Quince

It's the Spanish word for fifteen (15) and in Paraguay is how this "coming of age" birthday is referred to. It's the same as the quinceneria that other Latin American countries celebrate, just with a shorter name. And on Saturday night, Brandon and I had the opportunity to attend this special celebration for one of the students on campus.

It was amazing and I wish I had more pictures to share with you, but there were already three photographers taking pictures of the event and I didn't feel right contributing to the paparazzi atmosphere. Instead, I sat back and enjoyed the evening, trying to remember as many details as possible to describe to you in this post.

When you first walked into the room, there was a giant waterfall set up directly ahead, forcing you to the left or the right. To the left was the "kid" section of the room, complete with couches and ottomans, high tables and bar stools. Students from school (and Sara's friends from church) lounged on the couches and hopped from table to table, socializing and giggling all the while. The boys wore slacks, button-up shirts and ties, and some even topped off the look with a blazer. The girls strapped on high heels and short party dresses, many of them strapless. Think homecoming.

(Our friends Elder & Jill who sat with us at the event)

To the right of the entrance was the adult section, where we were banished for most of the evening. It was set up in traditional banquet manner: white linens, mirrored centerpieces (with live fish in bowls, just like at our wedding!), several sets of silverware and more glasses than necessary. The men were outfitted similarly to the boys, minus the awkwardness, while the women's dresses were longer with straps, but still elegant like the girls'.

The entire room was transformed into an underwater scene by huge sheer curtains that hung from PVC pipe framing. It wove it's way across the entire length of the room, with cut outs of fish and transparent spheres - little air bubbles - hung with fish line. On the back side of the water feature, the adults and kids were further separated by a dance floor and an elevated head table with seats for three - the guest of honor and her parents. The arrangement worked well and allowed everyone to see the stage and the events taking place, without being disturbed by "them" on the other side of the room.

The evening started with a father-daughter dance (that commenced nearly an hour and a half after the start time advertised on the invitation). After a few minutes, the grandfathers cut in to dance with the birthday girl, while the grandmothers took over dancing with the dad. The party director, clipboard in tow, then rallied the young boys to also take their turn dancing with Sara. It was like watching a dollar dance, minus the dollars. The last boy to dance with Sara was her brother, which elicited oh's and ah's from the adults and spontaneous applause when they were finished.

It was then time for food. While the young'ns gorged themselves on pizza, hamburgers, and fries, the adults had an elegant spread of hors d'oeuvres and main dishes to sample. Martini glasses hosted sliced green apples with a lime glaze and cheese dip filled delicate dishes with a single strip of bread balanced within. Meats (vacio y pollo con jamon) simmered in chafing dishes aside platters of potato and pasta dishes.

While everyone finished their meals, Sara's pastor served as Master of Ceremonies for the event, explaining the importance of the night in the young lady's life. He also called on several students and adults who had prepared blessings for Sara. As she sat center behind the head table, friends, family and teachers took turns reciting and/or reading blessings for the young girl. The final blessings were from her parents and it was hard not to tear up as her dad got misty eyed talking to his little girl.

The last formal event of the night was the singing of happy birthday. Once the last note was sung, the kids descended like vultures on a spread of American candy the family had brought back from a recent trip from the states. Glass vases were filled with m & m's, sweedish fish, and air heads. Fish bowls overflowed with Jolly Ranchers and Hershey's Mini Candy Bars - Milk Chocolate, Dark Chocolate, Crunch and Mr. Goodbar. In all, there was over 70 pounds, yes, SEVENTY POUNDS, of candy to be divided by the teens. But don't worry, we swooped on the table, too, and used my purse as our trick-or-treat bag. We're doing our best to ration out our portion and make it last. So far so good.

It was a great night and we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. BUT we found out that, next to a quince, the FIRST birthday in a child's life is of utmost importance. Time to get to work . . .

