< Disclaimer> < Return To Issue Article Index >

December 2004 ‘Twas the day before Christmas I stare out of the front of the boat at an unbroken plain of green. This vast prairie of water lilies is home to a myriad of birds with exotic names (tuci-tuci, garza, urututu, tijerilla), spiders and dragonflies of varying colors and the occasional caiman. Over the river and through the woods. Not to grandma’s, this time it was off to Tia Nilsa’s. Down to the end of the Cocha, into the Rio, up a side creek, through a seemingly endless plain of lily pads and water lilies. Picking up passengers and cargo along the way, a ton of corn, a load of firewood, two chickens, a dozen chicks, a live pig for someone’s Christmas dinner, and some butchered pork for ours. Not your average trip to Macy’s for some last minute Christmas shopping.  The alleged purpose of the trip was to take Tia back home after she came to town with some fresh deer meat to sell for Christmas. Cash in hand she buys supplies (noodles, rice, cooking oil, cigarettes etc.) for her “bodega”, loads them in the boat, and off we go at 6 a.m. the next morning, the 23rd of December.

Tia Nilsa's place

Four and half hours later Tia butchers a rooster for lunch; Tio Israel butchers our Christmas pig. We feast on fresh “rooster noodle soup”, grilled fish and grilled maduros (ripe bananas). Dessert consists of cold lemonade, (grandpa has just picked the lemons) or cebada (a drink made from roasted barley), papaya and mangos.

An hour later and we’re back in the boat, headed home through a heavily forested part of the jungle. After picking up more passengers on the way, we’re home before dark.

Christmas Comes To The Little Blue House

The level of poverty in this part of rural America is gut wrenching by U.S. standards. But we’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto. There is a richness and joie d’ vivre here that won’t be soiled with money. The joy of real Christmas, unmarred by the crass grotesqueries of the Wall Street ad hacks and the Hollywood pressmen, permeates the air and is electric almost to the touch. People hurry about in motocarros overloaded with last minute groceries, beer, liquor, soda, cakes and gifts. Many of these people have saved for a year or more for the fiestas tonight and for Año Nuevo as well. Each home will have its own fiesta, attendant with vast amounts of food, liquor, and panetones from Peru, candies, hot chocolate and dancing to cumbias, salsa and ballenatos until the wee hours of the morning. It’s hard to tell whether the excitement has spread from child to adult or vice versa. At midnight all will gather for a chorus of Noche de Paz and most will sing with smiles on their faces and tears in their eyes. None will be turned away this night, in the Spirit of the Christ Child. Neighbors will wander from house to house, sharing food, drink, music, gifts, gossip and at least one dance. 
.

After the sun goes down, Mama Nanci and Ñaña Irma begin serving the masamora and panetone, first to the children of the barrio then to adults. Any and all who come with cup or bowl in hand are served. 

At nine the party starts. As well as Navidad, it also happens to be the birthday of Manuel, Mama Nanci’s husband. There will be some serious partying tonight. Besides the beer, leche de monja (Nun’s milk) will be consumed in vast quantities. It’s made from beaten eggs, condensed milk, sugar and aguardiente, and is deceptively sweet and smooth. Few will escape the hangover, and most will sleep from early morning (after breakfast) until late afternoon on Christmas Day, and the party will continue, sporadically, until after Año Nuevo.

To contact Vagabundo Click Here

The following is the first article that Vagabundo wrote for the magazine:

Under The Shade Of The Mango Tree ~ Into The Colombian Amazon
.

< Send a Letter to the Editor > < Subscribe> < Submit An Article >< Disclaimer>