Memories of México

A most peculiar New Year’s tradition

Kass’ mum asks me: “Other than New Year’s, what holidays do you celebrate in the UK? Do you have an independence day?” I explain that we don’t celebrate our independence — other countries celebrate their independence from us.

We’re spending the final day of 2023 with family, and helping Kass’ cousin prep and pack food for his catering business. Customers are swinging by all day picking up relleno (stuffing), meat, spaghetti, fruit cocktails, lasagne, mashed potato, and other dishes for their NYE parties.

Once the last crates of food have been trolleyed off, we all chill out for a couple hours, then Kass and I head to our own New Year’s party. It’s in the family home of a friend-of-a-friend (now just ‘friend’). One wall is adorned with about 40 crucifixes of assorted sizes, colours, styles, and materials. I feel my inner demons tremble a little. But there’s a bowl of dog food on the floor of the kitchen — a hint that there are good boys somewhere on the property that we might be able to pet later in the night. My demons and I are appeased.

Around 11pm, tamales are served. One of the friends-of-a-friend-now-just-friends explains to me that making tamales can be an arduous all-day affair. Soaking the corn husks, preparing the fillings, grinding the masa dough, lining the corn husks with the dough, cooking the assembled tamales, and making everything else that goes along with the main dish, like the salsas and frijoles (beans). She tells me her grandmother taught her how to make them. In the New Year’s Eve rush, I don’t fully appreciate how lucky I am to eat something so delicious and personal.

At about ten-past-eleven, more friends show up. One is carrying a large bowl of grapes. Curious, I think. But there’s never a bad time for grapes. 30 minutes later, I’m handed a cup with exactly 12 grapes inside. Okay. 12 Days of Christmas, but with grapes instead of drummers? My friends explain that it’s tradition to eat 12 grapes and make 12 wishes at the stroke of midnight, as one year gives way to the next.

We head up to the roof, a large square patio with unobscured views in every direction, grape cups in hand, and ready ourselves for the countdown. I can’t think of 12 things I really need, so I just wish to meet 12 dogs. We all hug, tell each other how much we appreciate one another, watch the fireworks while commenting on how we dislike fireworks, and then unfold a table to play beer pong. Same as it ever was.

When the fireworks (and gunshots — some folks prefer emptying a round into the air over wishing on grapes) subside, our new friends release their dogs onto the rooftop. That’s two out of 12 wishes fulfilled.

If you thought the dozen genie grapes were the peculiar New Year’s tradition referenced by this entry’s title, no — it gets stranger. A few minutes into 2024, Kass beckons me to the edge of the roof and points down at the street. There are a few people running along dragging luggage bags behind them. One person is carrying it over their head. Some folks in México and other parts of Latin America do this with empty suitcases, I’m told, to manifest lots of travel during the year. Incredible.

A short while later, Kass and I are in the back of a taxi heading to our next New Year’s party. She’s already drunk her way to somewhere between ‘merry’ and ‘messy’, and starts to fall asleep during the 20-minute drive down la carretera, one of the major roads in and out of Monterrey. Then she suddenly says: “I’ve been down this highway so many times, I can tell where we are just by feeling the curves in the road.” She starts naming landmarks, shops, and friends’ houses with scary accuracy. Maybe she’s faking having her eyes closed. Nope. I hover my hand an inch from her face. She doesn’t flinch, and then says we’re about to drive over a bridge beside a mall, seconds before we do just that.

We arrive at the party and, as we all sit around reminiscing about 2023 and sharing our dreams for 2024, it all starts to make sense to me. Wishing on grapes. Parading empty luggage through the streets to manifest travel opportunities. Seeing your surroundings with your eyes closed. By coming to México, I’ve been ushered into a land of witches and wizards. It must take magic, after all, to make something as tasty as those tamales.

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