International Dinner

After the Parade of Nations event that took place during the day last Friday, ACA hosted an international dinner to celebrate all of the countries represented by the students and staff at the school. It also serves as the main fundraiser for PTA.

The days leading up to the event found the maintenance workers working hard on the field, building a stage, hanging a wide assortment of flags around the lower basketball court, and setting up tables.

At one point I walked by and saw one worker, Ruben, working on the stage while the other three workers stood under a tree talking. I asked him (in Spanish) why he was alone and if the other's weren't working today. He just laughed, probably at how bad my Spanish was. The next day he had help on the stage and I commented that he wasn't alone today and it elicited another chuckle. Good times.

The night itself was quite enjoyable. Every family brought traditional food representing their home country for the event (enough for 40 people, divided into two dishes). The main countries (Paraguay, United States, and Korea) had their own tables, and all "others" (Brazilian, Taiwanese, and other South American countries) were lumped together on the "international" table. After being dismissed by table to get plates of food, it was a free-for-all in terms of second (and third) helpings, until most platters were all but licked clean.

Entertainment for the night consisted of three acts, again from the three main countries represented by the student population. The Korean students created a mini-orchestra and performed two songs, a hymn and a Korean ballad.

The Paraguayan students worked together in their Spanish class on a dance number. Well, I can't exactly say it was the "Paraguayan" act because many of the students in the act were from other countries. It was neat, though, in that they all wore jeans and white shirts, then tied ribbons around their wrists in the colors of their home countries. It was also funny to watch some of the boys who had been strategically placed in the back rows.

The Americans were represented by three students - Wesley, Ashley, and Jessica. They are siblings (and the children of the Academic Director) who have all been blessed with incredible voices. They performed an a cappella number in beautiful harmony.

There were nearly 500 people at the event which means the PTA should have earned around $3,000 (25,000 Guarani a person, times 500 people, divided by 4,000 - a close approximation to the current exchange rate), minus the expense of the chairs, tables, place settings, and linens for the evening. It was a success on many levels!

And Bailey even got to enjoy some of the evening before we put her to bed, then returned to the party. That's one of the many blessings of being on campus. School events are literally in your backyard so leaving a sleeping baby in her room while you're at the event is possible!

Parade of Nations

*Disclaimer: I only had time between naps and feedings to visit the elementary classrooms; the information contained in this post is based solely on the rooms that I saw and may or may not apply to the middle and high school presentations.

In a nutshell, this event is like Open House with a theme. Each grade level selected a different country and worked for 4-6 weeks on putting together

presentations and displays based on what they learned about their nation. They read stories about their country, wrote about the things they learned, researched history and geography, created artwork that reflected the native wildlife, and performed musical selections in a traditional manner. Also, being that this is a Christian school with many missionary families, the students also looked at the ministry going on, some even doing some comparative religion research.

Work for this day monopolized hours of the school day for the past several weeks in many of the

classrooms. Teachers did their best to integrate anything and everything into the study of the country. Fourth grade students took their discussion of thermal energy in science and applied it to the need in Russia for quality insulation in homes and layers of clothing. Third grade applied their study of communities to Australia, creating posters of the regions that make up the land down under. And everywhere you looked, artwork abounded, illustrating wildlife, vegetation, artifacts and architecture.

In addition to the hours of prep work, researching the

countries, learning about traditions and creating posters, 3-D models and games, the students also had to present their findings to other students as a giant procession took place on campus last Friday.

After a thirty-minute set-up time, students moved around campus spending about 25 minutes in various rooms. Because of logistics (and an early dismissal day), classes didn't make it to see all 12 nations/classrooms, nor did they have to present 12 times. Instead, I believe each class presented 4 (or 5) times and toured the same number of other classes. Pre-Kinder and Kindergarten presented to high schoolers, and middle school students educated 3rd graders; AND they all still got their merienda/recess and lunch time. I caught a glimpse of the schedule that was given to teachers for the day and it was dizzying to look at; a huge gold star for whoever put THAT one together.

