Frijoles Charros

Here is a Mexican dish that is often served at new years eve parties in Mexico. I often make this dish in Canada for new years eve gatherings as well. This is a good recipe for a big crowd that everyone will love. It is full of flavor and deliciousness! You can adjust your spice level with the amount of jalapeños and chile powder. 

Now for the history lesson...

Charro is a type of Mexican cowboy that is known for wearing the traditional attire seen below. They participate in Mexico's national sport called Charreadas, which is a type of rodeo. Check out the link here for more information.

Alejandro Fernandez

Frijoles Charros

Ingredients:

16 oz bag of dried pinto beans (washed and soaked overnight in water)

1 lb fresh ground pork & beef mixed

1/2 lb fresh or semi-dry chorizo

1 medium onion

5 cloves garlic, minced

3 roma tomatoes, pureed

3 jalapeños, minced (remove ribs and seeds to reduce heat), optional

1/4 c. chopped cilantro, optional

1 tablespoon of cumin

1 tablespoon of chile powder (mild, medium or hot)

Directions:

In a crockpot, add pre-soaked beans, cumin, chile powder and fill with 8-10 cups water. Cook beans on high heat, covered for 3-4 hours or until tender.  If water evaporates too much you may need to add more. 

While beans are cooking, over medium heat, cook the chorizo, ground pork/beef until done.  Add onion, garlic and cook until onion is translucent. Add tomato puree and jalapeños and cook for and additional 3 minutes.

Add the cooked beans to the meat and tomato mixture and stir. Cook an additional 30 minutes to fully develop the flavors. Stir in cilantro just before serving and a hot pickled pepper for extra heat and flavor.

Mmmm delicioso!  I mean the frijoles charros of course! J

Reflections of a Mennonite

Continued from Blurred Mennonite

I woke up to the pleasant smell of George and saw dark blondish hair peeking through the blanket next to me. I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and looked around to try and figure out where I was. I realized I was still wearing my skimpy dress and that I was wearing George’s jacket over my dress. 

I pulled my hair away from my face so I could see better and looked over at the pile of hair again. I quickly looked away and held my breath when I saw the hair moving. Then I felt the bed moving as a soft delicate voice said, “Hey, good morning, Anna.”

I took a deep breath, turned my head, looked again, and saw Christina sitting there. 

“Good morning, girls! Ready or not, I’m coming in with coffees,” shouted Christina's mom as she walked into the bedroom and put two coffees down on the bedside table. As I sat up, I felt so cold in my short dress I zipped up the jacket and pulled it down as far as it would go to cover my legs. After I drank a few sips of the coffee, it all started coming back to me.

Shortly after the countdown and all that hugging happened, Christina had started crying about how badly she wanted Richard back. She begged me to take her to her mom’s house and stay with her for the night. 

George and Sam offered to walk us to the house, and before we left George talked me into putting on his jacket.

“I will be okay, It’s just around the corner,” I said.

“I don’t give a shit how far it is, I don’t want you to get frostbite, Anna.”

“What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me, I have a sweater,” he answered as he helped me put his jacket on. He zipped it up all the way to the top. George and Sam walked us all the way to the door down a slippery, ice-covered sidewalk to the house. We said goodbye and Happy New Year again to the guys, took off our shoes, and stumbled to Christina’s old bedroom. I lay there feeling useless as I listened to Christina cry herself to sleep. 

That morning she didn’t look so sexy anymore. Her eyes were all red and swollen from crying the night before. She had black mascara smeared all over her eyes and face. We just sat there on the bed and giggled about how we looked and felt. Until her mom yelled, “Girls, come and eat! Breakfast is ready!”

We stumbled to the dining room and sat down at the table while her mom served us more coffee, pancakes, and bacon. She continued asking me about Mennonites and how they celebrate New Year’s in Mexico. 

As I ate, I explained to her: “We would spend New Year’s Eve cleaning, baking, and doing a few loads of laundry. It felt much like a Saturday and Monday at the same time. When all the chores were done we would go to town on the colony bus that passed through our colony twice a day. We often took the three o'clock bus to go to town and buy groceries. We never hugged people or said Happy New Year to anybody. We never stayed up past midnight like some people do here. We went to sleep at our regular bedtime but we often woke up around midnight because of all the echoing gunshot sounds we heard. The native Mexican people celebrated by shooting away the old year up into the sky.” 

“Oh dear, do you know if anyone has ever gotten shot during a celebration like that?” She asked.

“No, never.”

“Most people drink to celebrate the arrival of the New Year, that could be a dangerous combination. I would hope that people wouldn't get too drunk to remember which way is up,” she said. 

“I hadn’t thought about it like that, but yeah, that could be dangerous,” I answered.

“What about New Year’s day?” She asked.

