Thanksgiving Preparations

Some of you know that we weren't able to celebrate Thanksgiving yesterday because it is a normal day for most Bolivians. We have invited our Church over tomorrow to share the day with us instead. We will have everything except for the Turkey. We have cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, green beans, dressing, corn, carrots, broccoli casserole, pumpkin pie, apple pie, banana cake, and maybe some deviled eggs if Drew has enough time.

I was originally told that we would have between 20 and 25 people come over, but now am told to prepare for up to 50 people. I am excited, and surprisingly not too overwhelmed. With yesterday and today off, and the houe empty, I can hopefully get a lot done. I am not, however, doing this alone. I have had many offers of help from friends here. One in particular, I would like to share.

I have befriended a little, (really, she comes up to maybe to my shoulders) old, Quechua lady named Santusa with two long black braides down her back. Her youngest daughter, my age, just moved to Argentina. So she likes to come and visit and take care of me. Santusa has some spark to her. She comes regularly to youth group, and plays all the games with us. She is fun.

I asked Santusa if she would help me with the preparations for the big day tomorrow. She gladly agreed. I went by her house yesterday to see if she might have time today to go with me to the market. We agreed that I would pass by her house around 8:30 and we could leave from there. This morning, I heard a knock on the door at 6:15. The sun is up here by 6, so it was bright outside. Drew and I were in bed still because we had been to a graduation party last night until late. I got up, and there was Santusa ready to go with her market bags in hand.

We were off by 6:30. I was sure there wouldn't be anyone out, but I was quickly proven wrong. All along, Santusa is laughing at me for not realizing that people leave their house at 6 to go to the market. We went to a market where I believe I was the only one not dressed in traditional clothing. As we were driving through on the bus, I wanted so bad to take pictures to share what markets are like here, but pictures are missing the noise, smell, and confusion that markets seem to bring here.

Today, Santusa and I were looking for the meat that we could cook. We decided on chicken and pork. She took me to a part of the market that only sells pork (somewhat of a rare thing here). There were tables and tables of whole pigs that were slit down the middle and gutted. Sitting out on the tables were large hunks of the pig, and you just pick what you want. Santusa picked some meat out then asked the woman to cut it up for us into smaller pieces. How she did it, I was not expecting at all. She picked up the meat (all 5 kilos, which is about 12 pounds), puts it all on a table, and pulls out an axe. She starts swinging the axe over her head and chopping the meat like she is splitting firewood. Santusa seemed to be pleased, I was in shock.

Next we went to the chicken lady. I am more accustomed to the chicken stalls, because our neighbor has one in her house. Here chickens come whole, with the head, just a small slit in the neck. We had quite a shock the first time we bought chicken. We got on youtube to find out how to cut up a whole chicken. This morning was the same. Tables full of whole chickens being thrown here and there to customers. It is still something to get used to, even after 4 months.

Our next stop was to a lady sitting on the side with HUGE bags of all kinds of spices with no names. Apparently, all you have to do is tell her what you are cooking and and how (grill, oven, or fried) and she will mix something special for you.

All in all, it was an educational experience. Going to the market is still one of my favorite things to do, its always an adventure. Today, I just wanted to share one of those experiences with you all.