Parents, too, were invited to be part of the event and a handful did come to see their student's work. It's hard

to say whether or not the turn-out would have been different had the event taken place in the evening, but considering that there were NO 3rd grade parents that came to Back to School night back when I was subbing in third grade, I think it's safe to assume that the parents that wanted to be there made time for it. And would have no matter what time of the day it took place.

The nations that were represented, you ask? Here's a quick run-down:

Pre-Kinder/Kindergarten: Portugal

1st & 2nd: Costa Rica3rd: Australia

4th: Russia

5th: India

Middle School (lumped together because I don't know any better): England (7th), Japan and Austria

High School (again, I don't know which grade belongs to which

country): Vietnam, Haiti (12th), Egypt, and Ireland

Since Brandon sees ALL the students on campus during the week, he and the other elective teachers were assigned to various grade levels to help their homeroom teachers with the prep work and with crowd control the day of the event. Here is a photo of the 7th grade group that Brandon was able to spend the day with:

And the highlights of the day for me? There were three.

One was watching the Pre-Kinder students act as immigration at the door of their classroom, stamping "passports" and handing them to each student and parent that came in the door. Let's just

say they took their job VERY seriously and slammed that stamp down with fierce authority!

The other two highlights had to do with being involved in the third grad presentation. Bailey was the life-sized prop for the coastal region, playing in a blow-up pool in her bikini while classes toured the room. Don't worry, there's a referral in the works for her violating dress code. :)

And, finally, the third grade students performing their didgeridoo's for the 11th graders as they entered the decked-out room!

Grocery Shopping

As I made my way home from the store yesterday morning, I got to thinking about how complicated grocery shopping is (as the sweat dripped into my eyes, my shoulders started to burn, any my arms began to give in to gravity's pull). So when I finally made it back into the apartment, I plopped everything I had been holding onto the couch so I could capture the moment for you:

Ta-da! Now THAT'S how you go grocery shopping!

When we leave the house, we're not as out of control. The large plaid bag and the two smaller green bags fold up nicely and I can tuck them into the flowerdy bag, which is Bailey's cart cover. I'm not terribly germaphobic, but the carts at our store don't always have steatbelts and Bailey's a mover and a shaker!

Once the bags are all tucked inside each other like Russian nesting dolls, I load Bailey into the Baby Bijorn, after making sure she has sunscreen and bug spray on, and ease my purse across my chest - and Bailey's. My purse (the brown bag in the picture) also doubles as a mini-diaper-bag since it's stuffed with a few extra diapers, wipes, burp rag and back-up outfit. Man, I should have been a girl scout.

The walk to the grocery store is a piece of cake. We talk about the cars zooming by, what colors they are, the noises they make and the people inside. Bailey points at her shadow on the ground and I point out all the shapes and colors on the walls that line the sidewalk.

I grab a cart as we enter the doors of the supermercado and then park in an aisle to unpack. People that watch me must think I'm crazy. First the flowerdy bag comes off and I pull out the plaid and green bags, stashing them in the bottom of the cart. Then I unfold the cart cover and secure it around the seat of the cart. Next it's time for the Baby Bijorn to come off and Bailey to take her seat and begin playing with the toys that were also stashed inside. Wait, I forgot about my purse. Well, sometimes it comes off with the seat cover and other times I just sling it to the side . . . it all depends on how crowded the grocery store is and how "safe" I feel leaving it in the cart for a few seconds.

Now it's time to shop. The shopping itself is fairly normal. I've mentioned before about having to weigh out produce, bread, meat and cheese and their respective scales, but aside from that (and the fact that everything is in Spanish) it's just like shopping in the states.

Checking out at the cashier is fairly normal too, except that most (dare I say "all"?) Paraguayans don't push their carts or baskets through to the end of the cash register. Instead, they unload their goods at the front of the counter, then push the cart backwards. Everyone behind them in line knows what to expect, so we just step aside and help navigate the empty cart to a full stop in a random, vacant location in the aisle, where it sits until a box boy comes and collects it. But, since I have Bailey securely fastened in the cart and need both my hands to load groceries onto the counter, hand off my bags to the bag boy and pay, I do things American-style and push Bailey all the way through.

