Angeles Somos, One Fine Day

Getting started right outside of school

 As I checked my Facebook on the night of Halloween (celebrated here in Colombia, but not with an evangelical family) I found a message from one of my co-teachers.  It read, 

“Mike, Tomorrow we have an activity called "Tintililillo" in school:, no classes. But you will be with us, ok. We'll do a "Sancocho"

I quickly did some research by asking my host mom what “Tintilillo” was and she told me that it is part of the celebration for Angeles Somos.  This holiday is celebrated here in La Boquilla and Cartagena on November 1st.  The students go from house to house in the morning asking for fruits and vegetables and sing a little song while banging on pots and pans.  The ingredients that are collected are then brought to the school for the Sancocho.

What is a Sancocho you might ask?  A Sancocho is a big soup that can be filled with anything from corn on the cob, bananas, potatoes, yucca, peppers, chicken, ribs, and much more.  However,  not all of the students did their early morning sining and thus came to school with nothing.  So some quick thinking teachers told them they to pay a few hundred pesos (25 cents) if they wanted to eat.  

When all the ingredients and money were collected the teachers then came up with a list of what they were still missing.  As two teachers headed to the store to pick up the rest of the ingredients on a moto, the rest of us went outside to enjoy the humidity and if it weren’t bad enough, start a fire for the soup.  My counterpart kept saying how Sancocho was her favorite food and that it is much better when cooked on a open fire.  So we split up and collected some kindling and threw some egg cartons on the fire to really get it going.  As if I weren't drenched in sweat already... 

As the teachers started cutting up the veggies they sat me down in a plastic chair in the shade because I guess it was obvious I didn’t know what I was doing or I looked like I was going to pass out from the heat.  Meanwhile I bet you are wondering where all of the students are at this point...well at least you are now.  And to answer that question, some were playing soccer in the classrooms, others were dancing champeta and reggaeton, and some even found drums and started playing their own music.  So as you can imagine the bulla (see costeño dictionary) level was very very high.  

We finally found a pot that would serve 110 teachers and students and began throwing all of the veggies and meat into the iron vat-- I am sure there was a strategy, I am just not aware of it.  Then we SAT.  I mean we really just chatted, listened to the kids play drums, and occasionally checked the soup for the next FOUR hours.  If you know me, you know I can’t sit still for long, but for some reason this time was different.  Maybe it was the student generated funky drum beats or the thirst quenching apple soda, but I just sat there chatted away for longer than I can ever think of.

The clock struck 6:00, six hours after I arrived at school, and the soup was finally approved by my counterpart as, “delicious” and we dug in.  Go figure a soup that takes six hours to make is a little tastier that my FAMOUS George Foreman grilled chicken.   

Some students lining up early for their bowl 

Finished product

My soup