What? I'm not a gringa?

How ignorant can I be? I just realized this week that I'm not a gringa--no, I'm a china, even a chinita. Why it took me two and a half months to realize this, I don't know. Also this week, I bought a watch for Paul. It's very colorful--blue band, green face with red numbers. Oh, I forgot, he's color-blind. Not winning any Most Attentive Mother Awards over here. I guess Thomas will be inheriting a new watch pretty soon.

I just wanted to thank everyone who is praying for us. This week we took a drive in the mountains with a family from school. We stopped to take pictures at a waterfall and Elise skidded on some gravel, falling and gashing her knee. Nothing a little gauze, tape and antibiotic ointment couldn't fix, but when we looked at where she had fallen, we realized that if she had just twisted or rolled, she would have gone over an edge! Thanks again for your prayers. We also have yet to experience any stomach trouble, though many of the Americans around us have.

Mother's Day is a huge holiday in Peru--on par with Christmas and Independence Day. The children's school had a big assembly for all the students' mothers. Each class in the primary school made a presentation. Thomas was Moses in his class's reenactment of the oppression of the Hebrews by the Egyptians. Paul threw flower petals while some of his class sang and danced. Elise sang and danced with her class. It was a great time for Charlie and me to see our kids on stage. They all did well. In between class presentations, various mothers were called up one at a time. At first, I thought they had won some sort of raffle, since I had heard that some schools did this for Mother's Day. Pretty quickly Charlie caught on and set me straight. These women were winning prizes--"the happiest mother," "the prettiest mother," "the nicest mother." Each woman got a certificate and what looked like a large chocolate bar. There was another class presentation and then more awards. As they announced "the most enthusiatic mother," then "the most conservative mother," I considered the event possibly blog-worthy and started taking notes. After "the most protective mother" was called up and awarded, Charlie, who had been translating, leaned over and said, "You could win the award for 'the most confused mother.'" That was funny, but then they began to announce an award that I could understand. It seemed that they were getting ready to present an award to the mother that had the most children enrolled in the school. I thought this really topped the cake and began taking more notes, thinking "that poor woman, what a strange award, I mean, how many children does she have??" Then, my question was answered when they called my name. So, I walked up there in front of 240 students and most of their mothers and 41 staff, thinking about how small Peruvian families are. I didn't win a chocolate bar, but came home instead with a sizable flower arrangement. I missed what awards were announced next as I just tried to make eye contact with my various children and Charlie as I stood on stage. This will be my second most memorable Mother's Day ever (the first involves vomit, diarrhea, the sugar bowl, and a toddler).