“New Year’s day wasn't much different from an ordinary Sunday. Most people would go to church in the morning. Then in the afternoon, we would visit with family and sometimes go to a mountain called La Magdalena. It was not too far from the colony behind Nuevo Ideal. we would have barbecues or fish fries,” I answered.

“That sounds like fun, to be able to do that on New Year’s Day,” she replied.

I started feeling a bit better after I ate, had a few cups of strong coffee, and put my other clothes back on from the day before. Christina’s mom left with a friend. We stayed and just hung out at her house. We looked at fashion and Cosmopolitan magazines. Christina wanted to watch a movie so she asked me to pick one out of the pile.

I picked the newly released Romeo and Juliet movie, not knowing what that movie was about until we started watching it. I felt awful for picking that one when I realized that what it was all about. Watching that movie was a bad idea -- it brought her right back to the place I was trying to get her away from. 

I got up to turn the movie off and she said, “No Anna, It’s okay. We can watch it, I’ll be okay. I’m just going to lay down here while we watch it.” It didn’t take long and she was snoring again.

I tried to watch the movie but I had a hard time staying focused. I felt guilty about how I had dressed for the party. Especially after I thought more about what George had to say about showing too much skin to everyone. I felt so embarrassed just thinking about it. 

I sat there, having deep guilty thoughts by a big window, staring out at all the fresh white snow on the ground, as the movie ended. It was a clear, bright, sunny day. I felt warm from the sun shining on me. I hoped so bad that George wasn't too disappointed in me and he would still want to be my friend.

My disappointment turned into mixed, angry thoughts. I thought That’s it! I quit! This is way too hard. From now on I won't shave my legs anymore and I will just wear my pleated dresses and stay a hairy f#cking Mennonite! Girl, woman, or whatever the heck I am!   

The song I Would Die for You by Garbage started to play while the movie credits crawled across the TV screen. The words of the song triggered a thought: I wonder who my fula died for… And I began thinking about, missing, and longing for my family.

I thought especially about my dad while I was sitting there. I thought about how I’d felt after I drank wine at the party. I felt like a completely different person. I felt so much lighter and more comfortable when I was able to forget all my worries for a bit. 

I began to realize that we had no idea what heavy loads my father was carrying or how he felt, and that those may have been the same reasons for why he drank so much. I felt guilty, sad, and empathy for him all at the same time.  I got really scared at that moment when I realized how easily I could slip down that same drinking path he was on.

I remembered feeling like I was walking on eggshells most of the time while I was growing up. Whenever our dad came home, we were never sure how to feel about that. That was where my habit of holding my breath started. I often thought that if I sacrificed my breath, then everything would be okay. I wanted to be the one who did that for my family. 

We never knew what mood he would come home in: happy, angry, drunk, extremely sad, sober, or hungover from the day before. The one thing we were sure of was that he was very particular about loud noises, like doors slamming. He did have a funny sense of humor but the circumstances were almost never quite right for him to show that side of himself.

As I sat there in complete silence, staring out that big window, Christina rolled herself into a ball and turned over so she stopped snoring. I remembered a time when I experienced my dad’s sense of humor for the first time.  

One day my mom wasn't home when he came home. This was one of those times I wasn’t sure what mood he was in. I couldn't tell if he was drunk or not. He walked in, sat down on his rocking chair, looked down, and didn’t say a word. That was one of those times when I felt extremely awkward and thought of all the things I should say or do but just didn’t know what to do . . . so I held my breath.

It was close to dinnertime so I thought, Just start setting the table, Anna! I got up slowly, so I wouldn't make any noise, and tiptoed my way into the kuma (pantry) to get the tweeback. I picked up the lid of the big pot where we kept our tweeback, without really looking. As it turned out, the pot was empty and still attached to the lid as I lifted it. Before I could react, I realized what was happening. The empty pot slipped away from the lid and crashed to the floor. The noise was far worse than a slamming door -- it was by far the loudest noise I had ever made in that house. I just froze and held my breath again.

I cried and laughed at the same time as I remembered my dad’s reaction to the noise that day. I heard him laughing as he said, “Ekj wunda aus doa wäa enn de kumma es (I wonder if there is anyone in the pantry)?”

I took a deep breath and I let out a big sigh of relief, realizing he wasn't mad that I had made such a loud, unpleasant noise. I got tweeback from a different pot and continued to set the table while my dad sat there, lost in what looked to me like deep, regretful thoughts. When he snapped out of his reverie, he got up and said, “Ekj woa gon Sush sajen see sul dee kumm halpen (I will go tell Sara to come and help you).”

Those moments were rare, but they were the happy memories I held onto as much as I could. Especially during the many times when I felt overwhelmingly guilty for leaving and didn’t know what to do with myself.

I wanted to go home and call my family but Christina was still sleeping and I felt so bad for her. I couldn’t just leave there all by herself with all her pain. I was afraid that she might hang herself too if she woke up and discovered that she was all by herself and that no one cared enough to stay by her side. 

