we are on to a grand total of three figurines--the Holy Family is complete! But imagine the menagerie I'll have when I'm eighty--it will take all month for me to set up the nativity scene!














We ended our trip with a visit to a tamale stand. Knowing that my in-laws are visiting this coming week, I am quite sure that we'll wind up with more tamales next week than we'll know what to do with. But it's been so long since I've had one, that I couldn't resist! Topped off with a mug of champurrado (a thick drink made from corn and flavored with cinnamon, rather like atole) it was a perfect December picnic!

Hubiera

I'm trying to talk with Clara more in Spanish because, despite living in Mexico, we've realized that she just doesn't hear enough Spanish. In one of my conversations with her, I stumbled across my new favorite word.

"Clara--si hubiera hecho esto . . . "

[thought to myself] "Ooo--'hubiera'--that's pretty cool!"

It's cool on two fronts:

1) it's pronounced Ooo-bee-air-ah. What an awesome string of vowels! How pretty is that?

2) I feel smarter using this word, as it's a verb in the past subjunctive form. Now, if you've ever learned a foreign language for any length of time (at least a European foreign language other than English), the subjunctive form of verbs gives students apoplectic fits--provided that student speaks English as their first language. Why? English doesn't have a subjunctive tense (unless we add the word "may" before another verb). So we get all bent out of shape and spend years trying how to figure out when the right time is to use this verb form.

And I've got it down!

But, at the same time, the word has its downside. After all, it means "would have", and is generally proceeded by "if".

"If I would have . . . "

I hate to say that too much, because I don't want to regret things I've done or failed to do (even little things, like not doing the laundry until it was too rainy, like yesterday). What's done is done. Or not done, as the case may be. Why be looking back and second guessing myself?

Fortunately, I don't say it all that often.

And it is a pretty word.

Bananas

The other day Clara was really into playing with her banana while I fed it to her on a spoon. As I was peeling it back, I thought, "hmm . . . what would she do with this?"

Wow.

As you can see, she went to town. I think she wound up eating the entire banana that night. She's pretty into feeding herself now. Unless her papa is around and she can get him to just stick food directly in her mouth, like a baby bird. Or if she wants a drink of water, she'll pick up her sippy cup and just hand it to me instead of bringing it to her own mouth.

But she's getting there. And it's usually pretty entertaining--for me, at least.
she's apparently convinced that she can't do it herself. )

Happy Guadalupe Day!

It's bigger than Cinco de Mayo, bigger than New Year's Day, and rivals Independence Day. Happy Guadalupe Day!

On December 12, 1531, after a week of sidetracking Juan Diego on his way to visit his sick uncle, Guadalupe asked Juan Diego to gather roses from Tepeyac hill, north of Mexico City, in order to present more validity for his (her) request that a church be built on that hill. Much to Juan Diego's surprise, when he opened his cloak to present the roses to the Archbishop, an image of the Virgin of Guadalupe had imprinted itself on Juan Diego's cloak. [Note: roses are a European flower and did not grow in Mexico at the time, particularly in December.]

My professor, a Mexican Methodist minister's wife, commented that it's hard to believe this story 100%, and yet it's also hard to deny the story. Given that Protestants in Mexico are generally loathe to give any credibility to Guadalupe, that she conceded that Guadalupe's appearance at Tepeyac may have possibly happened was a pretty strong testimony. After all, we weren't there. So who are we to say it didn't happen?

Generally, I don't really know what to think about visions like this. However, Guadalupe came at a crucial point of Mexican history. The Spanish had just conquered Mexico 10 years earlier. The Spanish were divided as to whether the Indians had souls worth saving. Thanks to Guadalupe's appearance, as she has dark hair and communicated with Juan Diego in Nauhatl, discussion on this issue reached a close. Indians do have souls worth saving. For this alone, she deserves more than a little recognition.

Beyond her obvious Catholic ties, she also has a number of ties to Aztec dieties. The hill she appeared on was sacred to the "Mother God" of the Aztecs. While, at the time, these Aztec ties may have helped bring more Indians to the Catholic faith, they also help to preserve versions of Mexican Catholicism as a strange mix of Roman Catholicism and native traditions.

