No margaritas, unfortunately

Two days ago we invited our neighbors over to our home.  In this culture, people mostly do the tea thing - you have guests over either before or after dinner, normally around 5 p.m. or 8 p.m., and have tea accompanied by a sweet and savory side dish.  The event lasts around two hours, although if you go before dinner, it can last all night (as it did for us the other week).

Well, this was a family we’ve hung out with quite a bit, so we went ahead and took the plunge and invited them for dinner.  We’ve been told that having guests over for dinner signifies an interest in a real friendship, and not just a cordial acquaintance.  And here, real friendship, over time, can become fairly intense, depending on the people.  We’ve really clicked with these neighbors of ours, so we want this to be the case.

We also went all-out and did something else daring - we had Mexican food for dinner.  That’s right, I made chicken enchiladas, Spanish rice, refried beans, salsa, and tortilla chips, with pumpkin chocolate chip bread for dessert.  This is a culture that doesn’t derivate too far from the usual food fare, so I knew it would be a risky move.  But these friends of ours are pretty globally-minded - they speak English, they both have advanced degrees, and they’re about as post-modern and urban as you can get for a local here.

So we figured - why not go with food I know how to do, instead of pretend like I know how to make the local food, and end up with a mediocre meal at best?  It turned out to be a great move - they loved it.  I was honestly surprised.  At first, when I brought out the enchiladas, the wife thought it was a type of lasagna, and I thought “oh no, here we go.”  But when I described how to make them, she realized she’d never had this type of exotic food, and wanted a sample.  It was a hit with her, and her husband even took seconds.  Whoa!

Of course, their four-year-old daughter, who is an over-the-top picky eater anyway, told her parents that she had had enchiladas before, and didn’t care for them.  They forced one bite down her throat, then she was allowed to play.  This was true to form in this culture (although at home, her mom would have spoon-fed her.  Most kids are spoon-fed until they go to kindergarten, where they learn how to feed themselves for the first time.  They think Chickpea is a downright genius).  And even truer to form, later they gave her some sugar cubes to suck on.

Even though it’s cool-ish outside here,  I find it to be sweltering in our home because our neighbors above and below us have their heaters going full-speed (and of course, I am eight months pregnant) .  The hallways of our building are also heated, and it will probably be that way until May or so.  So we were concerned how to keep our home warm enough for our guests to be comfortable, yet not so warm that I pass out.  Seriously - poor Kabob has been freezing in our home these days, because I’m always so dadgum hot.  We went ahead and closed the windows we usually keep open, and we put away our fans.  I dressed in short-sleeves and capris, and Chickpea wore a sundress.  Trust me, we were more than fine - this place is warm.

So I had to laugh when the first thing the wife said when she entered our home was, “Oh my goodness!  Chickpea is naked!”  And she bent down to rub her arms and legs, to keep her from getting frostbite I suppose.  Chick just smiled and gave her a hug.

Overall, our first experience of hosting locals in our own home went well.  I was definitely wiped out at the end of the evening, and I’m not sure how much more I can do before Garbanzo’s birth.  But we’re glad we did it, and we hope it’s one more step towards getting to know our new friends.