I talked myself into staying. I thought, Staying by her side is something I can do. Even though I had no words for her, she still wanted me to stay with her. I allowed myself to feel like I was actually helping her by doing just that. I realized that maybe that was the reason she kept wanting me to stay with her. Maybe she preferred no words to all to the sad, side-faced, How are you doing? questions and hugs she was getting everywhere else she went. 

I realized that every time she went out to try and get a break from everything it wasn't helping her. People weren't helping by dumping their feelings on her every time she came out. That was how I talked myself into staying and thinking that what I was doing was actually helping her. It was the only way I knew how to comfort myself at that moment as I began to drown in my own tears of sorrow. Click here to continue reading my story.

Image by Keith Smith

Blurred Mennonite

Continued from A Mennonite Makeover

Everywhere we went, people hugged each other and said Happy New Year. I had a really hard time feeling all that happiness with everything that was on my mind. I was still so puzzled about the dream I had and I couldn’t stop thinking about having to face my stalker again.

I was tempted to talk to Christina about my dream, but I didn’t want her to think that my confusion and obsession with gay people was her fault since she introduced me to her gay friend. I just carried on, trying to figure it all out on my own.

We picked up cappuccinos and made our way back to Christina’s mom's house. Christina’s mom kept bringing us snacks while she asked me all kinds of questions about growing up Mennonite as we got dressed and ready to go.

While she went to the kitchen to get us more snacks I called George to let him know that I was going to the party with Christina. I asked him if he could look for me as soon as he got there. I had a scary vision that as soon as Christina and I would walk through the door, Christina’s friends would drag her away from me. And I would be left standing there alone in my skimpy dress feeling awkward and wishing I could make myself invisible.

He said, “You bet, sweetie. You are the only reason I am going to this… fff… ah… I mean party.”

Christina picked up a big bottle of red wine and said, “You look hot, Anna. Let's go kick off the new year and try to have some fun, because the new year is coming whether we like  it or not.” And off we went, walking to the party that was right around the corner.

I sure didn’t feel hot. What I felt was the exact opposite -- I was very cold. I didn’t feel one bit as sexy as Christina looked, but then again, I had no idea what feeling sexy really was. I began regretting the decision I had made to buy that dress. But it was too late, and I thought it was a good thing that it was winter because I was going to keep my coat on all night.

When we walked through that door at the house, everybody stopped what they were doing. Their jaws dropped when they saw that the person with Christina was me. I got really nervous, and just kind of hid behind Christina for a while until people carried on and my vision came true -- Christina’s friend came and dragged her away. I was left standing there, all exposed and feeling vulnerable, wishing that I could make myself disappear.

I walked in further, found a chair in a corner where no one would really notice me, and sat down. I kept holding my breath, hoping that it would help so no one would come over and talk to me. Especially my supervisor Derek, who intimidated the heck out of me. Wherever Derek went, Sam the Dude went, making me doubly anxious to avoid him.

I sat there and held my breath as I pictured Derek and Sam showing up before George would come to my rescue. I was beginning to feel lightheaded when I remembered George’s saying: Chin up, deep breaths, and smiles only, Anna! And as I took a deep breath I saw Derek and Sam walking through the door and thought, Ay, caramba! Here we go.

I didn’t know what to do with myself, where to look, or how to act so that they wouldn't see me and come talk to me. My heart was pounding as I began to figure out which door I could sneak out of and run home -- my apartment was really close. I suddenly really missed my dictionary. I wanted nothing more than to put on my brown pleated dress with the yellow tulips and look up words in my dictionary.

As I thought, I am going, I am out of here, and got up to leave, I was interrupted.

 “Hey, Anna! Nice to see you here. Wow, you look… ah… so different. Wow, let me see your dress. Take that jacket off and let me see you,” Bree ordered.

I thought, Ha li kringil! As she took matters into her own hands and pulled my jacket off. She threw it on the chair I had been sitting in and slowly walked around me, looking me up and down. “Wow, you’re f#cking hot! Where have you been hiding all those curves, Anna? You have breasts!”

I turned beet red and couldn’t come up with a single response as I thought, I knew buying this push-up stoff brell was a huge mistake.

Bree loved it -- embarrassing me was her favorite thing to do.

When Christina spotted me, she started walking toward me with two glasses of wine in her hands. All I could think of was, Come on, Christina, walk faster!

When Christina finally got to me, she handed me a glass of wine and asked how I was doing.

“I think I should go home now. I shouldn’t be here with all of these fancy people.”

“But the party hasn't even started yet.”

“I just feel like I don’t belong here.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have ditched you. It's just that my friend wanted to talk to me in private. George should be here soon.”

