Dìa de la Madre

So !Felìz Dìa de la Madre¡ Yes this time honored tradition of loving up on Mom has made its way south. It has actually been here for quite a while. I am told that an American or someone who lived in America brought it down here. Some say that in passing, others seem purturbed by it, as they purchase flowers and other gifts fro their mom. So here is my thing for them ¨If you do not like it do not celebrate it, and quit calling it an American holiday, because it isn´t. No one forces you to observe it.¨ Oh wait, yes their own Peruvian culture forces them too. The streets once lined with bread and vegetable carts are now jammed with little carts hocking a myriad of red roses, trinkets and cakes too. Cakes, cards, roses, and a visit with mom seem to be the theme for the day. That visit to mom or with mom somewhere else seems to be accompanied by lunch.


I saw a cartoon in the paper today that showed a son giving his mom a handful of cooking utensils for Mother´s Day. It was accompanied by him saying here is your mother´s day gift so now you can ALWAYS cook my meals. The mother in the cartoon was not over joyed, but more like overwhelmed by her son´s gift. It sort of reiterates the truth of the machista culture here, and yes real people were buying cooking utensils for their mom´s like spoons and pots (not like it doesn´t happen in the United States either...a new blender or vaccum cleaner for mom. Who knows the difference, mom does.)


For Ayacuchanos whose mothers were no longer living, they took a bouquet of flowers to the graveyard. Paco, my host dad, did this for his mom Isabel. He said there were alot of folks there. Some were half lit, and others totally lit to replace their family members.


So I settled for a skype conversation with my mom from South Carolina. The little camera took me right into the room with her, all the way from the Andes Mountains.


Friday night, at the Paz Y Esperanza Office we held a little gathering for mothers and wives of the workers. My host mom was traveling and unable to atend. There was a pollo al la brasa supper, games like pin the hat on the mamà, three legged race, and a toilet paper relay, and a rose and card recognition. We also had a cake for Jhon´s (yes I spelled it right) birthday.


Sunday Paco, Franco, and I went to the Presbyterian Quechua service at church. Afterwards all were greeting one another with wishes of a happy mother´s day. The Quechua women refer to one another as mamà. So everyone they meet is in someway a mother. It is a term of respect and endearment. Besides gordita (my little fat person) they also call me mamá gringita )mama little white lady).


On Sunday afternoon we made it home and got ourselves ready to go to the house of Celia´s brother, Hernando. Her family, including her mother mamà Michilda were there. They had prepared a most succulent and delicious pacha manca. It is my favorite Peruvian dish.
It is where your cook the meat and potatoes in the ground in a pit with hot rocks and season it all with HUACATAY or black mint. 10 kinds of yumminess!! You give to the mother earth pacha mama and she gives back!!!