Tortillas de Chicago!

So things around here have been a little hectic. There is a delegation in town from beloved Bucknell University. They brought down some awesome chemistry glass beakers, graduated cylinders and pipettes for me. I am cleaning the green farmacia and rearranging the room because tomorrow the Foundation is having a huge celebration for the completion of the second building at the clinic (my room is located in this building). So I will also be giving tours and talks (and handing out sample syrups and teas) all day to the people who come and celebrate.
Outside of work the family time has been really nice. Sarah and I hang out over at the venta more and more. We were a little afraid at first, everyone is always over there speaking FAST spanish and doing their thing. Have I explained the venta? I think so, but for clarification: the venta is across the street from la casa mia. It is a pulperia (small shop where you can buy everything from gaseosa (soda) to azucar (sugar) to Qtips) and the tortilleria. The Silvas live here. The Silvas are actually a few families mashed together, so much that I am still trying to figure out all the different relations and names. At least three small families make up the Silvas and all the barrio kids we hang out with are Silvas. Anyway, the venta is where it is at.
Yesterday we got home a little early (thanks to Rogelio for the ride home) and went to the venta. Deyring (pronounced "dating") is the twelve year old we hang out with. She is studying English is school so I often help her with her homework. She is really patient with our spanish and generally nice to hang out with. Anyway, Deyring was in the venta making tortillas. Seeing this as a golden opportunity Sarah whipped out her video camera and started filming. Seeing a different golden opportunity, Deyring decided it was time for one of us to learn the craft. I was handed a blob of Maseca dough and shown how to do it. Let me be the first to say that the making of tortillas is an art form. You need rhythm. You also need small stubby monkey hands. I found out my hands were perfect for the job, but my rhythm a little off. The trick is to guide the flattening edges with the right hand while pounding/moving the dough with the left hand. Deyring and Jasmina can make a perfect tortilla in about 8 seconds. My tortillas took about 3 minutes to be "okay." And by okay I mean Deyring would fix my crooked edges and get it a bit flatter. It was getting to be dinner time and slowly everyone in the barrio came with a plate to buy their tortillas for a cordoba each. As each person came in Jasmina would announce
"Tortillas regular, un peso. Tortillas grande, dos pesos. Tortillas de Chicago, triente pesos. Ella es de Chicago. Tortillas de Chicago! Esta practicando."
Everyone would look at me and smile and say oh? Chicago? How very nice. Of course the tortillas I made were not actually 30 cords, but it got the point across that I was a gringa and I was learning the art of the tortilla.
I have been trying to incorporate the other ways of the Nicas into my life as well. It is not out of the ordinary for a Nica to wear nice clothes to work, change into old clothes when they get to work, and then change back into the nice clothes at the end of the day. This is so they always look their best during the time when they actually see people. So I have doing the same thing. Sarah says I am trying to a Nica, and I said I think I have always tried to be Anica. Yes, we are funny. Anyway, my transformation into a Nica is slow but sure. Yesterday the cubano Raul asked if I had latino roots because I did not look norteamericana. And then during the Bucknell orientation to the farmacia at the clinic, I spoke up to say (in English) that there would not be any herbal cough syrup this week and one of the leaders looked at me in astonishment and said "You're english is so good!" I smiled and left very quickly leaving Sarah bent over laughing.
What can I say?