“George is coming?” Bree asked, and I immediately thought, Oh crap! I started to drink the wine Christina brought me. As the first sip of red wine went down, I instantly started feeling lighter and a bit more comfortable. I just kept an eye on Bree, and while she was talking to someone I tiptoed around her, got my jacket, and put it back on.

I turned around and there was Sam the Dude. “Anna! You are here?” He asked.

“Yes, I’m here,” I said, as I thought, Wait! He asks me that same question with such disbelief every time.

“Wow, you look, ah… different than the last time I saw you. Your hair looks so… fluffy.”

“Yes, I got a haircut, at a salon.” I wanted to make sure he knew that I didn’t do that to myself, that someone else did that to my hair.

“Why are you putting your jacket on, are you leaving?”

“Ahhh… I’m just cold and I feel like I don’t belong here.”

“Why is that?”

“Ahhh… I didn’t know Bree would be here and I don’t know most of the theses people.”

“Don’t mind Bree, I think she is just jealous of your friendship with George, that’s all. She’ll get over it.”

Sam was beginning to grow on me. I couldn't forget and was still afraid of what he wanted to show me when he told me to let him know if I wanted to experience a time of my life. I thought maybe I could let that go and we could be friends. He was really nice to me and every time I ran into him I had pleasant conversations with him.

He was a good-looking man. He had dark messy hair, hazel eyes, and he always smelled really good. He also had very nice teeth which was important to me.

I was tempted to ask him why he was so surprised every time he saw me out, but I was too afraid to know what the reason was and thought that I might be better off not knowing.

“What are you drinking, can I get you another drink?” he asked.

“Ah… okay, sure, another glass of wine would be nice,” I answered.

He took my glass and went to get me a refill. I was beginning to feel warm from the effects of the wine, and just as I thought, Maybe I’ll stay a bit longer, George walked in.

I just stood there and watched him trying to figure out where I was. He looked past me a few times until he finally recognized me. He came walking over with his hands in his pockets and a confused look on his face. When he got closer he stopped and looked at me. It looked like he wanted to say something but he didn’t. He just came closer and put his arms around me, squeezed me tight against him, lifted me up, and spun me around.

When he put me down, Sam had gotten back with my wine and handed it to me.

“Thanks, Sam,” I said.

“It’s my pleasure,” he answered and turned to George, shook his hand and said, “Hey, George, how’s it going?”

Just as George said, “Great, how are you, Sam?” Bree came over and asked me if she could have a moment alone with George.

“Anna and I will go find a seat. We can catch up with you later. Come on, let's go find a seat,” Sam explained.

I followed Sam to the living room and we sat down on a sofa.

“Bree sure is having a really hard time letting go of George. I guess once you love him you can't un-love him,” Sam said.

“Yes! I imagine that it would be impossible to un-love him,” I replied.

“Let's talk about something else. What have you been up to, what do you do when you’re not at work?” he asked.

“I’m learning the whole world, twenty years behind you guys, but I will catch up! I'm gonna catch up. I even learned about gay people,” I answered in my most fabulous wine-influenced English.

“You didn’t know about gay people?”

“Nope never heard about such a thing,” I replied as George appeared in front of us and sat down beside me.

Sam got up and said, “I’m going to get a beer. Do you want one, George?”

“Sure, thanks,” George replied as he pulled his hair up. He turned to look at me as he asked, “So how did this… er, your new look, happen?”

“I went to the salon with Christina. I got a haircut and then I wanted to look sexy like Christina so I bought this dress, but soon after I put it on to come here I started regretting it. I almost went home before you got here because I was feeling really cold and uncomfortable.”

“Oh, Anna, you are beautiful no matter how you dress. I personally think women are sexier when they don't show so much skin. There are many ways a woman can be sexy,” he said.

I just couldn’t stop staring at his lips again. I had a hard time listening to his words because all I could think about was the dream I had the night before. I thought, Stop staring at his lips, Anna, as he told me about the difference between trashy sexy and classy sexy, and how he preferred classy over trashy any day.

“So often women think that they have to show men everything to be noticed, but that’s not true at all. I think what makes a woman sexy is how she acts and feels in what she is wearing, not the amount of skin she is showing off for everyone to see,” he said.

I grabbed a pillow and put it on my lap to cover my legs up as I thought, I am definitely not feeling good about how I am dressed tonight. When I get home I’m permanently hanging this dress right beside my purple nightgown dress.

“Don’t worry, Anna, you will figure out the balance between your Mennonite sexiness and where you want to be,” he said.

I laughed as I thought, Mennonite sexiness? And from there on the night flew by and became somewhat of a blur.

George happened to be close by me when people started counting down the seconds to the New Year. He hugged me and cupped my face in his hands, sending shockwaves down to my toes as I felt the warmth of his lips touch my forehead when he gently kissed it. I heard him say, “Happy New Year, sexy Anna,” and felt sad that the moment passed so quickly, and wished he would do that again.

