As the days slip by in St Cristobal, our lives become more and more in sync with the rest of the population. Lunch comes at four o clock, and dinner is a snack after the kids have gone to bed. A good day involves a trip down the walking street, a drink in a cafe and at least one visit to a friend that stretches to epic proportions.
I have given up trying to manage what's going on (hard for a control freak like me). I barely intervene when Clover is offered a lollipop or two (she has no teeth, it's hardly going to ruin them) or when Daisy is given yet another sugary soft drink - though I do draw the line at Coca Cola. We have a whole set of photos that I should label 'not for NCT' as I feel I will be ostracised forever if the local mums ever get hold of them.
I save my protests for really important occasions, such as when Daisy is seated on a wobbly chair balanced on another chair above a fire, or when Clover is given a chilli. I suspect I probably come across as 'overprotective mum' but really I feel I am being quite lax.
The kids seem to be thriving on it. Daisy is becoming more Mexican by the day, especially now Mari has given her a rather drastic haircut. She resembles a Lacandon Indian (albeit a very pale one). The Lacandones come from deep in the jungle, and were the last of the Mayan tribes to remain untouched by civilisation. Daisy also remains untouched by civilisation, so perhaps the haircut is a good clue. Clover's 'mummy's girl' phase seems to be ending, so she's now spending plenty of time touring round other people's kitchens, serving in Mari's shop, etc.
Today Daisy learnt to tortillear, and I learnt that there really is a verb that means 'to make tortillas'. We were visiting a family from church. They're an indigenous family that live in the city, and the Mum was making tortillas by hand over a fire when we got to the house (we arrived at one, for lunch, but it was 4:30 before we actually ate). It was impressive to see the tortillas being made, and they tasted fantastic. Daisy's efforts were a bit doughy, but she had lots of fun.
Meanwhile, I've been stretching my Spanish to the limit, at a special Valentine's themed women's evening at the Baptist church. I'm not good at biblical anagrams at the best of times, and when Adam is spelt ADAN, and Jerusalem ends in an 'N' I don't stand a chance.
I also fell down on my choice of gift. We all had to bring a cup with some sweets in it as a present for another lady in the group. I didn't realise that this was a special Valentine's thing, which is why the poor girl who got my gift ended up with a Christmas cup by mistake (well, I thought it looked nice). I comfort myself with the fact that cultural confusion is inevitable - Paul once brought our friend Mariet a large armful of the special flowers they use for the dead here. She was quite startled.
We're off to the beach tomorrow morning, for Clover's first taste of sun, sand and prawn empanadas. I'll be keeping the coconut and gin cocktails away from her though. Even I'm not that laid back.
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