When we had been invited a few days ago, we hesitated only because we know very few people in town and didn’t know if the invitation from our neighbors counted. Both Robert and I really wanted to experience some of the authentic culture, yet, we certainly did not wish to step upon any toes. Locals assured us, through Marianne and Tom, that yes, it was an open invitation to the community, and aren’t we now part of the community? So that is how we made our way to the town social building at 9:00 p.m. and joined the slow trickle of incoming guests.
The social is a large cement building that reverberates sound like no tomorrow, sports a massive dance floor (tile, of course) and a hefty stage to boot. Tables and chairs seating about 300 had been set up all around the floor. The turquoise and white color scheme was carried throughout the event from table cloths, centerpieces and column decorations, to the paper lanterns floating from the ceiling over the dance floor. The tall centerpieces were topped with sparkly turquoise sprays and could have been imagined at any wedding in the states, except for a noticeable difference. The base was cradling a bottle of tequila. And next to that was an ice bucket, a shaker of salt, some cups and a big bottle of Sprite. Do it yourself bartending. Gotta love it.
A quincinera is quite a big event for a young girl. It marks the time she leaves her childhood behind (age 15) and becomes a young woman. Ostensibly, it is a chance for her father to announce that she is now of marriage-able age. The cost of a quincinera is roughly equal to that of a wedding. The dresses certainly rivaled a wedding gown in grandeur, and feeding 300 people a sit down dinner, along with all that tequila and the 10 piece band clearly said that this was no ordinary party.
It is customary for the crowd to stay seated until the grand entrance of the quincinera. She makes her way up the center of the room on the arm of a brother, cousin or uncle to be presented to the crowd. And after many speeches attesting to her growth and loveliness, a series of dances begin. Father gets the 1st dance, then brothers, grandfathers and uncles. It seemed to be an endless succession. More speeches, and for this one anyway, one of the quincineras slipped away, removed her ruffles and reentered wearing hip hop clothes worthy of So You Think You Can Dance. She proceeded to do a choreographed routine that was quite impressive. I imagine she had been practicing for years for this moment.
I watched younger girls, still several years away from their coming-of-age, look longingly at the 2 princesses. They envied the attention and obviously looked forward to their own celebrations, though their just budding figures said there was still time to wait, no matter how they tried to speed it up with high heels and party dresses.
Finally, the dance floor was open to everyone. In a town of 1400 people, in what to us might seem like ‘in the middle of nowhere’, you can’t imagine how many really good dancers there were! Truthfully, I was intimidated, and believe me, I don’t intimidate easily when it comes to dancing. Admittedly, the music was ranchera, and the movements different than we’d seen, but the beat was clearly recognizable and easy to follow. We enjoyed watching the couples move gracefully across the floor with an ease that was enviable. When Robert and I joined them the lead singer ended her cancione with a “Ha!’ in our direction, catching my eye and sporting a big smile. We stayed on the floor for a number of dances, but I learned so much from just watching!
Latinas have a wonderful attitude that I admire. No matter her girth, she will don her tight dress and stilettos and walk proudly through the room, strutting her stuff, with the knowledge that she is hot. Period. And when she dances she moves in tandem with her partner allowing him to lead her, showing both her willingness to be dominated and her strength at the same time.
The men moved with equal cat-like grace. No awkward gyrating bodies, only smooth flowing couples gliding across the floor. The machismo shone through most noticeably in the younger crowd. The man would guide his partner solely with one hand placed on the small of her back, the other to dangle at his side in a show of nonchalance. And still they moved smartly and in unison.
There are 2 traditional ceremonies to a quincinera. Similar to the garter-throwing at a wedding, the celebrated now-young-woman throws a doll to a gathering of little girls. It takes place early in the festivities and marks her transition into adulthood and the giving up of toys. The other is ‘the changing of the shoes’, quite later in the evening. (All this time the quincineras had been wearing tennis shoes, though under all those ruffles and I had never even seen them!) At one point the proud papa takes them off her feet and replaces them with high heels and they dance. There is also a cake to rival any wedding, but when we left at 1:00 a.m. the party wasn’t even close to that yet. Things had just started to heat up.
As we headed for the door I noticed that ours was the only table with an empty tequila bottle. The others had barely been touched, although there were many empty beer cans. (I guess Gloria’s, the store across the street did a bang up business last night!) Many people were gathered outside getting some fresh air and preparing for the next round of dancing. The festivities, we were told, would last until dawn. We however, were ready to call it a night. As we walked to our car the darkness and sudden silence engulfed us. We carefully negotiated the dirt roads home, removed our party clothes and gratefully climbed into bed, happy for the experience and just a little more connected to our new home.
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