Pablo and I went to eat pebre tonight. It’s very delicious. A combination of tomato, coriander, onion, garlic, chili and capsicum, chopped up finely and served with bread. Every restaurant gives you pebro and bread when you order your meal. It’s yum.
We learnt to make it at school tonight, and we ate it in the garden of the school, washed down with mulled red wine spiced with orange. It’s a tradition – and who are we not to honour tradition!
Along with the food (probably a form of onces – the meal that is eaten at around 5pm in between lunch and supper) we learnt another dance. This time is was the flirting dance, how the man and woman show their desire for each other.
That’s where Pablo comes in.
In school today we were learning how to say the letters of the alphabet in Spanish. It’s very different from the English pronunciation and until you get it right, it’s really hard to pronounce the words. So, there we were, the two of us…ah, beh, se, day, e, efe, ga, atchay, ee, hota, kay…etc….and our professor says he wants us to spell our names.
Phyllis got through the P and the H and at the Y (pronounced Agriego) she decided that from hence forth she’ll be known as Pablo.
Good thing really. Tonight, at the dancing lesson, she was the man. And a fine partner she was too – stamping her feet in a very manly way and holidng her handkerchief in a macho way above her head (before she retired with a sore hip).
We think the youngsters have learnt a thing or two from us oldies (we are, on average around 30 years older that the average age!) but I could be imagining that.
What I really I think what the other students think they are learning is what how two aging lesbians dance.
We haven’t the heart to tell them we’re straight.
I'm busy working on my blog posts. Watch this space!