¡Niño Takeover!

Last week some local indigenous people took over a government building and detained some workers. The military came swooping in (the first and only time I've seen helicopters above our city), shut some roads down, and started negotiations. The kids were at school when this all started, and the teachers responded by locking the gates and keeping the kids inside. That afternoon, one of the parents advised us to keep the kids home from school the next day, Friday. So we did and really enjoyed our day, as two godmothers, Lynne and Shen, had come to visit. 

Off and on throughout the weekend, we got various information about the safety situation--it was bien; it was muy tenso; the indigenous were targeting foreigners. (Proof: an Argentinian restaurant burned over the weekend! But others said that was a simple accident.) So as usual we failed to really grasp the situation. 

In any case, yesterday (Monday) it became clear that it was the NIñOS who had taken over our fair city! Dressed up as Juan Diego (the boys) or in indigenous clothing from around Mexico (the girls), they were coming in droves to our neighborhood to climb (or be carried) up to the Templo de Guadalupe to honor La Virgen and receive a blessing. 

See the zeal burning in his eyes.
Clearly nothing short of  total niño
world domination will satisfy him.

A flicker of trepidation in the faces of
these two Juanitos. Can they carry out
their mission? Sí, se puede. 

This little girl is steadfast. Ready.

Nothing can stop the niños now. 

Tomorrow is the feast day of the Virgen de Guadalupe. So we can expect all of the parades, pilgrimages, firecrackers, carnival rides, feasting, singing, praying, and drinking to reach its pinnacle within the next 24 hours. We can hardly move around in our neighborhood now (we live a couple of blocks from the Templo), but on the other hand, where else would we want to go? We're wonderfully in the middle of all of it.

Our neighbor just put up this sign. (Too
bad Shen wasn't here to buy some new
threads for her baby Jesuses.)

Patrimonio

When Oscar and Wilhelmina remark on how nice Mexicans are to their kids, Sean and I like to point out that this is because--let's face it--their children are cuter than anyone else's. 

Last week at the kids' school, we celebrated the Day of the Revolution. Let your mind drift to what you imagine or remember learning about Mexico, 1910...Porfirio Díaz is a dictator, the people call for change and Emiliano Zapata and Pancho Villa (and others) lead them in revolt.

Two Adelitas--female soldiers immortalized
in the "Adelita" folk song--do some 'splaining.

Oscar's pal Carlos chillaxin between battles. The little fires
around the school yard were meant to lend an intimate,
"rebel camp" feel to the event.

The train (seen behind the kids here)  is a big part of the
iconography of the Day of  the Revolution. Apparently
rebels often rode the rails to the front. I bet Porfirio
Díaz wished he hadn't built that darn railroad...

Lots of folk songs and dances celebrate La Revolución.

Oscar was Belisario Domingez, a senator.

Wilhelmina and Lore helped in the kitchen and took
advice about facial depilación.

Also for El Día de la Revolución, there was a big parade (yes, another one!) in the Centro. It was mostly school kids dressed up like heroes of the revolution. All of this ancestor-homage was reminding me of the Day of the Dead....

Senators, soldiers, and slogans.

Do not mess with these soldaderas.

Campesinos with machetes.

Wonderful paper-mache-headed guy.

A salute!

He might be on the wrong side of history,
but he's having fun.

Senators, soldiers, and senoritas.

These rebels came singing.

La policia made a (loud) appearance.

The train, along with some student nurses.

More nursing students, with some
very take-charge-looking ladies.

This canon boomed out pop music,
Gangnam  style.

I don't get the revolutionary connection, but it's pretty.

These cuties look very ready for change they can believe in.

This group enacted a battle every half-block
or so. One kid would set off a bunch of
firecrackers and the government soldiers would
go down. Rebels and bystanders would cheer. 

No clean-up for these horses. Good idea!

Más musicos.

More train, too.

A secondary theme of the Day of the Revolution parade was, apparently, physical fitness. Several schools showed off their moves.

Martial artists.

Martial Aztecs? (Or Olmecs, or Toltecs or...?)

Jump-ropers, followed by...

...pyramid-makers, followed by...

...American footballers.

Jugadores.

Girls, too.

These guys popped wheelies,
but cracked no smiles.

At the end of the week, we went to an incredible first-year birthday party for Jesusito. (He's the grandson of Doña Lesvia, the son of her son Rodolfo Jesus, who died just before Christmas last year, when Jesusito was 20 days old.) We wondered if first-birthday parties are always such a big deal, or if this party was especially grand because of the circumstances.

La entrada to the party.

The amazing cake.

This was a fun race. Everyone sang a song
about a worm and the kid-worms tried to
wiggle their way toward the finish line.
(Segmentation was a common problem.)

Another fun game.