George got dragged away from me by his friends. So many people hugged me. I even got a hug from one of the guys who I once overheard talking about how disgusting hairy Mennonite women were. I thought I wonder if he knows he’s hugging a hairy Mennonite. Though I had shaved my legs I still considered myself one of them.

I got a hug from Bree. When she loosened her arms her hand slowly brushed over my backside. I brushed it off as an accident and thought, That could happen to anybody in a crowded place like this.

The next thing I knew, I woke up with a nasty headache in a strange bed I had never seen before. Click here to continue reading my story.

A Mennonite Makeover

Continued from Misguided Mennonite

I gave George a relieved smile as I said, “Christina! Hey, how are you?” and he threw his head back as he let out a big, loud, manly sigh of relief sound. He got up and whispered, “I’m gonna go, I’ll talk to you later, Anna.”

I nodded my head and waved to him while he walked out the door and continued talking to Christina.

“Oh, I’m surviving. How are you?”

“Ahhh… I’m not sure. Actually, I am nervous as heck, scared to death, and freaking out on the inside. I just got served, do you know what that means?”

“What! You got served? Yes! I do know what that means. Oh, Anna, I’m sorry you have to go through all of this.”

“Thanks! George was here when I got the papers. He read them to me and helped me understand what I have to do.”

“Thank GOD for George, he’s the best.”

“I know! What would I do without George?”

“Oh, crap, Anna. I wouldn’t even go there if I were you.”

“Ah… no, let’s not.”

“Do you have any plans for tomorrow night? There’s this party happening just down the street from your apartment, you want to come with me?”

“Yes, I would love too, thanks for inviting me.”

“Awesome, Anna. See you tomorrow night, then.”

I decided I would go to the party and see for myself what a New Year’s party would all be about. I had never been to one before. I was curious and anxious to experience one. I thought it would help distract me from overthinking the court date that was fast approaching.

I thought I would just double-check to make sure that I was fully understanding the meaning of the word “subpoena” by looking it up in the dictionary. I also looked up “homosexuality” and learned the word “lesbian.” I spent hours looking up words in the dictionary until I couldn’t stand it anymore and had thoughts of burning the thing.

That’s when I knew it was time to do something else.

It was the longest night ever. I was very tempted to go visit George, but I figured he probably needed a break from all the chaos I put him through after his visit a few hours earlier.

I sat on my comfy reading blanket chair, watched the Latin TV channel, and thought about that dictionary the whole time. Finally, I just picked it up again and started making notes on Spanish words that I didn’t understand.

There was nothing else I could think of doing, other than looking up words in the dictionary or visiting George. I couldn’t just sit there and watch TV -- I felt I had way too much to learn to be wasting my time like that.

I convinced myself that if I turned watching TV into learning, then it wasn't really a waste of time. I wanted to learn as much Spanish as I could while I was learning everything else, in case I ever had to go back to Mexico by myself.

“It’s getting really late, Anna. Don’t fight it.” George and I were on the boat drifting toward Posen Land again. He tilted my chin up so I had to look him in his eyes as he asked, “¿Quieres besarme? (Do you want to kiss me?) Anna, I could feel the way you were staring at my lips earlier.”

I leaned in closer to him as I heard my fula’s (grandfather’s) voice echoing from a far distance getting louder and louder, “Schmock senn, Anna (Be good, Anna.) Why do you keep coming back here? The peanuts you are looking for are not here. Go look on the other side.”

“Anna… ANNA! Over here,” another voice shouted. I looked over and there was Bree. She was leaning against the edge of the boat with her legs crossed, one arm crossed over her stomach with her elbow resting on her hip holding a cigarette in her hand, “You heard your grandfather say Go look on the other side. It’s because you are a lesbian, Anna. Lesbian.”

“Don’t let her confuse you, Anna. Bésame así despacito (kiss me slowly),” said George. Then I woke up to Marco Antonio Solis’s song La Venia Bendita blasting on the Latin TV channel. The channel was showing the countdown of the best songs of the year.

I sat up and thought, “Ha li kringil! (Holy twisty bun!)”

After I woke up all the way and had a moment to think about my dream, I picked up a pillow and screamed into it with frustration. It was a vicious cycle of my thoughts causing dreams and dreams causing thoughts. It was making me crazy. It was finally New Year’s Eve and I started counting the minutes until I had to get ready for the party.

I couldn’t wait for the holidays to be over so I could go back to school. I still had five days to get through before school started again. I decided I needed to put all of my books down and go do something else to get out of my head. I called Christina and ask her if she would come shopping with me.

She said sure if I didn’t mind going with her to the salon to get a haircut, colour and her eyebrows waxed.

When we got to the salon, a man jumped out of his chair when he saw Cristina, hugged her, and asked how she was doing, with a sad, tilted, face.

