This weekend Chris, Molly, and I went to one of my former students' Quince Anos celebration.  It was lovely to see and we had such a good time with the family. 

After the church service there was a reception at the Shrine Club in Winterville.  I was so excited when we walked in and saw authentic mexican appetizers of chips, salsa, and beans on the table.  I just KNEW we were going to have a yummy yummy dinner.  As we were waiting, one of the hispanic teenagers at our table ate a bite of the salsa and she immediately flushed and said, "Wow, that's hot!  I'm used to hot stuff--but that's warm!"  Chris took some bites and agreed it was spicy.  After another 30 minutes or so while we were waiting for our food I decided to try a bit of the salsa.  I had not idea that as I was biting into the salsa, they began the prayer for the food. 

I didn't care that the prayer was in spanish--all I knew is that flames began crawling across my tongue and mouth and there was NOTHING I could do about it until they completed the prayer.  Our family was one of 3 non-hispanic families who were invited to the event and we were trying to mind our p's and q's and not accidently offend anyone with our ignorance.  I knew I couldn't gasp and cough and sputter and gulp water down while they were giving the blessing.  It seemed like an eternity and I had no idea if the person asking the blessing was winding it up with catch phrases like, "And as we prepare to eat blah blah bless the hands that prepared this meal blah blah" because I have never had one spanish class in my life.  I know words from Sesame Street and Dora, but that's all.  I was dying--my eyes were watering and my face was soooo hot.  After an eternity, everyone finally said, "Amen!" and I immediately began the cough and sputter.  My whole table was laughing at me (including the minister) but I really didn't care because I finally got relief! 

And, we didn't have any mexican food after all.  Just some dry chicken and flavorless potatoes--old white people food.  Sigh.

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