Here's how people here have solved the age-old problem of turn-taking with piñatas: first, there's often more than one (everyone gets a chance) and second, they sing a song that delimits the whacking-time allowed each child. Wilhelmina typed the song out for me so we can use it at home:
Dale dale dale, no pierdas el tino,          [Give it, give it, give it--don't lose the knack!]
porque si lo pierdes,                               [Because if you lose it]
pierdes el camino,                                  [You will lose the path!]
ya le diste uno,                                       [You just gave it ONE]
ya le diste dos,                                       [You just gave it TWO]
ya le diste tres y su tiempo se acabó!     [You just gave it THREE...and now your time is through!]

Jesus liked to ride the piñatas. (There were
TEN piñatas at the fiesta!)

Oscar took his turn.

With his frosting mustache, his beautiful mama, his friends.

Though he died last year, Rodolfo de Jesus was surely present at his son's party. His in-laws (Gabby's parents) had left messages for him on posters on the walls. Here's what the posters said:

Thank you, little son-in-law
For leaving us this great treasure
And as you already know
Today he completes his first year....

Flaquito ["Skinny"--his nickname]
The piñatas are of characters that you liked the most
And the cake is your favorite, too
And everything is just as you like it, here in the grandparents' house...

Behind Gabby and Jesus, you can see the messages for
their beloved dead.

It's an Educación

The kids are getting sex education in school--like, getting it repeatedly and ongoingly--and Sean and I are being reminded (repeatedly and ongoingly) how comparatively lame sex education is in their previous school in Utah. And in the being-reminded, we are also thinking about how the, um, climate of U.S. prudishness (shall we say), has made us more prudish than we'd realized.

First of all, the fact that human sexuality even exists as a school subject here in the elementary grades? This was surprising to us. In Utah, the kids get a "maturation" talk once a year starting in the fifth grade; this little lecture does not address humans having sex at all and is NOT a co-ed experience. The girls get a menstruation tutorial; apparently the boys get a heads up on wet dreams (though in a sex-mention-free way that is a little mystifying); for both girls and boys, mood swings and the need for deodorant are emphasized.

There's the fact that here, the topic is covered so comprehensively, as part of biology. Wilhelmina has done an illustrated poster of fetal development; other classmates covered menstruation, puberty, and conception.  She has written reports on contraception and sexually transmitted diseases (and pasted some really grotesque Google images into her reports.) Talking about this this morning, Wilhelmina told me that during the maturation talks in Utah, if a student asked a question about sex, the teachers were required to abstain from answering it.

Sex ed here includes discussion about the social and cultural context. Leafing through an official Chiapas state textbook, I see that the sex/gender distinction is covered in Chapter 1; Chapter 2 explains the unfair "doble moral" (double standard) that results in girls having more "prohibiciones" related to their bodies and their sexual conduct; Chapter 3 includes a section titled, "Sexual rights are human rights."

Finally, sex ed here includes discussion of pleasure and love. Both kids have been officially reassured about the thorough okayness of masturbation; as a result of recent lectures Oscar has been talking about how the loving feelings that a person has for a spouse or boyfriend/girlfriend are different from the ones you might have for a "regular" friend. He's completely convinced of this.

However, he's still unclear about his assignment for Thursday...he says he's supposed to find out some stuff about sexuality (from the Internet? A book? Interviews??) and bring it with him to class. Driving the kids home from school on Friday and pondering Oscar's assignment dilemma, I suggested to Sean that perhaps we could locate a copy of "The Joy of Sex" in a bookstore.  Sean's idea was a Spanish-language "Kuma Satra."

"Kama Sutra?" I said.

Wilhelmina sighed audibly from the backseat.

We've got a lot to learn.

Party On

On Wednesday Sean said, "I just got some news that's going to make your weekend." Our landlady is installing a bathtub? No. "But there's another big festival this weekend, at the Iglesia de San Diego."

So on Friday night we bundled up (getting cold here now) and headed out to the church. First, we did a circuit to check out the offerings: food (churros, pizza, potato chips, some kind of stew, elotes, more churros), games (foosball, arcade games), and rides (kiddie cars, carousel, plus a ride that had the Savior painted on it and, aptly, lifted the riders up into the air on neon wings (La Ascención-Arama?)).

We fueled up on churros and hit the foosball first. That was fun, and we played for longer than I have ever played. Just as we began to consider the possibility of a carpal-tunnel epidemic within the family, we were drawn away from the table by the announcement of the main entertainment in front of the church: the lucha libre!

El Gato attacks! 

Filled with religious fascination, the boys watched
the fight between El Gato and Abuelito.

The church formed the backdrop
for the fierce cat-on-grandpa action.

Incredibly, one of the fighters had to be carried out of the ring! Dios mío! 

Later, inspired by comic violence, we hit the shooting gallery. We were all such good shots we drew a (small)(and short-statured) group of admirers. In the interest of fairness, two videos: the first is of one of Oscar's shot; the second is of one of Wilhelmina's.

The rest of the weekend, we went to three different birthday parties. We must be hitting our social stride. 

This is a picture of one of the luchadores
being carried away. But it also represents
the experience of having been to
three parties in one weekend!
A blurry, groovy feeling.