La Piñata

I must describe a piñata to my Armenian friend. She is preparing her son's first birthday party, and the party coordinator asked if she wants to have a piñata at the party.

-A piñata, what is that?
-It's the Mexican toy you break to release the candy and toys, of course!

Good thing Gohar has me on speed dial and frantically called to ask if she would be committing a huge faux pas if there was no piñata at her son's party! She asked, demanded, to know what this piñata thing is, and if she must go on the Mexican Ebay to bid for one.

I sighed. Once more, I am the Mexican cultural broker trying to explain and help my friend make sense of what this Mexican cultural icon is (true, I am not Mexican, but those are just small details to my friends, we all look alike don't we?).

So ok, a piñata. Without delving into the history of the piñata, of which I know nothing about, I explain what a piñata is. It's this multicolored festooned toy that can be made into many different forms: the omnipresent star, a dog, cat, and for the discerning 5 year old, Winnie the Pooh. You fill the toy with candy and toys (if you're still in the old country, oranges and bananas will have to do) and then smack it with a stick. You hit it over and over until it breaks and all these goodies come out for the kids to enjoy.

Yes, I told my friend the sanitized version of the piñata. The truth of the matter is, you do not want to acknowledge the fact that your ancestors' idea of fun was to blindfold and spin the kids around until they were too dizzy to walk straight. The kid then brandishes the big ole broomstick nilly willy and if the other kids are lucky, will not be hit over and over, until there is a bloodshed in your backyard.

When the biggest, toughest, meanest kid finally breaks the piñata, the candy falls to the ground followed by a downpour of kids. The smallest kids are crushed to the ground and once the older ones get their fill of candy, there are at least 5 little kids crying their eyes out because they got scrap! I've seen the look of terror in my non-latino friends when they witness the destruction of poor Spongebob. He had no chance! All that candy was more enticing than a creepy looking version of the sponge sea creature.

I sometimes wonder who in their right mind would come up with the idea of creating a game where investing in liability insurance will eventually be an option. I usually ask myself this question while in line at the local farmer's market while I wait for the vendor to bring me the biggest, meanest, fattest Yugi-oh piñata. The doubts in my head last for a minute or so. After all, I grew up going to at least 10 piñatas every year. I grew up fine. I'm sure the twitch in my eye has nothing to do with being whacked more than once on the head by some poor kid who thought the piñata was exactly where the other kids were anxiously waiting their turn in line.

Yes dear Gohar, I am quite sure that Dear Ms. Manners will probably get a letter from an offended mother complaining of a children's party that lacked a piñata. What is this world coming to where a decent kid goes to a party and his little latino spirit is crushed when there is no piñata cat mocking him from up above? Tell the party coordinator that, yes, the piñata is a must-have item at your son's party. And please, do send us an invitation! I would not miss the opportunity to see all those kids, er, piñata getting whacked in the head!

Copyright 2007.