SUNDAY only means one thing in San Cristobal, and that is a trip to church. The Baptist church is on the edge of town, next to the new cinema (times do change!) and supermarket.
It’s a long service, so I’m secretly glad that we got the time wrong, turning up for a half nine start at half past ten – just in time for the “birthday song” that the congregation sings to those who were born in that week,
Everyone dresses up for church in Mexico, except us, it seems, and as well as being the only people there in jeans, we are also extraordinarily tall. That’s a new experience for someone of five foot four.
I confess to nearly falling asleep during the sermon, which probably would have been more interesting if I could understand one word in three. I think it was about being grateful to God, and also being grateful to your wife when she washes your clothes.
That underlines for me the difference between home and here. Paul says the preacher is very enlightened to talk about thanking one’s wife for doing the clothes washing. I wonder why he isn’t washing them himself.
After church we kiss large numbers of people on both cheeks and listen to more people asking why Daisy hasn’t had her ears pierced. Then we go for lunch with more friends. Conchita lives with her huge extended family on one street. They are in and out of each other’s houses all the time, and there are at least 15 for lunch. Much of the Spanish flies over my head, but I manage to stumble over a few words, and Daisy plays happily with her octopus toy (Senor Pulpo, as he has now been renamed).
It is good to meet with someone else with a young baby. Mariet’s son, Pablo (named after Paul!) is a month older than Daisy. She knows of a paediatrician who will weigh Daisy for us, so we can check she is growing.
Seeing her breastfeeding also makes me less self-conscious about doing it myself. Mexican women do breastfeed, but Pablo, like many babies, is topped up with formula milk. He looks huge beside Daisy, and is clearly quite used to being carried around by the many other girls who live in the street. It must be quite a nice life having the whole extended family around like that.
Mariet has started a cake making business, despite being at home with two children, which I am sure is only possible
3 comments:
Wow you can really write Rosie! I can see how you got that torygraph job. Sounds like the three of you are having a Most Excellent Adventure. Good luck over there, and keep up the blogging, I'm enjoying it!
Oh Rosie - how exciting for you all! Relax, take it all in your stride and beware the rogue ear piercers!!!! It all sounds muy interessante!! Enjoy it all!!! Abrazos y besos, Kate x
keep the blogging up - very much enjoyed reading about your adventure. Glad there are more people joining my capaign to get Daisys ears pierced - it's all the rage in horley!
big kisses to daisy, don't let anyone feed her (or you) sheeps intestine.
bel xxxxx
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