Loading back up for the walk home is just as complicated as unloading. Usually the bag boys stash the heaviest things in the big plaid bag, then put napkins, diapers, and toilet paper in the two green bags I carry in my hands. When they do, I swap out the heaviest bags to put in my hands and put the lighter things in the bag that will accompany Bailey on my shoulders. It just makes more sense to me. After swapping out bags, I take off the purse, load Bailey back into the Baby Bijorn, and sling the purse back across our chests. I then pack up the cart cover, shoving it into the plaid bag. Once I've positioned the plaid bag over my right shoulder, I grab a green bag in each hand and set off on the 10 block walk home. Thankfully there is a bus bench about half-way between the store and home where I can switch shoulders.

And that, dear friends, is how we do things in Paraguay! :)

Son Perfectos

They're perfect.

Those words were music to my ears on Monday afternoon as we stood in the doctor's office at the Baptist hospital in Asuncion. Looking at the x-rays of Bailey's hips that had just been taken down the hallway, the doctor's simple words dissolved all of our fears from the past ten months.

The full story starts just weeks after Bailey was born. During her first visit with a pediatrician (in California), he was doing all of the routine checks that are done during the baby well visits, and heard/felt a "click" in her hip joint as he rotated her hips in their socket. He briefly explained what could be wrong (Developmental Dysplasia of the Hip) and refered us to a pediatric orthopedist for further investigation. When we visited the specialist, she didn't seem overly concerned, but sent us to have an ultrasound of Bailey's hips just to double-check (especially since we were leaving the country and were unsure what healthcare would be like).

A week or so before leaving the country, we had the ultrasound done and Bailey was given a clean bill of health, with the caveat that she wasn't 100% in the clear yet, but would need to be closely watched, especially as she came close to walking age.

Our doctor here in Paraguay has been diligent to check her hips at every appointment. Trouble was, her hips couldn't make up their mind. One visit there would be a click on the left side, the next appointment, on the right, sometimes on both . . . none of us knew what to think. At her most recent appointment, as she stood on her own, "walking" around the chairs and pulling herself up on the doctor's desk drawers, Dr. Schmidt decided that we should look into the click further, one last time, before she was fully walking on her own.

Off to the Baptist hospital we went.

After answering some basic questions about Bailey's birth (normal or cesarean? normal), her food of choice (leche materna? si!), and when she started standing (en diciembre), he handed Bailey two tongue depressers to distract her from what he was doing, and proceeded to push her legs around to feel for the click. He, too, heard it, and, like all the doctors before, wasn't too concerned, but wanted to follow up.

Off to get an x-ray.

Bailey cried the whole time she was naked on the table, with the arm of the automated x-ray machine zooming overhead. I stood with my hands on her shoulders, singing to her while one of the technicians held her legs in position. While I sang I wondered why the tech was in full body armor and didn't offer me any protection against the x-rays, but I suppose now it's a mute point.

Within five minutes we had an envelope with two x-ray films tucked inside. One of her legs extended straight down and the other with her legs bent upward like a frog. I snuck a peek on our way back to the doctor's room, but I didn't know what I was looking for. Thankfully the doctor did know what to look for and quickly announced that all was well with Bailey's hips and she wasn't in need of therapy, braces, or any other horrible thing my mind had been concocting.

PRAISE GOD!

First Futbol Games

It's officially started; soccer season. The teams practiced for two weeks back in November and have been at it again since we returned in February, but this week marked the first time both the girls and boys teams had match-ups against another academy here in Asuncion. Once the game was confirmed for Friday afternoon, Brandon's intensity went up a notch, as did the other coach's (Glen). Many of the students were nervous about their debut on the field, and other's were overly optimistic about their own skills.

