Here in Mexico when a young girl reaches the age of fifteen she is given the biggest and best party her parents can afford. I dare say that her Quinciano is even more important than the wedding she may have in her future. Especially is it so in this small village of Ajijic unlike in the states where I am from where debutantes are introduced to society in a group and usually during a carnaval ball during Mardi Gras season.
Yesterday I was faced with a dilemma--received two beautiful invitations from young ladies and because the times started just an hour apart, I had to choose which one to attend. One was from the granddaughter of my friend's maid whom I know and like and the other was from the daughter of my new friend. Since this mother's manicure-pedicure shop is next door to our home and I see her almost daily, I chose to accept her invitation.
As translated from Spanish it reads: "We have the honor to invite you and your appreciable family to the Mass of Thanksgiving with the motive of the fifteenth anniversary of our dear daughter."
This is followed by a statement by the daughter, "Today I reach fifteen years and give gratitude to God for this great treasure. My parents, my brother and friends share this joy that I feel today, to leave behind my childhood and become a woman. My hope is that the path I follow will be as beautiful as that of my past. Thank you, Papa and Mama."
Always, the event starts with Mass at the local church on the girl's birthday. The priest gives a rather long talk addressed solely to the "quinceanera", the fifteen year old and no longer a mere child. Since my Spanish is not fluent, I had to struggle to understand the message that now she must act responsibly with high morals, etc.
I had been told by her mother about the dress she had chosen to wear. It was purchased in the nearby city of Guadalajara and I did not expect to see anything so sumptuous and beautiful as the one she appeared in. The white satin fashion was strapless with a black and white bow hanging from one shoulder. Narrow black ribbons and wide black bands encrusted with crystals ran across the pointed bodice and near the bottom hem. The beautifully laced back of the dress ended in several wide ruffles. The very full long skirt fell from tiny pleats hugging the waist.
The three of us foreigners (all customers and friends of the manicurist) arrived at the appointed hour but it seemed none of the Mexican guests chose to do so. We waited for almost an hour for the girl and her parents to arrive in a decorated car and for the party to start while the musicians and caterers set up for entertainment and the food.
The event took place in a "jardin", an outdoor garden which held a stage for the musicians and their large sound equipment, a dance floor, a place designated for gifts and a cake area. There were six large round cakes, each on top of a pedestal of varying heights and creating quite an extravagant display.
Finally the rest of the guests arrived. There were family and friends with lots of little children beautifully dressed and excited, already dancing with the music that had started to honor Giovanna, the quinceanera! There were several well behaved black and white dogs running around freely and playing with the children. It seemed to me that even they were chosen for the black and white theme of the decor.
Two large white tents covered the area which had several large bunches of white and silver star-shaped balloons hanging from the domed tops. The many tables, each for eight persons, were covered with white cloths and held centerpieces of lilies made of corn husks from the village across the lake where they specialize in that handicraft. Favors were given to each person to take home as a remembrance.
Friends of the family soon were serving many trays of food and drinks. "Will you have beer or tequila with the mixings? Bean dips, chips, jicama and cucumber slices seasoned with limes and chili pepper for appetizers. The comida or meal consisted of salad, roasted chicken, Mexican rice with corn and pepper strips and plenty of tortillas kept hot in a basket.
Music was provided by two different groups taking turns, some with visual effects such as smoke covering the dancers. A very important part of this ceremony is the "waltz" where her father dances with the honoree followed by her grandfather, brothers, uncles, her godfather and other male members of the family.
Some of us danced, not with partners, but alone or in circles taking turns in the center improvising his or her steps. Another tradition, I think, was when the girl was told to literally take a bite from one of the cakes, she hesitated and I learned why. When she actually did it she was pushed into the cake covering her face with the white icing. The children loved that and cheered reaching out for their own share of cake.
At other quincianos parties, depending on how affluent the family is, I have seen professional choreographers perform with the birthday girl even including a kind of skit where she dances around first with a doll before noticing the fellow nearby. She then discards the doll and flirts with him. Also, at some, I have seen as many as eight male chamberlains or attendants take part in the ceremony, each one dancing with her after her father does.
We sat there visiting with each other, posing for pictures (one with all of our manicured nails to show our hostess later), and waiting for the beautiful cake to be served. That is my description of one party. Now I wonder what the one I chose not to attend was like.
During this same week, I was invited to attend a quinciano for the grand daughter of the woman who lived with and cared for my daughter's three children in California. She is indeed part of that family and issued a very special invitation for them (and for me) to attend the event in Tijuana, Mexico across the border from where they live. As much as I would like to be there, I cannot justify the air fare plus hotel for the one-night visit even though it would be an opportunity to be with part of my own family there.
I am hoping this little story will prepare them for what to expect during their first experience of such an important Mexican event. Again, I wonder what I will miss.
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—About our writer:
Sylvia Perkins lives part of the year in Ajijic, Mexico with her husband Hal and enjoys writing about the local culture and the wonderful people there.
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