Since coming to Lima, I have only
been involved in a handful of social outings, with most of them not even being
genuine Peruvian adventures, but rather just fun times with my roommate and
friends from the States. The first weekend I was here however, I had the unique
opportunity to watch Peru compete in their final qualifying match for the World
Cup at a local bar. It was quite exciting—patrons drank themselves into
boisterous oblivion, roaring angrily during game lows, then bursting into
celebratory song at each anticipated high. When I arrived at the bar, I was introduced
to a young, well-dressed woman sporting mute, yet chic, colors and her equally
stylish boyfriend in a red track jacket, both of whom welcomed us to sit with
them. The experience itself was something I won’t soon forget and concluded
with my friends and I being invited to a birthday party, weeks away, for the
girl we had sat with. My friends had known her for the last six months or so,
and seemed to be sincerely close with her. The aforementioned party took place this
past weekend and was truly one of my first authentic Peruvian experiences—being
that, over the last couple of weeks, the party transitioned from being a
supposed “banger” at a rowdy nightclub to a more subdued intimate celebration
at her aunt’s apartment for family and close friends. Whichever way it was to
go down, I was slightly nervous in regards to the event, thanks to my lack of
fluency in the Spanish language, as well as the fact that I knew none of the
people that were to attend. But, with my nerves flying at high altitude and a
little apprehension, I nonetheless decided to venture into the social wild and
attend the celebration.
Back home
in the States, I would usually have a bunch of different outfit options, of which
I did my best to bring here, however, my timing was unusually unfortunate and
the party had found me at the cusp of a new laundry cycle. The only available
articles of clean clothing in my closet were a gray flannel, a pair of
maroon-ish jeans, and my black pullover. With my Frankensteined outfit
assembled and a quick foray with the mirror—in an attempt at some sort of
hairstyle; we sadly have no brush, I joined up with my two friends and begun
the night. The party was taking place at an apartment only ten minutes or so
from our own, so we took the opportunity to walk the streets of the Surquillo
district and the beautiful Miraflores district. When we arrived at the
apartment door belonging to the birthday girl’s aunt, we were welcomed in by
her grandmother, who greeted us with a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek—the
customary greeting for women down here. She was a hospitable woman, who
exemplified the exact image and definition of “grandmother”, with her friendly
conversation and charitable offerings of anything we might need. After entering
the apartment, we walked down a short slender hallway, past an arched alcove on
the left in which the kitchen was housed, and arrived at a wonderfully, and
appropriately for the occasion, decorated room with two tan-skinned, raven-haired
girls sitting on a beige loveseat. They greeted us with big grins and welcoming
embraces as we sat down on the couch parallel to theirs. Both of my friends
knew them, and after talking for a bit, I learned that they were the birthday
girl’s two best friends. As one proceeded to apply eyeliner and foundation to
the other, they broke down the itinerary of the night for us into karaoke,
dancing, and other stuff, as well as supplying us with the notion that they
wanted the party to be a surprise. We continued to talk about various things
until the birthday girl arrived, in which time another friend, as well as the
parents and the aunt joined us.
Upon notification of her arrival,
my friends and I, in addition to the two girls and the newly arrived friend,
hid in different spots around the living room, with me placing myself behind a
table. Laughing to myself, I found joyous amusement in the fact that I hadn’t
been part of a surprise party in many, many years, yet I reveled in the
youthful sentiment that seeped from the idea itself. As we sprung up, yelling
surprise in two different languages, the birthday girl’s mouth gaped open with
shock and appreciation like I haven’t seen in a long time. Down here, family
events such as birthday parties, reunions, and even simple dinners are treated
with a sense of respect and gratitude—something that we, including myself, have
trampled all over. As we all sat down, her parents produced a silver tray lined
with glasses of fresh peach puree and rum, sending my taste buds into their own
ecstasy that was to be followed by karaoke. Karaoke and I were never friends,
but I was so swept up by the contagious excitement flying around the room, that
I decided to attempt “Promiscuous” by Nelly Furtado. After the karaoke had
subsided, and about 4 more rounds of peach rum drinks had gone around, they
presented the birthday girl with her cake. Adorned with what I assume to be
twenty-four—since this was her newly achieved age, sparkling trick candles and
an edible picture of the birthday girl holding her dog, she hurriedly tried to
blow out each sparkler after the birthday song concluded. After successfully
extinguishing each stubborn sparkler, a cylindrical tube was placed at the top
of the cake, which, when lit, burst into a stream of sparks like a Fourth of
July firework and served as the precursor to a piñata, which literally looked
like a pink papier-mâché ball covered in glossy birthday hats. With quite a bit
of superfluous effort, the piñata was eventually ripped open, spilling its
insides of candy and knick-knacks all over the hardwood floor beneath it. After
the mad-dash to retrieve the candy and disperse colored ribbons about the room,
EDM and dancing ensued. I did my best non-dancing dance moves—stand around, bop
my head like “Night at the Roxbury”, and make a mockery of dance culture while mingling
awkwardly to the groove. The night soon concluded itself around one in the
morning, and after a few good-byes and closing beers, we initiated our journey
back home. I can honestly say that I fully enjoyed every moment of the party
and wouldn’t have asked for a better way to spend my Saturday night. Meeting
new friends, forging fresh connections, and feeling the warmth of family that
so permeates the culture down here was an extraordinary experience and I’m
incredibly thankful I was able to be a part of it.
-Zach
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