Now, for a country whose national pastime is futbol, whose children kick soccer balls as soon as they can walk, and whose streets are dotted with mini-soccer fields (canchitas) bursting at the seams with patrons, their knowledge about the game is not what you would expect. They can kick around a soccer ball all day, and some have a tricky move or two up their sleeve, but ask them to open up for a pass, control the ball, or make a run down the side-line and they're lost. At least the kids at ACA kids, it seems. Brandon and Glen have been working with both the girls and the boys on putting together an organized system in which to play. They've done drills, worked on conditioning, and had walk-through's on the field, talking through plays and highlighting strengths and weaknesses.

When it came time to play on Friday, both the girls' and the boys' teams were anxious to see how all the extra training - and education about how to play - would pan out. After all, the last time the boys played Faith Christian School, they lost 14 - 2. They knew they had learned a lot and were confident that they would perform better.

And they did.

Friday was a scorching day, especially on the steps/bleachers that were in the full sun at 4 P.M. But students, parents and teachers all braved the heat to support their team.

The boys team took the field first and made a good showing. They even scored the first goal, and then held the score at 1-1 until the end of the first half. As exhaustion set in (and the referee refused to call off-sides), Faith scored three more goals in the second half, all unanswered. The final score for the boys: 4-1.

One thing you have to know about the girl's team is that only 3 of the 16 girls on the team have ever played soccer before. And 12 are in junior high. Two of the three best players are junior highers. The other team was made up of entirely high school students. BIG high school girls. So, as they took the field, they were all incredibly anxious as this was not only their first game playing together, but for most of them their first game EVER. Talk about pressure.

But, like the boys, they did well.

The final score was 4-0 and Faith walked away victorious over both the girls and boys at ACA, but our teams walked away hopeful, too. They played well as a team, saw the fruit of all their hard work and saw a glimpse of the teams that they CAN be if they continue on the path that they are on. Go Knights!

And, Bailey had this AMAZING shirt! I took an old polo, cut out the logo and sewed it on a onesie! And, voila! ACA's littlest (and cutest) little fan!

Party Weekend

Relaxing this weekend was not. It was jammed full of events that got our days started early and kept us out late. We're starting the week in need of naps, but feel blessed to spent quality time with each other and our friends over the past few days.

Despite a busy week last week, Brandon and I agreed that we needed a date. We needed us time. We needed to get away from Bailey (we love you, darling!). So Friday night found us heading out to the mall for dinner and a movie while our neighbor and friend, Kristen, kept an eye on Bailey. There's a restaurant in the mall that we've been wanting to try for some time now, but it doesn't even open for dinner until some time after 7 P.M. With our movie of choice (The Tourist) starting at 8:30, and since we didn't arrive at the mall until after 7:30, we were doubtful that we'd have enough time to really enjoy a nice dinner in under an hour. So we headed to the food court, split an order to chicken fingers as an appetizer, and agreed to wait on dinner until after the movie. But, alas, after the movie we were both so exhausted that we knew the elegance of the restaurant would be lost on our tired state. So we put off eating there, yet again. One day we'll make it back for dinner. I hope.

Saturday morning started as usual, with Mommy and Bailey time in the morning while Daddy slept in (lucky duck!). When she went down for her nap (and Daddy continued to sleep) I headed to the grocery store with two of the single girls living upstairs, Jen and Courtney. We opted for a different store for variety's sake which put us on a bus both going and coming home. The trip was nondescript, until, that is, we went to disembark from the bus. Yes, another tale of bus adventure. Similar to the day when Bailey and I took a tumble from the bus, this bus came to a stop, briefly, but as Jen went to step off the bus, the driver took off again. She managed to balance all groceries and keep on her feet and Courtney and I scrambled to regain our balance on the bus and pull the chord to stop the bus, again. Anxious to escape the bus, Courtney stepped off before the bus stopped completely, but I was not so brave. After tumbling with Bailey, I vowed to never try that again. It took a few extra seconds of patience, but the bus finally stopped and I securely stepped off. Disaster averted.

