Showing posts with label clothes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label clothes. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Monday, September 15, 2008
feliz quince
Today was the Guatemalan Independence Day, so I had the day off from work and took part in some of the festivities. Patriotic expression always leaves me in an awkward position, here in the Land of the Eternal Spring. I never know what to do when I go to a school assembly or a government function and everyone says the pledge to their flag (which involves pledging eternal loyalty until death) or sings the national anthem (which truly seems eternal). I have decided on standing, but not saluting or saying the words during these uncomfortable moments.
Guatemaltecos celebrate with bombas, extremely loud firecrackers, beauty pageants, parades and constant marimba music.
I made the mistake once of getting up and dancing like an idiot to the marimbas once when my family asked me to. Now every five minutes they say "Dance, Emily, dance!" I have the sneaking suspicion that they are laughing at me and not with me.
But the best moment of the day was when I saw a guy wearing a t-shirt that read "PROUD TO BE AN AMERICAN: 1776." There's a phenomenon here called ropa americana, in which your thrift store rejects get sent South of the border to be sold for pennies in a market called the paca. The fact that a majority of Guatemalans can't read what they are wearing often results in hilarity. For example, the muscular construction worker sporting "There are only two types of girls in the world: Alpha Chis and those who wish they were!" across his chest.
Or consider the surly teenager in a navy hoodie with a nautical theme that said "I have scurvy."
Then there are the little old ladies who wear t-shirts with sexually provocative messages, or the sweatshirt with a pair of shackles on it that reads "Jesus is my ball and chain."
I once had to supress a loud guffaw when I realized my host father was wearing a sweatshirt from the Limited, too, a clothing store for preadolescent girls.
But there's something just priceless about a guy wearing a Fourth of July shirt on the 15th of September.
Even better than the guy wearing the shirt that said "Property of the USA."
Guatemaltecos celebrate with bombas, extremely loud firecrackers, beauty pageants, parades and constant marimba music.
I made the mistake once of getting up and dancing like an idiot to the marimbas once when my family asked me to. Now every five minutes they say "Dance, Emily, dance!" I have the sneaking suspicion that they are laughing at me and not with me.
But the best moment of the day was when I saw a guy wearing a t-shirt that read "PROUD TO BE AN AMERICAN: 1776." There's a phenomenon here called ropa americana, in which your thrift store rejects get sent South of the border to be sold for pennies in a market called the paca. The fact that a majority of Guatemalans can't read what they are wearing often results in hilarity. For example, the muscular construction worker sporting "There are only two types of girls in the world: Alpha Chis and those who wish they were!" across his chest.
Or consider the surly teenager in a navy hoodie with a nautical theme that said "I have scurvy."
Then there are the little old ladies who wear t-shirts with sexually provocative messages, or the sweatshirt with a pair of shackles on it that reads "Jesus is my ball and chain."
I once had to supress a loud guffaw when I realized my host father was wearing a sweatshirt from the Limited, too, a clothing store for preadolescent girls.
But there's something just priceless about a guy wearing a Fourth of July shirt on the 15th of September.
Even better than the guy wearing the shirt that said "Property of the USA."
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