Needing a change of scenery…Guatemala anyone?

The weekend was very eventful and was seen in with Arne, the German guy who’s also staying with the family’s birthday. Cue lots of el pastel and cervesa in the bars of Antigua and some mildly dehabilitating headaches on Saturday. However we needed to be back on top form regardless of hangovers for the youngest child Gabrielle’s (aka Tony Soprano) 8th birthday. Who would have ever thought that an 8 year old’s party would have resulted in me seeing so many firsts?

The aptly renamed Tony Soprano is the most hilarious child I have ever met, he’s just such a  bad ass. There was something acutely unsettling, yet wholey fascinating about watching the child chase his friends around the garden, face covered with cake, squealing with delight yet waving about a pair of numchucks.Yes the scene was disturbing- but he’s not my kid, so priceless all the same!

If that wasn’t enough to keep me suitably entertained and occupied throughout the party where no one spoke a word of English, there then came the Pinata! Now of course I knew what one was , I’ve seen “Parenthood” but as a novice I was not aware of the raw aggression that this ritual was fueled with. The children took it in turns to savagely wallop the Pinata (a large papier mache model of alomst nearly anything, that hangs from the ceiling) with a decorated club, until they finally “kill” it and tens of dozens of sweets spill out onto the floor.

I was in awe from start to finish. Never have I seen anyone, especially 8 year olds, apply themselves with such immense intensity to a task. They were totally “in the zone”. Then when the thing finally explodes with sweets it’s every man for himself (adults included) in the dive cum scrum to get as many sweets as possible in the Kung Fu Panda party bag. Unfortuanely my Britishness didn’t permit me to get involved in the savage rough n tumble of collecting the sweets and I just stood back to the wall, speechless!

What with it being a children’s party it died down quite early, Tony Soprano exhausted and suitably unsatisfied with the presents we brought him -but what can you buy a kid that swings numchucks? Not felt tip pens and plastercine.

Sunday was also a spectacle but one of more Holy proportions. At around midday Michael and I who were in our room revising were disturbed by Katrina the dog going loco. We went to check on her only to find her getting more and more agitated as the distant sounds of drums came closer. After comforting her as much as we could (she still peed all over the floor) we stuck out heads out onto the street, in perfect time to be greeted by a 6 foot model of Jesus, being carried along with a handful of disciples, on a float with about 20 men and boys in purple robes struggling underneath. He was closely followed by a large brass band (the cause of Katrina’s distress) and a second float this time carrying the Virgin Mary and a lamb.

The streets were in absoloute chaos, quite an organised chaos- we are in the land of guns after all, but people had flocked from near and far to be part of the first of many sunday processions that will go throughout towns and cities until easter. It really was remarkable. It’s a shame that British Protestants can’t muster up enough enthusiasm for JC, it looked to be quite a fun family day out!

And finally…..

….today after 9months Michael got a haircut! It cost Q30 and doesn’t look too bad at all! After seeing the pictures on the barbarshop wall we were pleasently suprised with what his style was turned into, because if the pictures are to be believed a ginger bowel cut is very “now’!

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