There are tons of things that happen every week that I look around for someone else to find what is going on as ridiculous as I do, and then realize I'm all alone in that assessment and end up laughing to myself. Like the one time I saw a skinny man who spoke no English wearing a shirt that said, “I (heart sign) my curves”. Generally when this happens I think of you guys and make a mental note to tell you next time we talk, but of course my memory isn't what it use to be. I blame the malaria meds. Instead we talk about gossip and family and how I'm going to the beach again on a break from work. Well lucky for you I went to a anniversary of a high school with a note pad and this blog in mind. Apparently Nicaraguans find every possible reason to have a party. It's like being in college again, but less functional. Instead of having a super hero pub crawl just because it's a random Tuesday in January and we haven't gone out in awhile, it's a annual rodeo weekend that takes a week to prepare for, which of course means no school or work. At least the end of the pub crawl ended with us crawling to the library to print out a paper for Monday morning. This week's distraction was a high school anniversary in a neighboring town. We already had the one for our town a couple of weeks ago so I knew what to expect, lots of kids, no classes, fried food and, of course, a beauty contest. Really I can't think of a better way to say “Happy Birthday” to a high school than to parade awkward adolescences in front of all of their classmates in little skirts and judge them. And apparently neither can Nicaraguans. Actually a beauty contest seems to be the preferred activity for every event. I've already been to 4 and I've only been here for 6 months. Usually the contestants are 13-16 years old, skinny and really good at popping their hips to accent their cat walk. The pageants also usually invite the old winners to do a dance. Trying to get all the time out of these girls that they can. Today's event started with such group of girls doing a dance with short shorts, belly showing tops and a cowboy hat. Generally I would think this is awkward enough, but one of the girls was slightly heavier than the rest. I'm not trying to discriminate against fat people, but I know I wouldn't want to be in that outfit, well, ever. I couldn't stop staring at that one unlucky girl. And her belly kept winking back at me. It was like those jean commercials where the belly buttons are singing “I'm coming out”, only less singable. I broke my stare to look around and, per usual, no one thought it was weird. I had myself a chuckle and looked forward as the actual contestants came out. The pageant went on like all the rest, traditional outfit, “sports wear” which is pretty much just a sports bra and jean shorts, “fantasy” where the girls get to make their own dresses and at last the evening gowns at 11am. I didn't stay to see who won because the noon bus came and I was more interested in getting back for lunch. And that was my “work” for the day. Bonding with my co-teachers and learning a little more about the Nicaraguan psyche.
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1 comment:
i just love your blog, you should have been a writer. Maybe you will write a book about your travels!!! Happy almost birthday. Love you mom
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