Friday, November 24, 2006
Thanksgiving gumbo for 20
My friends Campbell and Elizabeth had me and 17 or so of their friends from Empalme Escobedo, a very small town between San Miguel and Celaya, over for Thanksgiving dinner. Because there were 17 of them, and everyone spoke Spanish, I don´t remember their names, but they were a super friendly bunch - and all from the same family.
C and E live in a small second-floor apartment above the city center. Their street is being torn up and the bell to their house doesn´t work. In the past, I´ve just yelled up to them to let me in. But last night, they had their windows closed. I could hear the party going on inside, but they didn´t hear me when I yelled. So I did something that until yesterday, I thought only happened in The Sound of Music: I picked up a rock and threw it at the door. And I actually hit the door! But no luck.
Fortunately, there were lots more rocks in the street, due to the construction. Unfortunately, there were also lots of Mexicans walking up and down the street - it´s a real neighborhood. They seemed somewhat alarmed by the sight of me standing on top of a pile of rubble and sand in the middle of the street, yelling and tossing rocks at a window, but they let me be. (Smile and nod at the crazy lady.)
Eventually, I connected with a window, and that got their attention inside. Two guys opened the door and leaned out. One of them had his hand on his forehead.
"You hit him!" yelled the other in Spanish. They looked really mad.
Oh my god, was that window open?
"I´m sorry, I´m sorry! Are Campbell and Elizabeth there?" I yelled back in Spanish. They looked at me like I was nuts. What? I yelled it again, wondering what happened to Campbell and Elizabeth. "What? You want to come in to the party, well, ok..."
For a second I thought maybe I forgot where they lived and had invited myself into a party at a stranger´s house. A stranger who I just nailed with a rock. But Campbell came down and let me in and when I got upstairs, the two guys were laughing at me. Of course I didn´t hit him. The window was closed. And turns out, everyone in Empalme calls Campbell by his middle name, since they are mystified by his first name. (¨Like the soup,¨he used to tell people. "Ah," they´d nod, even more confused - why would you be named after soup?) So they understood my Spanish. They just had no idea who I was talking about.
Anyway, C. and E. made gumbo and chicken and green beans with bacon and smashed potatoes - all without an oven - and served it on the patio out back. I missed dinner, so when I got there, all the adults were crowded in the small living room-kitchen area, sitting at the table and on a bench that runs the length of the wall. The kids - ranging from 3 to 11 - were in the bedroom, terrorizing the cat, playing with the computer and running in and out every now and then to get some attention from the grown-ups. The mom of this group, who is in her 70s but looks about 50, has 13 children, 30 grandchildren and 8 great-grandkids, and most of them live right around her.
The oldest girl, who came right up, introduced herself and gave me a kiss on the cheek. She corrected me when I was asking the youngest boy, about 3, what his name was. "He´s a kid. You can´t use se. Use tu." She goes to a bilingual school and had a tape of Christmas carols in English. We translated Silent Night together. And let me tell you, it is no easy thing to explain "Round yon virgen." I have a feeling though that kids may be the best language teachers.
Elizabeth had copied the story of Thanksgiving in Spanish from the internet and one of the fathers read it aloud. An 8 year old boy had studied Thanksgiving in school, so he explained what he knew. Elizabeth also copied a prayer associated with the day, which was a HUGE hit. The parents called the kids in and each of the men lead a different paragraph of the prayer, while the woman quietly prayed along. We had pumpkin pie for desert and spent a little time taking pictures of the whole group crowded onto and in front of the bench. Then everyone left - I got a kiss from everybody and an invitation to come visit with Elizabeth. I´m looking forward to that.
C and E live in a small second-floor apartment above the city center. Their street is being torn up and the bell to their house doesn´t work. In the past, I´ve just yelled up to them to let me in. But last night, they had their windows closed. I could hear the party going on inside, but they didn´t hear me when I yelled. So I did something that until yesterday, I thought only happened in The Sound of Music: I picked up a rock and threw it at the door. And I actually hit the door! But no luck.
Fortunately, there were lots more rocks in the street, due to the construction. Unfortunately, there were also lots of Mexicans walking up and down the street - it´s a real neighborhood. They seemed somewhat alarmed by the sight of me standing on top of a pile of rubble and sand in the middle of the street, yelling and tossing rocks at a window, but they let me be. (Smile and nod at the crazy lady.)
Eventually, I connected with a window, and that got their attention inside. Two guys opened the door and leaned out. One of them had his hand on his forehead.
"You hit him!" yelled the other in Spanish. They looked really mad.
Oh my god, was that window open?
"I´m sorry, I´m sorry! Are Campbell and Elizabeth there?" I yelled back in Spanish. They looked at me like I was nuts. What? I yelled it again, wondering what happened to Campbell and Elizabeth. "What? You want to come in to the party, well, ok..."
For a second I thought maybe I forgot where they lived and had invited myself into a party at a stranger´s house. A stranger who I just nailed with a rock. But Campbell came down and let me in and when I got upstairs, the two guys were laughing at me. Of course I didn´t hit him. The window was closed. And turns out, everyone in Empalme calls Campbell by his middle name, since they are mystified by his first name. (¨Like the soup,¨he used to tell people. "Ah," they´d nod, even more confused - why would you be named after soup?) So they understood my Spanish. They just had no idea who I was talking about.
Anyway, C. and E. made gumbo and chicken and green beans with bacon and smashed potatoes - all without an oven - and served it on the patio out back. I missed dinner, so when I got there, all the adults were crowded in the small living room-kitchen area, sitting at the table and on a bench that runs the length of the wall. The kids - ranging from 3 to 11 - were in the bedroom, terrorizing the cat, playing with the computer and running in and out every now and then to get some attention from the grown-ups. The mom of this group, who is in her 70s but looks about 50, has 13 children, 30 grandchildren and 8 great-grandkids, and most of them live right around her.
The oldest girl, who came right up, introduced herself and gave me a kiss on the cheek. She corrected me when I was asking the youngest boy, about 3, what his name was. "He´s a kid. You can´t use se. Use tu." She goes to a bilingual school and had a tape of Christmas carols in English. We translated Silent Night together. And let me tell you, it is no easy thing to explain "Round yon virgen." I have a feeling though that kids may be the best language teachers.
Elizabeth had copied the story of Thanksgiving in Spanish from the internet and one of the fathers read it aloud. An 8 year old boy had studied Thanksgiving in school, so he explained what he knew. Elizabeth also copied a prayer associated with the day, which was a HUGE hit. The parents called the kids in and each of the men lead a different paragraph of the prayer, while the woman quietly prayed along. We had pumpkin pie for desert and spent a little time taking pictures of the whole group crowded onto and in front of the bench. Then everyone left - I got a kiss from everybody and an invitation to come visit with Elizabeth. I´m looking forward to that.
# posted by Anne @ 11:37 AM 
