Quiere un nino?

While all the rest of you were probably eating hot dogs and drinking beer this past Memorial Day weekend, I have been in the land of Mamas. It was Nicaraguan Mother's Day and just like good old Memorial day in the states its a three day weekend. Anything that even closely resembles a holiday here gets a day off work. When the big ones roll around its much more time. Easter, for example, gets you a week of relaxation. And the entire country pretty much shuts down from the end of November to mid January for Christmas. Ridiculous. Anyways, I went into Ocotal on Friday night and Saturday day, and realized that Mothers Day here could have a different name entirely. Rotisserie chicken day! They were everywhere. Grocery stores, pulperias, the side of the street. I have never seen so many in one place.

I came home Saturday afternoon and the talk to the town was a pueblo-wide fiesta that was happening that night. I decided to go with my host sister and brother and check it out. I was wearing jeans and a tank top, she was wearing a very fancy dress with sparkle makeup covering her chest and eyes. She fit in more than I did. The night was going pretty well. Everyone was dancing, lots of people were laughing at my inability to bootyshake. Then, BOOM. FIGHT! Two bolos started fighting, crashed into a table and slammed into a speaker. One had walked away with what looked like a broken nose. I advised him to the centro de salud. If only I had an alcoholism pamphlet handy. The party died down pretty quickly after that.

The following day was the actual "Dia de los Madres". All of Dona Martha's 74 children were in attendance. It wasn't exactly that many but she does have a ton of kids. We baked a cake. It was a lovely time. Another guest at our little celebration was Dona Marthas mother. A very old woman, yet she arrived with a small child in tow. We were chatting, and I asked who the child was, where were the parents, ect. She was speaking very quickly, so I had hard time getting everything she was telling me but the gist was that she was caring for the boy. She then, in much slower and clearer Spanish, asked me if i had any interest in adopting. Slightly stunned, I asked her to repeat herself and she once again said "would you like to adopt him? you know bring him with you to the states." Flabbergasted, I tried to politely explain that no, I am not in the market for a young Nicaraguan child. I am too young and definitely not mature enough for a baby.
"What about your mother?" she counters.
"Excuse me?"
"Your mother! Your mother in the United States! Would she like to adopt a baby?"
"I dont think shes really interested in adopting either."
I then started to explain the normal range of child rearing in the states. How I am too young for children, and my mom has already raised her two and wouldn't really want to start all over. The grandmother walked away while I was mid-sentence. I dont think she wanted to be my friend.

That ended my Mother's Day celebration. I couldnt risk more random relative trying to pan their children off on me or my family so I went to bed. It was 730.