Quinceñera

I want to be a Latin girl about to turn 15. And really, I’m only half-kidding.

In many Latin American countries a girl’s 15 birthday (called her quinceñera) is a right of passage into womanhood. It’s a cultural and religious tradition often times celebrated more extravagantly than any other event in the girl’s life. This past Saturday one of the more active and well-known families in my community celebrated their twin daughters’ qinceñera. I’m pretty sure this will go down as the party of my two year service in the Peace Corps.

First, the preparations. Every Saturday for the past two months, the twins and their friends whom they had chosen to be part of the ‘court of honor’ have received dance lessons. When Nathalia was here visiting me she and I went to one of these lessons. I figured I could learn some basic dance steps. Oh no. These lessons aren’t to teach basic steps but rather to practice a choreographed, hour-long show that the twins and their 20 chosen friends would perform at the quinceñera. The choreographer was hired from the nearby pueblo and he was a sleazy twenty-something man who took himself a little too seriously and acted a little too cool.

About two weeks before the festivities, the twins walked around the entire community passing out invitations. The invitation was a very pretty two page announcement complete with a list of some 40 contributors, the 20 members of the ‘court of honor’, the 2 flower girls, the 2 girls in charge of passing out roses, the 2 girls in charge of confetti, and the two priests who oversaw the religious ceremony—yes, there were two priests. Thinking back, I might be the only person who was not mentioned on the invitation. Maybe my community integration isn’t as great as I had thought.

At 2:30 the Mass began. It was basically a normal mass with a little bit of an extra sermon on the importance of the quinceñera: that the girls were entering womanhood and must maintain their faith and support to the church, must make responsible and mature choices under God’s guidance, etc.

After mass the party was moved to the family’s house. Let me try to set the scene because that truly is the most amazing aspect of the whole party. Part of a field next to the house was cleared out months ago to make room for the party. Hundreds of plastic chairs and tables had been rented and decorated. A discomovil (mobile disco) had been contracted to provide music and entertainment. The discomovil consists two DJs in charge of music, a huge tent equipped with strobe lights, disco lights, speakers and a movie theatre sized screen and projector to show photos and movies. From the dance floor you felt that you were in a club except for the fact that the dance floor was dirt. The cake was three levels and had a fountain in the middle. The oldest guest at the party was a toothless 90 year old man who doesn’t talk much but laughs jovially at just about anything. The youngest guest was a 9 month old girl who is also toothless and also doesn’t talk much, but she doesn’t laugh jovially very often at all. I like the old man more.

I felt as though I were at a bar mitzvah or wedding in the states except for the fact that there were cornfields on two sides of the party a chicken coup on one side and an adobe house on the fourth side. On the other side of the adobe house you could hear cows mooing. Also, half the male guests had machetes attached to their belts. Yeah, I guess you don’t really see that at bar mitzvahs in the states.

At about 4, the twins made their grand entrance, accompanied by their brother who was visiting from the states, their court of honor, their flower girls, and of course the sleazy choreographer. The procession went immediately to the dance floor where they presented the first half of their choreographed dances. It was basically two dances, one done to Strauss’s Blue Danube Waltz and the other done to some Latin singer repeatedly crooning the word quinceñera in various pitches and volumes. The two dances and the presentation of presents (a ton of presents) took about an hour, and then food was served. All 300 or so guests received a plate of chicken, rice, salad, tortillas, and a soda that was prepared and served by the family and friends. Amazing really.

After dinner, the real party began. The male half of the court of honor had changed from their shirt and jackets into black t-shirts which could only mean one thing: it was time for ‘el mix’ (and yes, the second half of the choreographed dance really was called ‘el mix.’) ‘El mix’ was a exactly what its name advertises, a mix of salsa, ranchera, cumbia, hip-hop and traditional Salvadoran dances. It was amazing.

Once the dancing began, it took me only about 15 minutes before I was on the dance floor. After the last party (a wedding about 2 months ago) I had promised the sisters of a good friend of mine that I would dance with them at the next party. They didn’t forget and I couldn’t back down. We danced mainly in a big group for about an hour or so and I actually enjoyed myself (I know, I can’t believe it either.) Over the course of the night I danced with girls ranging in age from 8 to 50. It was ridiculous and great all at the same time.

At about 8pm it started to pour. At first everyone just crowded under the tent and onto the dance floor. After about 10 minutes of rain a small river or water and mud was running through the dance floor and only the hardcore dancers remained—I was not one of them. I went inside the house and hung out with the family and friends.

I finally left the part around 9:30 or so. I heard the music stop around 10:30. I heard the people drinking out in front of my house leave or pass out around 12. Good times.