She said, “Oh, I’m surviving. My mother threatened me to come and see you, so here I am. I brought a friend with, her name is Anna,” and she introduced us. His name was Scott.

“Your mom is awesome, I’m so glad she forced you to visit me. It's really nice to meet you, Anna, happy New Year. Would you like a haircut, too?” Scott asked.

“Oh, no thanks, I really shouldn’t,” I answered.

He looked at Christina with a confused look while she shook her head at him.

I fought the sudden creeping temptation to get a haircut. To try and distract myself from the idea I sat down and looked through magazines. They were filled with women with beautiful hair, wearing dresses that resembled my purple satin nightgown “dress.” I got embarrassed all over again as I remembered George telling me that it wasn't a dress.

Looking through the magazines made me feel so plain and dull and it wasn't helping me at all. It just increased my desire to want to change the way I looked.

Christina came and sat down beside me while her hair colour was developing. Christina and I were the only customers at the salon. Scott came, sat down beside me, and said, “I hope you don’t mind, Christina tells me that you have never had a haircut. If you like I could give you a trim, wash, blow-dry and style for the party you are going to tonight. It will be on me since it's your first time.”

He had me at you have never had a haircut. I was ready and nervously excited to surrender my head to him.

“Okay, yes! thank you, Scott.”

He said, “Great, follow me this way.”

I gave Christina a scared oh no, what am I doing look as I followed Scott to the back of the salon. She said, “Don’t worry! You are in good hands, Anna.”

It was the strangest feeling, to have not only a man wash my hair, but a complete stranger at that. I tried really hard to fight it but I dozed off a few times while he washed, cut, dried, and styled my hair. Other than getting a foot rub and my hair braided by George, It was the most relaxing experience.

I hardly recognized myself when I looked in the mirror. For most of my life, my hair had been flat against my head, pinned up in a hairnet, in braids, or in a bun. Now it was fluffy, flowy, wavy and I loved it.

“Holy shit, Anna -- where have you been hiding all that hair? Wow, you look amazing,” said Christina.

“Thanks, I love it too. Thank you, Scott. I don’t know how you did it but I love it!” Those were the only English words I could think of at that moment. I followed Christina when she went to the back to get her eyebrows waxed and decided that I wasn't ready for that. I didn’t know if I would ever be.

I felt like a brand new woman walking around in the mall with my new hair, wishing that I was a new woman. A woman who wouldn’t have to go to court and face her stalker. I thought, “Well, at least I am a woman who finally knows how to correctly swear in court, thanks to George.”

That thought brought a smile back to my face as we went into a store where Christina and I each tried about ten dresses on. Christina chose a short, low-cut, sparkly silver dress. I thought I wanted to be sexy like Christina, so I chose a short low-cut green sparkly dress that looked very similar to the one she picked.

“If you are going to wear that dress, you will need a push-up bra, Anna. I know the perfect place to buy one,” Christina said. 

I turned all red as I admired her for being able to say the word “bra” with such confidence and not a single bit of embarrassment. Stoff brell (bra) was another word that we would only say if we absolutely had to and with incredible shame and embarrassment. Stoff brell translates to “dust goggles.” A word like that was way too sexy to be said out loud anywhere near the dusty Mennonite colonies in Mexico.

“A push-up ah…?” I asked as I giggled. I just couldn’t say it out loud.

“You’ll know what I mean when you put one on,” she said, and off I went, following her nervously to the next store. I momentarily hoped that I wouldn’t run into someone who might recognize me and report to the colonies in Mexico that I was seen in a stoff brell store in Canada. Oh, the shame my family would have to endure.

“Okay, what size are you Anna? And I will help you find your size.”

“Ah… I don’t know.” I answered.

“What! You don’t know what size you are? Okay, I will guess.” She picked two sizes for me and said, “Here, go try these on with your dress.”

I had never tried on a bra at a store before. In the colony when the mother thought it was time for her daughter to start wearing a bra, she would give her one in secret and she would just start wearing it, whether it fit or not. You wouldn’t ask any questions or talk about it.

As we got older we would go to a store in town and buy a new bra once in a while, but we wouldn’t try it on. We would guess the size and then oba Dios Mio shita! To face the person and look at them when it was time to pay for it. Especially when a good-looking native Mexican man was working at the till. The shame, I don’t know how our people have survived all these years.

I quickly grabbed them so no one would see me and went to the change room and tried one on and said, “WOW, you were right Christina. Now I know why this is a push-up um… ha… wow,” and giggled.

“I know, they are marvelous, eh?” She answered.

When I saw the price tag I almost fell over, but Christina explained to me that all the bras were on sale for half price. That changed everything and I just had to buy it.

