Toma Tu Teta
If anyone besides my father has been following our route on a map, they will be surprised to learn that we´re now in León, Nicaragua. It seems like only two days ago that we were two countries away in Guatemala. It seems this way because it´s true. We arrived in León last night after two full days of bus, boat, truck, and colectivo-ing our way through Honduras — which we skipped altogether. And here we are.
Though we had planned to summarize our experience in Guatemala into a neat top ten list of some sort, we realize that our time there was unsummarizable. Well, that and the fact that we´ve already written about all our most interesting Guatemalan experiences. (Except for this: Ricardo Arjona, Guatemala´s favorite son, has a new hit single entitled “Ayúdame Freud” (“Help Me Freud”) — it is a song about his mother.)
Time to move on.
Today we went to the Museum of Legends and Traditions in León. Museums are a great way to re-introduce yourself to travel, since they offer a nice, encapsulated slice of knowledge about a new place and almost immediately make you feel more connected.
Nothing could have made us feel more connected to León than the fable of the “Toma Tu Teta” woman. Loosely translated, this means, “Take Your Tit.” Once upon a time in León there lived a woman who had the large arms of a man and gigantic breasts. (This was illustrated in the museum by a life-sized woman wearing a black dress and exposing her right breast. She and her giant breast were made of paper mache.) Being formed in this way made her unmarriagable, a fact that drove her to insanity. Her insanity manifested itself in nocturnal ramblings through the streets of León in search of nice-looking men. Making use of her surprising stature (the very stature that made her life so difficult), she would catch these men, throw them to the ground, and shout “¡Toma tu teta!” while forcing her victim to suckle her massive boobage. When she was “satisfied” she would let the man up and go in search of new prey.
How weird is that?
Well, now we know. Thank you León.
-Both of Us. Equally.
Tags: Central America, Guatemala, Honduras, Leòn, Nicaragua, Travel
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hmmmm. I am the first to write. It says “no comments” in the comment section. Is that because “no comment” is the most appropriate response to the tale you tell?
I am wondering about this while in Philadelphia at the big modern language association convention (the MLA about which bethany wrote at the start of your blog). I delivered a paper I wrote and went though all the motions of responding to questions but … in truth… no comment has seemed the best response to me all day… how much better to be in Leon where … well… where things are apparently quite exciting.
I am staying with Bethany and Kate — and so I am content. They have a lot more to do with the MLA than I, poor things.
I am in increasing awe, i must say, about your trip! The spelunking thing seemed over the top, and I can not process AT ALL the image of sarah lost in a cave in deep water with nothing but a candle. Really, it’s just not true, right? but now you are in a land of dangerous big breasted /big armed women. Will you survive? I don’t want to hear tell of you rambling the streets at night hoping to make myths reality! Then again, Wesleyan will have prepared you for this particular adventure…if you didn’t learn spanish at wesleyan, you did learn to take down some truly ripped gals (ah the memories of the emergency room with Megan… sigh).
lots and lots of love to you both.
Like you do.
Welcome to Nicaragua!
I can tell who wrote, “Museums are a great way to re-introduce yourself to travel, since they offer a nice, encapsulated slice of knowledge about a new place and almost immediately make you feel more connected.”
I gotta say, however, the fact that Sarah would allow herself to be associated with such a statement speaks volumes about how broadening this experience has been already.
Viva.
Ha, Bill! I laughed at that line, too. But clearly love conquers all. Not, dear readers, that our Spond is not a highly curious and investigative critter, eager to learn and participate in the world around her. Please do not misunderstand me.
And clearly, what with the subject matter of these museums down there . . . even the most hardened despiser of museums would give in. “No, no thank you. I don’t want to go to the crazy tit-slinging female molester museum. How boring and hum-drum. I’ll just sit here and have another coffee. You go on in.”
We — Becca, Katie-Louise and I — are basically the victims of the wide-shouldered, large-armed, Big-Boobaged-ness of the MLA. Squashed to the ground by its giant miserableness, forced against our wills to submit to its strange desires . . . perhaps we should start a museum! I am interviewing 12 candidates for a job in our dept. the work is exhausting. But my three colleagues are fantastic, and we just order room service and lie around on the floor between candidates.
Meanwhile, my unmarriageableness is driving me slowly insane . . .
Love you guys heaps and loads. KISSSSSSES
Yes,
You are quite correct. I did not write the line about the museum. Those of you who know me well, know how I usually feel about museums (Besides, of course, the Ellis Island Museum which is, and has always been, totally rad).
Needless to say, Megan feels differently about houses of knowledge, and it´s a good thing, because if it were all up to me we´d probably both be lying around on the floor ordering room service instead of learning about the giant armed, large bosoomed, female molesters who roam the streets of León.
-Sarah
The subtleties of who wrote what escaped me but I appreciate the clarity. It seemed perfectly natural to read the statement on museums and I mused at your compatibility, even had a temporary longing for such a relationship of my own. You two make me smile. I love legends and your telling of such, but the logic of why someone with large arms and big breast is unmarriageable escapes me. Oh well.
I’m sorry that you, Megan, missed out on the spelunking and I hope your back has ceased causing you pain. I still think yoga is your answer. But, Sarah, what an adventure you had.
Austen left for Seattle yesterday and the house is as quiet as it was full. We missed you at Christmas but I think someone took a picture of the Yorkshire pudding. I have to admit, it was a dish of incredible beauty and taste this year. I may even break tradition and prepare it for your home coming in the summer.
I follow your journey and blog with love.
marmie