We Are Not Mexican.

We are not Mexican.

 

Many of us enjoy Mexican food and music and we’ve even learned to speak some Spanish (with heavy accents), and we celebrate the local holidays but we’re still not Mexican.  There’s at least one thing that sets us apart from our Mexican friends – our sense of time.

No, I’m not talking about the “manana” phenomenon.  I’m talking about our sense of Party Time.

The holiday season in La Paz runs from mid-December through Carnaval. And each occasion is a reason to throw a house party. 

Our first Christmas in La Paz we were invited to Marta and Gabo’s home on Dec. 24^th.  They said to come at 8 p.m.  We arrived at 8:10.  The house was dark.  We sat in the car for twenty minutes and wondered if we’d misunderstood.  At 8:30 we knocked. Gabo opened the door, invited us into the living room and said, “Marta will be downstairs soon; she’s in the shower.”  I sat on the edge of the chair and gripped the Cuba Libre that Gabo had placed in my hand.  Alex drained his in three gulps.  And we waited. 

Soon other ex-pats began to arrive.  We exchanged looks and shrugged our shoulders. Together we waited. At 9:00 Marta hurried down the stairs.  She looked beautiful.  Hair, make-up and high heels – all perfect.  At 9:45 (nearly two hours after we’d knocked on the door) Mexicans began to arrive. By 10:30 the party was in full swing.  The Mexicans were laughing and telling stories but I noticed that our extranjero friends were beginning to droop.  At eleven o’clock Sally and Mike stood.  Marta said to them, “You can’t leave yet.  We’re going to have dinner soon.”  They sat down.  At midnight a delicious calorie-rich dinner was served.   At 2 we drank espresso and ate chocolate rum cake.  When we left the party at 4:15 a.m. Marta’s parents, who were in their late 70s, walked us to our car. They were wide-eyed and seemed energized.

We assumed that we’d be the only people on the road at that hour but we were wrong.  Traffic was heavy.  And the taco and hot dog stands were crowded.  I said to Alex, “Look at all these people – can you believe it?”  We weren’t in another dimension; we were in Party Time – Mexican Style.

That was fourteen years ago.  And every Mexican party it’s been the same.  Arrive at ten.  Eat at midnight.  Don’t expect to climb into bed before three o’clock. 

What must Mexicans think when they come to the typical extranjero party?  Arrive at five o’clock, dinner served at six, dessert at seven, and on your way home by eight.  We laugh and can tell jokes, too, but we subscribe to a Readers Digest version of Partying. 

Some of us regularly go to bed by 9 p.m. but it’s not like we need to go to work in the morning. Others admit that they like to leave a party early so they can go home to relax and unwind.  Could attending a party be an effort for us?

Perhaps it’s a cultural difference?

We’ve been fortunate enough to travel to Argentina, Greece and Italy and in each of these countries dinner (whether at home or at a restaurant) is normally enjoyed after 10 p.m. and live music doesn’t begin until midnight. Yet people go to work, clean their houses, play with their children and still have time for friends.

People in those countries usually work until late in the evening.  Is that a factor?  Could living in extended families inject people with more energy? Maybe drinking strong coffee in the afternoon and again in the evening has something to do with it?   

I have many questions but very few answers.  But I realize that there’s no right way or no wrong way to enjoy a party.  Just different ways.  So, I’ll be happy to come to your party whether it starts at

5 or 10 p.m.   Please, invite me. Just don’t call after nine.