Mi familia Tzu´tujil

August 9, 2010
I love my Tzu’tujil family. They’re so great. My father, Rafael, is a part-time pastor and full-time handyman. He’s like my dad in the U.S., fixing and building anything and everything. Next to Sarah, he’s the family member that I talk to the most, primarily because he’s the only one who translates their funny stories or jokes from Tzu’tujil to Spanish so that I can understand why Domingo is giggling uncontrollably. Maria, my mother, stays at home and keeps the house running smoothly. Her Spanish is only slightly better than mine, meaning that if I say a sentence in Spanish that is just totally garbled, Rafael sometimes has to translate, which is mildly embarrassing for both of us. She’s really great and cooks wonderfully. My older sister (I’ve always wanted one of those) is not prototypically Guatemalan in that she isn’t married. Most Guatemalan girls have 2 children by her age. She has had a long string of boyfriends, though, and a whole host of boy problems. We talk about them sometimes, and once in awhile she asks my advice, after which I tell her exactly what she knows she ought to do, but just needs to hear from someone else. Sarah says that my advice is good. Interesting, since I’ve only really had one boyfriend, a relationship which ended well, with very little drama from either party, so I’m not exactly the queen of relationship advice. Domingo, my brother (always wanted one of those, too, thanks Mom and Dad), has more or less gotten used to my being around. By which I mean, while he still doesn’t initiate conversations with me, he does start giggling when I say something mildly humorous or when I totally slaughter Spanish (sometimes one and the same), and will answer questions with more than one syllable. He’s got a really funny laugh, a high-pitched, honest-to-God GIGGLE. He’s a good guy.
This evening, there was a bit of a party for Rafael, a continuation of last night. There was tres leches cake. I had two pieces. Some more family came over, Rafael’s brother, his wife, and a son and daughter that live next door. During supper, they started talking about the arrival of a group from the U.S. that has come for four days to teach English to the community. My family thinks that’s all a big joke. Domingo starts giggling at any mention of it. They all know at least a few words in English, and I think Sarah speaks it at least a bit. So for awhile, we had this great mixture of Spanish, English, and Tzu’tujil running around the table, with everyone asking “Como se dice…,” “como se llama…” and then translating my translation into Tzu’tujil for better comprehension. Then they all started telling stories in Spanish, except right when the good part was coming, they’d start laughing and slip into Tzu’tujil, and so I never knew what was so funny!! They’re so wonderful.