When it was time to pay, it happened. My heart started pounding when a man cashier waved us over and said, “I can help you, ladies, over here.” I looked anywhere but his face as he rang it through. I was shaking when I handed him the money and grabbed the receipt. I heard him laugh as he said, “Happy New Year, and have a lovely day.”

I didn’t say anything back to him, I just grabbed my bag and started walking. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Click here to continue reading my story.

Misguided Mennonite

Continued from The girl from the Mennonite colonies of the Mexican desert

“This is Officer Mike Parsons calling. How are you doing, Anna?”

“Hello Officer Parsons, I am doing okay. How are you?” I asked as I gave George a confused look.

“I’m doing well, and please call me Mike. The reason I’m calling you today is to let you know that Mark has a court date coming up Friday, January seventeenth. I felt that I should give you a call and let you know that. And that you can expect a knock at your door sometime this week, you will be served a subpoena. If Mark pleads not guilty we will need your testimony to convict him.”

“Ah… Okay,” I said, while I thought, “What?”

“If you have any questions feel free to give me a call. Have a good day,” he said.

“Okay,” I said as I thought, Wait I have a lot of questions right now, but it was too late. The line when dead before I could say that. I thought, Well, I guess I will have to learn about getting served, uh -- What was that word again he said? A peanut or something? -- before I continue learning about homosexuality.

“Holy shit, Anna! You look like someone just sucked all the blood out of you. You want to tell me what’s going on?” George asked.

“Ah… I’m going to be served a peanut to go to court! What does that even mean?” I asked George.

He pulled his hair back with both his hands, looked up at the ceiling, laughed, and said, “It’s called a subpoena, Anna. Not a peanut.”

“What? What the heck is that?”

“AH… Of course! Oh… f#ck! I’m such an idiot. I should have talked to you about this before and explained it to you sooner. I got served one a while ago. Remember the time you watched a movie at my place when I went to court?”

“Yes.”

“So much has happened since I never thought that it was important to tell you about it.”

“Okay, so what exactly does this mean?”

“Someone will deliver an envelope with papers to you. They will ask if you are Anna, hand it to you, and if you say yes, that you are Anna, they say that you have been served. The papers in the envelope will tell you that you have to go to court.”

“Okay, and what if I say NO!”

He laughed and said, “Well, they will keep coming back until you say yes, and then you might get in trouble for saying no. Either way, you have to go to court once you have been served.”

“What?” I asked as I leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor.

“I’m sorry, Anna. This should have been handled so differently. I think they should have at least mentioned this to you at the police station when they went over everything with you. That way you would have at least had some time to think about this.”

“When they said that Mark wouldn’t bother me again I thought that meant that it was over. I thought I would never have to see him again! Ha li dietschjat! George. Will I have to talk to Mark?”

“Holy deep shit, NO! Anna, you might see him there, but you do not have to talk to him. Let’s hope that he pleads guilty, then you won’t even have to step foot into the courtroom where he will be.”

“Oh no, I don’t want to see him.  I thought it all ended when he got arrested. I thought I would never have to see him again.”

“I know, that’s why I think they should have told you that this would happen.”

I put my hands over my face and sighed as reality sank in. The idea of having to look at Mark’s face again scared me to death. It was then when I realized that that wasn’t even the worst part, and thought of one very important question: Would I have to swear in court?

I remembered when the Low German cowboy who wanted to ‘talk’ to me at the club had been caught smuggling drugs into the US. The thing that worried people in the colony the most was that he would have to swear on the Bible in court. Everyone was talking about how wrong that was and how worried they were about him having to do that.

They worried instead of taking the opportunity to learn what exactly swearing in court meant. It was the same song all over again, just like all the other times uncomfortable questions came up: “It's not up to us to figure that out. Just leave it alone and stop talking about it.”

My confused, nervous mind concluded that it was worse to swear on the Bible in court than it was to smuggle drugs across the border because that’s what was worried and talked about the most.

Up until that point, I hadn’t been able to name exactly what I felt toward Mark, partly because I put a lot of the blame on myself for not listening to George and letting it go that far. I began to resent him when I realized that I might be forced to swear in court because of him. I thought, Who better to ask than George, who was right there.

I looked over at George. He was laying on his stomach on the floor with his head resting in the palms of his hands looking at me. “Ah… George?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Will I have to swear on the Bible in court?”

He rolled over onto his back and pulled his hair as he stared at the ceiling for a moment. I heard him take a deep breath as he thought it over before he answered me.

“NO! You do not have to swear in court, Anna. The kind and brilliant people of Canada have worked their way around that, so you, your people, and many others will not be forced to swear in court.” He answered with frustration. 

“Okay,” I said with a sigh of relief and wondered why he was so frustrated about that.

“Anna, can I ask you a question now?”

“Sure.”

“Can you tell me how you think you would swear in court if you had to?”

“Ahhh… I really shouldn’t.”

“I’m just really curious to know how you think you might swear in court, Anna.”

