An Año Nuevo

I know I make it sound like living here is puppy dogs and sunshine — which most of the time is surprisingly accurate — but there are times when the cultural differences are difficult to swallow.

New Year's Eve-Day was one of those times.

Año Nuevo is a major holiday for Peruvians, and as such is accompanied by a lot of colorful traditions. For example, everyone wears yellow for luck, eats 12 grapes while making 12 wishes, and burns man-sized stuffed dolls called muñecos at midnight as a way of starting the new year fresh. Some people even run along the streets with a suitcase in hopes of a big trip the following year. But like any Peruvian holiday, the night rounds out with a long night of drinking and dancing.

For those of you who don't know me, I don't drink. And my diligent sobriety is something not well understood here — a lack of understanding made only worse by increased amounts of alcohol. Add on impossibly loud music and the ubiquitous Blonde Foreigner Syndrome* (constant stares and/or requests to dance), I'm in for a rough night.

But wanting to experience a Peruvian New Year (as well as knocking off Numero Uno on my list of resolutions), I stuck it out until 5 a.m.

The night went a little something like this:

Knowing full well that alcohol in any culture gets people a little "handsy," I made it a rule to have my feet hurt conveniently right around the time people started slurring their speech, so as to decline any dance requests. I would smile, say my apologies, and turn back to some type of conversation, ignoring their persistence and continuing to talk. The bad thing is that as the volume went up, a person's level of speech clarity would just plummet. After a while, I literally didn't understand a word anyone said to me (in any language) and had to shout "Lo siento" at the top of my lungs repeatedly while simultaneously shaking my head until they just eventually stopped trying to talk to me altogether. I left irritated, with sore feet and a hoarse voice.
It was all very taxing.

Thankfully, there was almost always someone who stepped in on a metaphorical shining steed, saving me from the borrachos* and winning every ounce of my gratitude.

But still, I think that will be my first and last time amanecer-ing. I'm chalking it up as a cultural experience, but the real lesson is that nothing good ever happens after midnight.

Oh, well ... One resolution down.

A muñeco

*borrachos = drunk people