There are a number of other quirks about Guadalupe's appearance at Tepeyac and her image imprinted on Juan Diego's tilma that are worth mentioning.

[The following facts are taken from www.corazones.org. Translation mine.]

• "'Guadalupe' means "crushing the head of the serpent" in Nauhatl, the language of the Aztecs. This is reminiscent of a prophesy from Genesis 3:15."
  

• "The image is detailed exactly as described in Revelations 12:1. 'A great and wondrous sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet and a crown of twelve stars on her head.'"

• "In Mary's eyes, they have discovered miniscule human images, so tiny that no artist could paint them. They are of two scenes, and both scenes are repeated in both eyes. The image of the Bishop Zumarraga in the eyes of Mary was enlarged through digital technology, revealing in his eyes an image of the indian Juan Diego, opening his tilma in front of the bishop. The size of this image? One fourth of a millionth of a millimeter."
  

• "They have not been able to discover any trace of paint on the fabric. In fact, at a distance of 10 centimeters from the image, one can only see the raw maguey fibers--the colors disappear. There is no trace of brushstrokes or other known painting technique."
  

• "The maguey fibers that constitute the fabric of the image normally does not last more than 20 or 30 years. A few centuries ago, a replica was made on similar tilma made of maguey fibers. This replica disintegrated after a few decades. Meanwhile, nearly 500 years after the miracle, the image of Mary remains as clear as on the first day."
  

• "The stars visible on Mary's cloak reflect the exact configuration and position of the stars in the sky that would have been visible in Mexico the night that the miracle happened."

Hmm . . . interesting. So go on and entertain your friends and family members around the dinner table with these new factoids.

46 Evenings

This month, I've found myself turning into a middle-aged Mexican woman. Why? We'll need to rewind a few weeks to answer that one.

Remember how I was all excited about being invited to join a Bible study with the ladies from my church. It's still fairly exciting (or a good opportunity to get to know other women). A week or two into the class, Panchita (the woman who invited me) busted out a list for the Great Rosario Host, for lack of a better name.

What is the Great Rosario Host? For 46 days before the Day of Our Lady of Guadalupe, women in neighborhoods all over Mexico get together to pray the rosary. Every night. For 46 nights. Yikes.

Why 46? Because the Virgin of Guadalupe has 46 stars on her robe. Of course.

Panchita asked me if I wouldn't want to host a night. While I still don't know quite what to make of the rosary, and the thought of praying it for nearly two months every night was a bit daunting, I added my name to the list with relish. After all, it gave me the potential to meet 46 more neighbors! Sweet!

I meant to attend quite a few of the rosaries, but what with Mario working second/third shift during November and Clara deciding that bedtime was sometime around 7, I wasn't often able to make it, as the rosary ladies met up at 7:30. Regardless, Panchita took me out last week a few times, and then I hosted it at my house on Monday night. I loved opening up my house for my neighbors and I truly did feel blessed as they prayed for any number of good things for our home and family.

But, as mentioned above, I'm conflicted about how I feel about praying the rosary. I do it because it is a great meditation tool. All those Hail Marys give the distracted part of my brain something to do while the rest of my brain can reflect on various stages of Jesus Christ's life and ministry. The times I've prayed it, it's been a positive and powerful experience. However, as one who grew up Protestant, it does pose a few sticking points for me.

1. I realize that we only pray to Mary to ask her to interceede for us. It's just like asking any friend to pray for us, and that's totally accepted in any Christian circle. I'm down with that. Were I simply sending Mary a shout out to keep a certain situation in mind as she hangs on the ear of God, that would be fine in my mind. However, it takes roughly a half hour to pray the rosary. Isn't it a better use of time to spend that time talking directly to God?
2. In Matthew 6:7, Jesus instructed his disciples, "when you are praying, do not use meaningless repetition as the Gentiles do, for they suppose that they will be heard for their many words." What do we do when we pray the rosary? Say the same thing over and over and over and over. Yes, it's a great tool for meditation, but if Jesus said not do, why do we do it?

If anyone has any good answers to my hang-ups, please comment.

When all is said and done, it has been nice to get to know a few more people in this neighborhood and I've enjoyed being included in a community again. After moving around as often as I have, it's that sense of community that I miss the most, and I thank mine for including the "new girl" in their prayers this year.