“Be like a pineapple. Stand tall, wear a crown, and be sweet on the inside”
--- Katherine Gaskin
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MY TWENTIETH BIRTHDAY
It was my twentieth birthday before I knew it, the second and the last whilst a full-time missionary in Mexico which was on September 25, 2015. I felt old. I looked in the mirror every day and I could see a progressive change. The canícula had taken its toll on all of us bronzing us which was noticeable by the fierce farmer's tans around our necks and arms. I faced a thinner portrait in the mirror, bags under my eyes. I wouldn't say that I was in poor health, on the contrary, I felt strong and wise, but older. I don’t know how some missionaries gained weight on the mission; I had opposite theories as to why. I lost weight walking and sweating. I questioned if the Elders who gained weight were slacking off or maybe just the opposite, maybe they were working smarter than we were. (See "Yard Work, Hard Work, Smart Work")
Elder Brogan and Elder Urias spread the news that my birthday was coming up. It fell on a Friday. J. and T. invited me over to celebrate with them (See "Hermanas de las Chamoyadas"). A Chamoyada was as good a present I could ask since I never ask for anything. Elder Ortega, who was one of our Zone Leaders, came with us for the day on intercambios and he was all for sharing my birthday spoils. J. and T. surprised me by doing one better than Chamoyadas by making me a “Piña Loca” (Pee-nyah-Loh-kah) which means, "Crazy pineapple". They offered them on their menu but I don’t know if they sold many at 50 pesos each as compared to the 10-peso Chamoyada; I never thought to ask about it. They took a pineapple, hollowed it out, filled it with gummies and mango, drizzled it with sweetened chamoy syrup, and draped the pineapple on it as you see on cocktails. It was amazing! They sank a long toothpick in it and lit the tip aflame to form a makeshift wooden candle. Different from the traditional birthday cake I was used to, it made it all the more special. As always, I happily shared my spoils with Elder Brogan, Elder Urias, and Elder Ortega even though they insisted I eat most of it myself.
At the end of the day, we didn't usually have anything special for dinner, never a proper meal, but that night, we went down the street by the Bodega Aurrera and bought some Papa John's pizza and apple-flavored soda to wash it down. I think it was later than we were supposed to be out, but Elder Ortega assumed responsibility for it as our Zone Leader to end my birthday on a high note.
That Sunday, on September 27, 2015, we went to Obispo Flores’ house as always. I didn’t expect anything since my birthday had come and gone but they surprised me with a chocolate birthday cake. They really didn't have to, but it was sweet on them. They stuck a “5” candle in it because they didn’t have a “20”. After I made my wish and blew it out, they continued to relight it three more times and I blew it out three more times until I had the full “20” effect.
They sang Happy Birthday in English and I expect to get my face dunked into the cake, as per Mexican tradition, but Elder Brogan (our District Leader; see "Mission Administration") told us that President Morales had made a new rule prohibiting it. Apparently, there was too much risk involved in smashing one’s head into stuff. Go figures! Just the same they chanted, “Mordida”, and I went in for a quick nibble off the corner just in case they were pulling a fast one on me (See "Happy Birthday"). But no! I guess he was telling the truth! Elder Brogan started divvying up the cake with a spatula, scooped some frosting off of it, and proceeded to dab it onto my face. Once I realized what he was doing, I didn’t resist. It was a clever compromise. All the messy satisfaction without the danger or the disobedience. I felt among family. I’d acclimated to Mexico. I felt Mexican.
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