I’m no longer startled at the sound of someone yelling at the top of their lungs or blowing a horn in the street at strange hours of the day. They are pushcart vendors, and they’re probably selling something delicious. It’s like hearing the ice cream man coming.
Rather than roll my eyes in protest or try to beat them to it, I wait for guys to open my car door, and I expect them to walk down the sidewalk between me and the street. What’s more, I’ve found I actually like it. The tiny I-am-woman-hear-me-roar, need-to-assert-myself impulse I used to feel in these situations is gone. I’m happily soaking up chivalry.
I know the order of stops on the pesero bus, and on my nearest line of the metro. I know to tip waiters but not cab drivers. I know the most common slang words and gestures, and cuss words. I know where they make the best agua de horchata, my current guilty pleasure of choice. I know what NOT to eat, even if everyone around me can stomach it. I know what hours of the night I can catch a bus, and when I will be shit out of luck. (Luckily I did not learn this the hard way.)
And I can give basic instructions on concepts that were once totally foreign. For example, how to make tamales oaxaqueños. Enjoy!
Step 1: Slap a handful of maza onto a banana leaf (or in other cases, boiled corn husk) and flatten into a patty.
Step 2: Add a large spoonful of salsa verde - made of green tomatoes, chiles, and love... or something like that. Sometimes the sauce is red, but everyone prefers green.
Step #: Add chicken, bone and all. It didn't look like she cooked the meat beforehand, but some online recipes say you should. Sergio tells me pre-cooking is optional with chicken, but not with other meats.
Step #: Fold.
Step #: Steam for about an hour, and they'll be ready to serve!
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