And honestly it was kind of a bittersweet day. Of all my days on the road, I missed my family and friends the most on June 13. I wondered what sort of crazy party I would have planned back home and all the people I would get to see and celebrate with. I reminisced about my birthday celebration the prior year, which included mechanical bull riding, shots out of a plunger handed to me by a midget, and gangster rapping at the karaoke bar. And that was 29. Surely 30 would be on a whole 'nother level! It was hard not to be a bit bummed. I had just arrived solo into a new city the previous week and only a small handful of people had gotten wind that it was my birthday. But that small handful of people included my host family that I was staying with.
Let's backtrack to the week prior, when I came home one afternoon to find Vilma (Mi Madre en Xela) cooking up something special. The smell of ripe Guatemalan bananas and the whirl of the kitchen-aid mixer filled the air. Intrigued, I made my way to kitchen for some investigation. Vilma was in the zone. Without stopping to acknowledge me, I watched as she meticulously measured out ingredients and added them to the mixer, eyeballing the batter as she went with no recipe in sight. She moved deliberately and without hesitation. Clearly this was not her first rodeo. Maintaining a safe distance, I quietly spectated until there was a break in the action, at which point she explained that it was a friend of her son's birthday and she was making him a banana cake. Mmmm. She then went on to tell me that she was somewhat of a professional cake maker and proudly showed me a book with photos of all of her creations. Amazing. Soon I was hovering directly over her, front and center watching her make magic, and around the time she began whipping up the homemade frosting I decided I had seen enough - I had to tell her. "Vilma...yo tengo un secreto", I whispered over the steady hum of the mixer. After a few seconds she clicked off the mixer and looked up curiously. "Que?", she asked. "Es mi cumpleanos el proxima semana" I whispered back with a grin. "Ahhhhhh que dia??" she asked, with a bit more excitement than I was expecting. Matching her energy, "Jueves!", I said proudly. She fixed her glasses as she quickly glanced up at her calendar and asked "El trece de Junio??" Grinning, I nodded to confirm. Her face lit up. "El dia de Santo Antonio! (a holiday in the Catholic religion) Es lo mismo dia que mi Mama!" she exclaimed as she threw her hand up in the air for a high five. "Si!!??" I said - "Vamos a tener un grande fiesta!"
I couldn't believe it. My birthday was the exact same day as her mother's. We were going to have a heck of a celebration.
The actual day itself was kind of uneventful. I got some happy birthday wishes from a few people at the school which was cool and there were some bombs lit off in the Central Park in celebration of El dia de Santo Antonio, which rocked the city (they don't light fireworks here, they light bombs). We celebrated Vilma's mother's birthday at lunch time which was a lot of fun and I spent the afternoon reading all the emails and facebook messages that I got which was really cool, and one of the highlights of my day.
Finally, it was time to head home for the big celebration. The whole family was there including the other two students, Frank (aka Paco) and Buris, who were also living in the house. Vilma prepared her special tamales which she makes for everyone on their birthday, which were delicious and supposedly good luck. Then, the moment we had all been waiting for had arrived, as the cake made it's long awaited entrance. It was fully decked out with fruit and icing and looked incredible.
Before long the candles were lit and we were singing away! One a side note, the spanish version of the Happy Birthday song "Feliz Cumpleanos" is way longer than ours. Whereas we have one single verse, they have three or four. I'm not sure that all the verses are mandatory, because there were a couple instances where the song had seemingly ended only to have someone break into a whole other verse and everyone join in. The song seemed to build and build, with each verse sung more enthusiastically than the last. It was really quite fun, and the awkwardness that normally lasts 20 seconds in the US lasted forever as the song carried on and on.
Finally the song ended and I quickly blew out the candles as was time to cut into the cake! Or so I thought. "Necesitas morder!" they yelled. "Muerdes, muerdes!". I had no idea what they were getting at, but they were insistent. I figured they meant cut the cake so I grabbed the knife and as the blade inched closer they franticly screamed no. Confused, I looked up as Guillermo, the son, explained necessito morder, as he motioned to take a bite out of the cake. Apparently this is a tradition, and if you don't do it before you cut into the cake, it means you will have bad luck for the whole year, and no way did I want that! So like a good sport I lowered my head down and just as I was about to take a big chomp, my whole face was being smashed down into the cake.
I slowly lifted my head up, disoriented, to the roar of laughter and delight and couldn't help but smile. They got me. Really really good. And in that moment, as the laughter carried on followed by hugs and high fives, smiling ear to ear beneath a layer of frosting, I thought to myself - this is a really special birthday.
So a birthday that was a somewhat bittersweet, ended on a very sweet note - literally, with a celebration that I will never forget.
And then the Heat pulled out a game 4 victory.
Feliz Cumpleanos a mi!
P.S. - Somewhere out there, there is footage of all of this, and as soon as I get it I will post it up!
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