A Different Approach to Christmas Eve

On the morning of Christmas eve I found myself waiting at an airport in La Paz, with a couple I had met only the night before, for my coworker to arrive from the States. The parade of people coming past us from his flight had dwindled to just a hand few of passengers when he finally came walking out. We had started to believe he was stopped at customs because of all the gifts he was bringing into the country for his family.

Fernando had graciously offered to meet me halfway through my journey and invited me to spend the holidays with his family in the southern Bolivian city of Tarija. I had been eagerly awaiting this part of my trip since he had invited me months before I left. I knew the holidays were going to be tough without my family, so being with any family would help make them pass a bit easier. Little did I know how much a part of the family I would feel during this Christmas.

We checked our flights on to Tarija for later that day to make sure we were still good to go. Okay, Fernando checked them. He´s the one that speaks fluent Spanish. His uncle picked us up a short time later and drove us (and all our luggage) to his house in La Paz. At the house I met Fernando´s grandfather and aunt, as well as a few cousins. We had been invited to lunch and I was pleased to find we were getting a full-on home cooked meal. To start it out, there a toast with Singani (the traditional liquor drink of Bolivia. We moved on to the dinner table and out came the courses. I was completely full by the time dessert (a rum ice cream) arrived. This would become a ritual when eating with Fernando´s family. Eating until I couldn´t move. After lunch it was time to catch our flight to La Paz. We said our goodbyes as our taxi waited outside. The family told me I was invited back any time. I promised to take them up on their offer.

I don´t know if it was the altitude or the Singani, but the entire plane ride to Tarija had me feeling ill. I didn´t want to talk, I didn´t want to sleep, I didn´t want to do anything. I just wanted off that plane. The turbulance added to my misery. When we landed in Tarija 90 minutes later I bounded from the plane. The temperature was much warmer as Tarija is at a much lower elevation than La Paz. This I was looking forward to.

When we got our bags and walked to the waiting area we found Fernando´s entire family waiting for us. Grandpa (Papito), uncles, aunts, cousins; everyone that was staying in the house with us. Hugs and introductions all around and then pile into an SUV bound for home. Everyone staying in the house was from La Paz and had made the trip down by car the days before to spend the holidays with Papito. The man is like the Godfather of Tarija. The entire time I was there people were dropping by to pay their respects. And the reverence for this man was incredible. He seemed to deserve every bit of it. A man of few words, when he spoke everyone came to attention.

At the house Fernando and I were given one of the main bedrooms where we unpacked and settled. I was quickly ushered out to formally meet everyone. Immediately wine was offered up. I was taught te invito (I invite you) and told whenever some one says this to another person, that person has to follow up a drink of the same amount taken before the glass is handed off. The phrase was repeated all night and throughout my time in Tarija. By dinner time I was already tipsy. Tarija is wine country and the people of the area are proud of their wine (from the highest vineyards in the world). They are only to eager to share their wine. And Christmas eve was no exception.

Dinner was a three meat soup with large chuncks of pork, chicken and beef. A fork and knife were set with the spoon in order to cut up the meat from the soup. The portions were large. I went back for seconds anyway. It was delicious. There were toasts throughout the night. As well as many more te invitos. As midnight approached the frequency of exploding fireworks in the streets increased. And at midnight Papito offered a toast with champagne. Everyone raised their glasses and Christmas was ushered in. In the nativity scene in the house hallway, baby Jesus was placed in the previously empty manger and prayers were said. The youngest of the cousins was given his Christmas presents: including a Wii and games, which we took turns playing into the night.

Belly full and slightly inebriated, I finally turned in around 2:30am. Not exactly how I have celebrated Christmas eve in the past. But a welcome experience during my first holidays without my family.

For pictures of my Christmas in Tarija, and my entire time there, follow this link:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/15233918@N00/sets/72157603709649737/