El Rezo

Ever been to a Rezo before? Neither had we until last week, when we were lucky enough to experience our first one. Our Rezo was held at the house of our Nicaraguan home-stay family, and had been a highly anticipated event for weeks. The family spent the previous two weeks planning the details, budgeting their money, and inviting neighbors and friends (270 total) to this interesting event. So what is a Rezo exactly? Well it’s a bit tricky to explain. As our family described, a Rezo is a gathering of family, friends, and neighbors at a home to sing, pass out treats, and most importantly honor the Virgin Mary. Sounds simple enough, right? In reality, this event turned out to be far from what Trisha and I had envisioned it to be.

Our home’s Rezo was to begin at 7:00 on Saturday night, with the arrival the 270 invitees (only 200 actually made it). During the day, the family had worked on setting up rows and rows of white plastic chairs in the back yard, along with the construction of a giant altar to the Virgin. The altar had five grayish steps made of wood, each with designs that looked like stones or pebbles. One of the family members attached a hose in the back of the steps for water to run down. Above the altar were words of worship inscribed in Spanish. The top part of the altar had a small plastic statue of the Virgin Mary, along with what appeared to be a mini-baby Jesus, and I think Joseph and few Wise men.

Once the guests arrived, seats were taken and a five-piece band made their way to chairs sitting adjacent to the crowd. Trisha and I wondered which family member would act as the master-of-ceremony, but discovered no one seemed to be responsible for that job. So instead the band sat around, the crowed quietly conversed, water rolled off the altar, and Trisha and I viewed the crowd. Soon enough the band began to play and the first row of old women started belting out songs in Spanish. We had assumed the entire crowd would be singing, but found that the majority were still conversing quietly or focused on things other than the altar. This pattern of the band belting out music and the old ladies in the front row singing went on for about an hour. There was no priest or leader or even prayers to the Virgin Mary.

The uniqueness of the Rezo increased as the minutes passed. The mother and sisters of the family took to the rows and began passing out various items to the crowd. All in attendance first received a popular sweet, pink drink made from corn. Although not my favorite beverage, the majority downed theirs quickly and were given seconds. Five minutes later, the mother and sisters began round two and passed out medium-sized plastic cups full of sticky, brown, fruits that looked a lot like baked-beans. These “nacimentos” as they were called, begin green and are then pickled using vinegar and sugar. Just touching the cups made our fingers sticky. Unlike the pink drink, everyone seemed to be saving their nacimentos for later.

As the band played on and the front-row singers sang, another round of Rezo gifts were bestowed on the audience. This time large plastic bowls were passed out to everyone. Each bowl was filled with super-sweet treats bought in the local market, along with small little candy bars. We were also given matching spoons to go with our bowls. The children in the audience were given a supplemental plate of sweets, in addition to rubber balls.

The most perplexing items passed out during the night were the two raffle tickets each member of the audience received. The tickets were perplexing because no numbers were ever called during the night. I was holding my numbers all night in anticipation of winning something cool, but never did hear a number called. Who won? I saw one old man in the front row receive a large plastic Virgin Mary, but don’t know he won it.

The bowls and raffle tickets were the last of the gifts. The band finished playing promptly at 9:00 p.m. and made their way to the door in a hurry. About this time we began looking around, and surmised that this was the end of the Rezo. No announcements of an end, just people collecting their plastic cups, bowls, mini-cups, and spoons and heading for the door. There was a little socializing, but not much. We wondered if we had missed something.

Fortunately, the Rezo ended with a bang. Once out the front door, guests remained on the street while large wooded structures in the shape of bulls and covered with firecrackers were lighted. This pyrotechnic display was even more interesting as a man held the lighted bull over his head and ran up and down the street. The loud fireworks were somewhat deafening in the narrow streets, but entertaining non-the-less.

And that was the end of the Rezo. The planning, anticipation, and preparation came down to an hour in the backyard around a makeshift altar, a five-piece band, and an unusual variety of presents. Although different than the spiritual service Trisha and I had anticipated it to be, we deducted that a Rezo was an opportunity for a family to give presents to their neighbors. For us, it provided a cultural lesson and a chance to see some Nicaraguans celebrate a Christmas tradition.