I noticed that his frustration had turned to pleasure, and since I had already sworn, and used my SIN card way too many times, I thought, Okay, at least I will learn the truth about how exactly a person would swear in court. Then, if I had the wrong idea, at least George would tell me and I would know. And that was how I convinced myself to tell him.

I took a deep breath, my face turned beet red as I looked down and my heart began pounding out of my chest as I said Okay, and went for it.

I pictured Mark’s face as I said, “This f#cking asshole just wouldn’t leave me alone, even when I told him not to come over, he just wouldn’t listen to me, and he still came over anyways. I even lied to him so he would just go away but NOOO! NOO! He didn’t. Instead, he had to be a f#cking asshole, call the factory where I was working and tell them that HE was my boyfriend and that he planted a BOMB in the factory. AAAH!!! F#cking asshole!!!”

I took a deep breath and let out a big relieving sigh as I dared to look at George. He was still laying on his back, his hands covered his face, his whole body was shaking and it sounded like he was crying.

I thought oh no! I made George cry.

He wiped the tears off his face from laughing and shouted, “No! no! no! Anna, That is not how you swear in court!” As he fought for air to breathe because he couldn’t stop laughing.

“That wasn’t swearing?”

“Yes, but that is not how you swear in court, Anna.”

“Okay, so how do you swear in court then?” I asked.

He spent the next hour explaining to me just exactly how a person would swear in court and asked, “Would you like me to come to court with you? I will if you want me too.”

“That would be great, except it is on it is on a Friday at ten a.m., when you would be at work.”

“F#ck it! I’ll take the day off! There’s a rumor going around that we are all getting a pink slip soon anyways.”

“A pink slip? What’s that?”

“Ah… Ffffah… I shouldn’t have mentioned that now, ahhh...” and we both jumped up to the sound of a loud knock at the door. We both tiptoed to the door. “Can you look and see who it is?” I asked George.

“Yeah, sure, okay,” he said as he slowly made his way to the door. He peeked through the peephole, backed up and said, “It looks like a police officer. You want to open the door or should I?”

“Would you?”

He said, “Okay,” and opened the door. It was a police officer I had never seen before. He looked right at me and said, “Miss Wall?”

I looked at George. He winked at me and nodded his head. I looked back at the police officer and said, “Yes.”

The police officer handed me an envelope and said, “Miss Wall, you have been served. Have a nice day,” and turned around and walked away.

I just stood there in shock, holding the envelope in my hand as if I had just gotten slapped by a policeman.

George said, “That was fast! open it, let’s read it,” as he closed and locked the door.

I opened it, handed it to George, and asked, “Could you please read it to me?”

“Absolutely.”

I handed it to him. He backed up and leaned against the kitchen counter. I held my breath and I stared at his teeth as he began reading. He paused, licked his upper lip, and said, “I am not continuing until you breathe, Anna!”

I thought, How does he know that I’m holding my breath without even looking at me? I took a deep breath as he continued reading. I just stared at him the whole time. He pulled his fingers through his hair as he looked up at me and said, “Well, there you have it, Miss Wall. You have just been served. It's official, you are going to court.”

My heartbeat sped up as I watched a steady flow of words gliding past his perfect teeth.

“So why did you get served a peanut?” I asked him.

He laughed and said, “Anna, you didn’t get served a peanut! It is called a subpoena.”

“The way it is written here and the way you say it I might as well call it a peanut, it sounds as different to me as peanut and subpoena sound to you, George.”

“Okay! A peanut, it is then. We will call it a peanut for argument's sake. The reason I got served was because I witnessed a man beat up his wife. I called the cops, she pressed charges, and then I got served a peanut to testify as a witness.”

“Will I have to get dressed up all fancy like you did?”

“Well, not necessarily, but most people do dress nicer for court then they would on any other day. Your people might call it dressing up in your Sunday clothes.”

“Okay, so basically I have to go shopping for new clothes or wear my pleated, floral Mennonite Sunday dress.”

“Well, that is entirely up to you. I don’t see why you wouldn’t wear your Mennonite dress.”

“Okay, I think I am done talking about peanuts for a while now, I have had enough. What do people wear to a New Year’s party?”

“Oh shit, I forgot why I even came over. This happens to me pretty much every time I visit you, Anna. It’s all coming back to me now. The New Year’s party, that was the reason I came over, isn't it?”

“Yes.”

“You can dress however you like, Anna.”

“Do you know who is all going to be there?”

“Mostly, the same people from work that were at the club the other night.”

“You mean Derek, the afternoon shift supervisor, and Sam the Dude will be there?”

“Yes,” he said as my phone rang again. This time, his face went white. He gave me an Oh, f#ck! Who could it be this time? Look as I answered the phone with my usual scared voice: Helloooo? Click here to continue reading my story.