Quincenera

A couple of weeks ago, I had the great pleasure of making the acquaintance of my friend Sergio. I had been sitting alone at a restaurant not far from my house and Sergio asked me to join him and a few of his buds at their table. Initially I was taken aback and a bit skeptical of the invitation that was extended to me in perfect English and furthermore surprised to find out Sergio is a student at MIT. His father is from a largely Tequila producing town about an hour outside of Guadalajara and Sergio comes down here with the rest of his family every summer. One night, Sergio and I were out having dinner and a couple beers when he asked if I would be interested in attending the party for his two cousins’ Quincenera (fifteenth birthday celebration). Since I am trying to absorb as much Mexican culture as possible during my short stay I eagerly accepted the invite. A Quincenera marks the transition into womanhood for a young girl and in some ways is comparable to a Sweet 16, but I feel a Quincenera is more culturally significant and steeped in greater tradition. The party was held this past Saturday and prior to cramming into a taxi with Sergio and his immediate and extended family I spent a bit of time at his house, eating with and meeting his family members. An absolutely wonderful collection of people and to see them interact, to see their closeness really solidified my impression that family is of the utmost importance in Mexican culture. Like I mentioned the cab ride to the event hall was a tight fit since two cabs were sent for 12 persons, but we managed and I felt much closer to the family upon arrival. The party was a grand occasion with large, ornate gowns worn by the hostesses, great food, great drinks, and guests that were really in the mood to dance and celebrate until the wee, wee hours of the morning. There was a DJ playing various electronic party tunes and, of course, Mexican favorites that were enjoyed by all until 3 a.m. when the band arrived to take over musical duties until 5 a.m. The music and the dancing was, like most parties, the centerpiece of the late night and none were exempt of the latter. At one of my breaks from the action a thought reoccurred from a cousin’s wedding in Puerto Rico a few summers back, I have to wonder what my Nana and Sergio’s grandparents think of the popular music today, what thoughts run through their heads as a song entitled “Sexy Bitch,” is transmitted at a decibel loud enough to shake buildings and scare ear drums. Just a thought. Sergio’s family was nice of enough to alleviate the worry of making it home after the party came to a close by letting me stay at their home and I was greeted the next morning with a much needed cup of coffee and delicious piece of sweet bread. When I thought I had overstayed my welcome I was asked to stay for lunch and in the meantime play a card game by the name of “31” at 5 pesos a hand with the fellas. Lunch, like all the other meals graciously provided by Sergio’s mother, was delicious and it was exactly what I needed before catching a cab back to my apartment to ready myself for the work week ahead.