Quickly putting away the groceries, the afternoon found us headed to God's Pan (pan = bread), a bakery that boasts delicious pastries, cafeteria style buffet, empanadas, and tartas, all sold by weight. Bailey got to enjoy some of my tarta (filled with egg, potato, squash and cheese, all things she's had before) and enjoyed some extra attention from other patrons enjoying their lunch. After enjoying our meal (and dessert, of course), we headed to the zoo! Bailey napped for most of the time, but here are some pictures of our time walking in the cool shade of the park:

And the day marched on . . .

Bailey needed a quality nap when we got home, and that's exactly what she got as I wrapped presents and got myself ready for a birthday party that evening. Our pastor's twin girls were celebrating their 2nd birthday and were having a fiesta in true Paraguayan style: it didn't even start until 7. Knowing that Bailey would be a wreck if we tried to keep her up late, Brandon stayed home with her while I represented the Trevino clan (and even got to claim Bailey's party favor and "secret gift").

Hoping to fall into bed myself when I returned, I was reminded that I committed to bringing something sweet to Sunday evening's baby shower. Not knowing if I would have time between church and the party, I stayed up late making sugar cookies (and sampling the broken ones, of course).

Sunday, much like Saturday, started in typical fashion. After feeding Bailey, I set her in her play pen to play while Brandon and I finished getting ready for church. But, being the first Sunday of the month, the congregation was staying after church for an asado (BBQ) and fellowship together. It was enjoyable and Bailey had a blast playing with the neighborhood kids that were there for Sunday school (and the hot dogs).

We arrived back to the apartment just in time for Bailey's afternoon nap and I, too, crashed. Then it was up and at 'em to wrap another gift, pack up the cookies and head off to a baby shower for Patricia, our associate pastor's wife, who's expecting a little boy in six weeks. Courtney (from the grocery store adventure) accompanied me on the cross-town bus ride back to church where I had the opportunity to talk with five women from church. They were very patient with my Spanish and helped me feel more apart of the church community. Thank you, Lord, for that mini-blessing!

My experience with Paraguayan parties:

• Potluck's rule! All three events this weekend found guests helping bring food for the festivities.
• Secret Presents! Much like party favors, there are "secret gifts" given to the guests. And not just one, but TWO gifts. Score!
• No Thank You's! Getting thank you's sent out promptly is nothing Paraguayans obsess over, so don't watch the mail.
• No Names, either! Most gifts are given without cards and/or names attached. Many times people will announce which gift came from where, but formal labels are not expected.

Resistance Is Futile

Yes, it's a Star Trek reference. Yes, I'm a Trekkie. (For those of you who don't get it, the Borg are a fictional pseudo-race of cybernetic organisms depicted in the Star Trek universe. They assimilate every race they encounter, using the strengths of each to get closer and closer to "perfection". With their ability to adapt quickly to new technology, they are virtually impossible to defeat, thus their mantra "resistance is futile.")

Moving on...

This past Saturday Brandon and I went with four other friends to a Paraguayan futbol game. Well, six other friends actually, but two were cheering for the other team so we won't count them. It was a huge match between the two biggest rival teams in Paraguay. Brandon had been to a game before, so it may sound familiar to those of you who read the blog regularly. I was the only newbie; all the others had been to at least one game before.

Getting Ready: The rivalry between the two teams is intense to say the least. And even some native Paraguayan, die-hard fans are leery to wear their jerseys to and from the games. Many will bring them with them in a bag, or wear a neutral colored shirt over their jersey and only expose their true team colors within the safety of the stadium. Trying to stay neutral meant avoiding red, blue, black, white and yellow. Hmmm... Hawaiian flower print tank it is! Cameras, cell phones, rings and belts were left at home, not wanting anything remotely "flashy" to draw unnecessary attention to ourselves. And if you did happen to make it to the gate with your belt on, security would have you remove it for the game, promising to return in afterwards. Good luck with that.

