A Family Reunion
One Sunday afternoon I accompanied my homestay family, the Sirias, to visit the town of Nagarote, a medium-sized settlement about an hour or so from León. This was the town where Maria, my homestay mother, grew up. She still has a lot of family there. The outing transformed into something of a family reunion, and provided me with a unique glimpse at family relationships here in Nicaragua.
When Maria told me we were going to el pueblo, I expected a village--a place remote and poor. That description does not fit this town of 10,000 people. The streets were paved, clean, and set on a neatly arranged grid. The houses were all small, built out of brick, with colorful exteriors. In fact, Nagarote has won the ¨Nicaragua´s cleanest city¨award several years in a row. Some of the inhabitants own the surrounding grazing land, and they earn an income that way.
We went inside Maria´s parent´s house, and it was typically laid out. It also seemed, like many Nicaraguan homes I´ve visited, to be strangely devoid of furniture. It was as if they had just moved in. There were only a few rocking chairs scattered in the living room, and the enormous cupboards in the bedrooms seem to hold all of the family´s possessions.
Soon we shifted to another house around the corner, belonging to a cousin, and the festivities began. Carloads of people arrived from the capital, dressed smartly. Then hugs and hearty handshakes. Then pulling up a chair. More cousins popping in to say hi. Children race around with plastic toys, screaming with delight. Garrulous women monitor a bubbling cauldron. Men lounge contentedly on plastic chairs. The big pot is stewing.
Lunch was a real feast. I was presented with an enormous plate of boiled vegetables and meat, piled high on top of each other. Then a deep, murky stew with more of the same. Another cold beer thrust into my hands. Delicious.
Everyone hung out for a few hours, talking and laughing and telling stories. I hung out mostly with Nedar, Maria´s eldest son who now works as a doctor in the army in Managua. He had plenty of interesting stories about his life there. And I was happy to observe the festivities on a relaxed Sunday afternoon. It just seemed so natural to me, like many of the family reunions I have known. One old man came up to me and told me I was now a member of the family. I think he said it because I finished my stew and then accepted a little more.
After warm farewells, I hopped into the jeep with Señor and Nedar. We set out to look for Maria, who had quickly gone to visit an uncle. But since she´s related to practically everyone in town in one way or another, it took us a while to track her down.
Finally, we all piled into the jeep, ready to go. A cousin came out to give Maria one last hug. Señor didn´t realize that this was one of those long hugs, and he eased the car into drive. Suddenly the cousin was half-running and half-dragging down the street with the car. We all laughed as she untangled herself from this prolonged embrace.
When Maria told me we were going to el pueblo, I expected a village--a place remote and poor. That description does not fit this town of 10,000 people. The streets were paved, clean, and set on a neatly arranged grid. The houses were all small, built out of brick, with colorful exteriors. In fact, Nagarote has won the ¨Nicaragua´s cleanest city¨award several years in a row. Some of the inhabitants own the surrounding grazing land, and they earn an income that way.
We went inside Maria´s parent´s house, and it was typically laid out. It also seemed, like many Nicaraguan homes I´ve visited, to be strangely devoid of furniture. It was as if they had just moved in. There were only a few rocking chairs scattered in the living room, and the enormous cupboards in the bedrooms seem to hold all of the family´s possessions.
Soon we shifted to another house around the corner, belonging to a cousin, and the festivities began. Carloads of people arrived from the capital, dressed smartly. Then hugs and hearty handshakes. Then pulling up a chair. More cousins popping in to say hi. Children race around with plastic toys, screaming with delight. Garrulous women monitor a bubbling cauldron. Men lounge contentedly on plastic chairs. The big pot is stewing.
Lunch was a real feast. I was presented with an enormous plate of boiled vegetables and meat, piled high on top of each other. Then a deep, murky stew with more of the same. Another cold beer thrust into my hands. Delicious.
Everyone hung out for a few hours, talking and laughing and telling stories. I hung out mostly with Nedar, Maria´s eldest son who now works as a doctor in the army in Managua. He had plenty of interesting stories about his life there. And I was happy to observe the festivities on a relaxed Sunday afternoon. It just seemed so natural to me, like many of the family reunions I have known. One old man came up to me and told me I was now a member of the family. I think he said it because I finished my stew and then accepted a little more.
After warm farewells, I hopped into the jeep with Señor and Nedar. We set out to look for Maria, who had quickly gone to visit an uncle. But since she´s related to practically everyone in town in one way or another, it took us a while to track her down.
Finally, we all piled into the jeep, ready to go. A cousin came out to give Maria one last hug. Señor didn´t realize that this was one of those long hugs, and he eased the car into drive. Suddenly the cousin was half-running and half-dragging down the street with the car. We all laughed as she untangled herself from this prolonged embrace.
posted by Hayden @ 12:00 PM
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