There were many children games at the one year old’s birthday celebration but alas no pinata. And no loud Mexican music either which I mean in a good way. In my culture, loud music equates to fiestas and celebrations. The only reminder of the family’s heritage was the taco stand. But the children were all happy, even the adults who acted like children, releasing all the kid spirits in them. In short, it was a party for all, not just for the young ones.
The taco makers kept stirring me away from the hot peppery sauces and marinated cucumbers. In the end he gave up, giving me a warning look “Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.” On my second trip I told her Filipinos are also used to hot peppers, probably not just at their heat level and not as frequent in our dishes, but we sure could take some heat.
The grandfather and fathers in the family had a large stash of fireworks. It went through the night, and from the comfort of my bed, long after the shrieking and laughter of the children died down, I could hear the noise up to the middle of the night. I wish I could have stayed out to watch the lit up sky but by then my legs were tired from cooking food in preparation for our picnic today.
365 Project: Day 181