Driving There: Aside from the usual excitement from driving through the streets of Paraguay inherent in the lack of lane lines, disregard for right-of-ways, and pedestrians crossing whenever their heart desire, there was additional energy in the air as we made our way to the stadium. Most road-side shops were closed, many houses and businesses flew flags in support of their team, and groups of young men paraded across the streets, waving their jerseys and singing their team's songs. Police officers also started cropping up regularly at intersections, trying desperately to help control the flow of traffic as we neared the stadium.

Parking: I don't know what I was expecting in the parking department. Well, actually, I do know what I expected. A parking lot. Albeit rough and probably without much American "order" to it, I expected at least an open plot of land where we'd stash the car during the game. But no. Not a parking lot to be found (unless you count the handful of houses with driveways large enough to host a handful of cars). The streets were littered with cars jammed into every available space. Self-proclaimed parking attendants assisted with maneuvering into the impossibly tight spaces and charged for watching the car. The man who helped us said that it would cost 20 mil to park there (twice what was expected). Our driver was leery to pay the extra, but, not wanting to come back to a car with rocks through the windows or slit tires, we promised him 10 mil up-front and 10 mil when we returned. He left a note for himself under the windshield wiper. Reminding him to get the extra money when we returned? Or marking it as an "off-limits" car for pillaging? Both?

Walking to the Stadium: We were several blocks from the pitch so we quickly navigated over the broken cobblestone sidewalks and through the barricades keeping cars off the streets closest to the stadium. Arriving at the stadium, it was a strange mix of familiar, expected new, and unexpected new.

Amongst the familiar? Families sporting matching jerseys, dads hoisting their sons of their shoulders to see over the crowds, food vendors with drinks and snacks, people selling team paraphernalia.

The new that I was expecting? Chipa rather than churros, heightened security, team songs being sung by fans of all ages, and a less "flashy" stadium.

The new that caught me by surprise? Where do I begin? I didn't realize that heightened security meant an all out frisking (complete with the officer squeezing my back pockets and running her hand between my breasts). I didn't expect to see the local channel 13 news parked on the corner, setting up their glass table on rubble from the street with few lighting props or barricades to keep non-news folks off the "set". I was bewildered by the lack of advertisements within the walls of the stadium; plain cement walls surrounded us on all sides, uninterrupted by ads for nike, espn and coca-cola. Even the food vendors caught me off guard as they weren't run by a particular company (as far as I could tell), but were independently run with homemade snacks and sodas poured immediately into plastic cups rather than left in their plastic bottles. (My best guess as to why is two fold: one, it's easier to collect them for recycling money if they never leave your hands, and two, it's one less item for the fans to hurl onto the field in anger)

And the biggest shock to my system: no assigned seats. Maybe it's my own OCD tendencies, or just my "American" frame of reference, but I still have a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that the tickets we bought were for a particular section of the field (that ran the entire sideline), but that our exact seats were up to us and depended entirely on how early we arrived. And arrive early enough we did not. Cassie and I (the two girls in the group) managed to get two aisle seats, one in front of the other, while the four boys with us camped out in the aisle, sitting on the concrete steps during "tranquilo" moments in the game.

The game itself was indescribable. The crowd moved as one, standing, sitting, chanting, and singing in unison at key moments in the game. It was impossible to stay seated with everyone standing around you, or to stand once everyone else sat. It took a few stand-up-sit-down rotations to catch on, but soon we were sucked into the momentum of the crowd and joined the seamless movement of the fervent fan base. Catching onto the lyrics of the songs was a bit more difficult, but that didn't exempt us from clapping and waving along to the drum beat that exuded from the far end of the field, where the ultra-intense, hooligans sat. For a moment, we were a part of it all. We belonged, if only somewhat.

And it felt like home.