Birthday

For the third consecutive year I spent my birthday outside of the United States. My birthdays in 2007 and 2008 were very memorable considering the Guatemalan nuns can throw one hell of a birthday celebration. (in no way was that supposed to sound creepy and suggestive, but every time I reread it, it sounds bad - sorry). However, compared to the last two years of birthday celebrations which consisted of dancing nuns, spontaneous games of limbo, and elaborate paper clowns posted all over the walls, this year's birthday had its own assortment of odd happenings. This year, though, one significant difference was the location - Peru, which, provided for yet another new and exciting July 11th celebration.





Before I get into the details, though, I need to reveal some important facts about July 11.

- Top google searches for July 11, 2009: Alan Belcher's tattoo. What? Who? Exactly! Alan Belcher is an MMA fighter, who, apparently has a cool enough tattoo that it topped "certified auto recycling" and "Steve McNair funeral pictures" as the top google search of the day. And considering the popularity of the UFC and MMA fighting I'm not surprised that one of the fighter's tattoos had the top search query - no wonder most of the world hates Americans, our most popular sought-after piece of information is of a cage fighter's cool tattoo.

- The pact: I made a pact with one of my friends a few years ago, a friend that shares the same birthday as I, Drew, that we would spend our birthdays together for the rest of our lives... you know, like a dual-birthday-celebration-thing. Kill two birds with one stone. First of all, we all know that this pact is utterly ridiculous. Second of all, you should never make a pact after midnight in the musty confines of one of the finest establishment in all of Kansas City - Kelly's Westport Inn. Sounds like something that we all make fun of the morning after a long night out - "Hey Brian, remember last night when you agreed to ...(fill in the blank)... " By the way, considering the fact that I've been outside of the country the last three years in July, I have yet to share a birthday with Drew since that pact 3 years ago. I'm a horrible friend. Also, as a general rule of thumb, don't take the jello shots at Kelly's.

- 7-11: My fascination with my birthday having the same name as my favorite convenient store has been lost here in Peru. Peru doesn’t have 7-11 gas stations. Also, when they write the date they switch the day and the month. For example, in the US we write the date for July 11th, 1982 as: 7/11/1982. But, in Peru they would write it as: 11/7/1982. I can no longer conveniently remember my birthday by using a convenience store name.

Anyway, back to this year’s celebrations. The Friday before my birthday, I agreed to play soccer with some of my students after school. They've been asking me to play with them for a while, but for whatever reason Friday was the first day I was able to play all year. I've been giving them the impression that I have played as many soccer games as my little brother has read books. Which is to say - less than one. (And by the slight chance that Kyle is reading this, sorry brother, I love you). Before the game my teammates were kind enough to give me the basic rules of soccer... protect our goal, try to put the ball in the opponents goal, stay in certain positions on the field, etc. It was a fun little trick because they weren't expecting that I actually knew how to play. My teammates were pleasantly surprised by the fact that I scored the first goal within a few minutes of the start of the game. Teachers and students alike, walking out of school, were stopping by the game to watch the Gringo play against the South American boys. Really, I think they were amazed at how pale I am rather than watching me play soccer. The principal actually stopped by and was in complete shock (in a good way). After the game he said, "Brian, where did you learn how to play soccer?" I said, "Well, in Kansas City, where I'm from." After a few seconds of bewilderment he responded with, "But who did you play with? The Mexicans?" At that moment I was thinking, 'thank god for putting me into these awkward conversations on a daily basis... its giving me good practice for my future career of Awkward Silence Elevator Operator'. I explained to him that although the United States is not well known for soccer, there are still a select few that play. While I'm explaining this to him I'm screaming in my head "The U.S. JUST BEAT SPAIN... THE NUMBER 1 TEAM IN THE WORLD! THE LAST PERU WORLD CUP OR OLYMPIC APPEARANCE WAS BEFORE I WAS BORN!!!" ...and other various nerdy soccer references. He thought that it was great that I was playing with the students and was surprised that I would agree to do so. Points for Brian. For a random Friday afternoon, it was a great time. I hope to do it again soon.

After the soccer game was over I quickly got cleaned up to go to Lucia's parent's 25 Wedding Anniversary mass. Immediately following the mass was a celebratory meet and greet with the family. Shortly after the meet and greet Lucia's parents were on a flight to Boston to celebrate. And shortly after midnight on July 11, while Lucia’s parents were enjoying the luxuries that only coach airline seats can provide, I was enjoying some birthday sushi with Lucia’s brothers and sister. You might be wondering about the difference between birthday sushi and normal sushi? Well, really, nothing. Except that you eat birthday sushi on your birthday… and you eat normal sushi on days that don’t fall on your birthday. Keep up people.

Moving on... July 11, 2009. Jim Gaffigan, my favorite comedian, has a famous joke about eating breakfast in bed. He says, “That is a fantasy, because it gives you the option of going back to sleep when you're done.”. Why do I bring up this joke? Well, besides the fact that Jim Gaffigan is quite possibly the funniest man alive and I insert his jokes in daily conversations and claim them as my own, I tried to take his advice, kind of. I woke up on my birthday around 8:30am, had some toast and cereal, then went back to sleep for a couple more hours. It is a great feeling, especially for those who never really get a chance to sleep-in or enjoy the wonders that sleep and rest can bring into your life. (Just for fun, another Jim Gaffigan joke – “My wife is always like, ‘Why don’t you ever make the bed?’ Uh, for the same reason I don’t tie my shoes after I take them off: It doesn’t make sense!” You can check out the youtube videos here.).

After my second wake up of the day, Lucia and I went to Downtown Lima to the famous Hotel Bolivar. Apparently, that’s the place to go to taste the best of Peru’s traditional alcoholic beverage, the Pisco Sour. The hotel was incredible – a true “back in time” experience sitting in the middle of the traffic-littered downtown area. However, the pisco sours were nothing special. The drink is like an ultra-sweet, frozen lemonade that you get at the Royals games… except its melted and has alcohol in it. You can drink one and enjoy it, but don’t push it by drinking two or three – your stomach will hate you. I was happy though; I fulfilled my mission of “day drinking” at the Hotel. As you can tell, I’m easily amused.

From Hotel Bolivar I went to the tourist district of Miraflores. I enjoyed the rest of my birthday at a bar called The Jazz Zone. The night was a great night for cover bands. We first watched a Rolling Stones cover band then followed by a Beatles cover band. “Are we in the right place?” The Jazz Zone seems to be more like a cover band wonderland than a mild-mannered jazz hang-out. Whatever the circumstances were, I had a great time. Then, the icing on the cake happened after a trip to the bathroom (one too many Pisco Sours… hahahaha, joking). I was walking out of the bathroom and noticed a large photo on the wall. I recognized the English in the photo. In the photo were two guys holding guitars and standing under a street sign. The street sign read, “18th St” and the cross section read “Vine St.”. Whoa! Dude. Kansas City! I looked at the lower part of the photo and it read, “Kansas City, MO 1960”. How cool, I thought to myself. I was at a random bar in Lima, Peru and they have a picture of small district of my hometown. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a picture… of the picture…, but still, it was an interesting find. Again, I'm easily amused.

What a great birthday. The one thing missing was not the nuns, not the spontaneous games of Limbo, and no… not the clowns. I definitely missed my family - My mom and dad… my sister Teresa (and Jason), my brothers Kyle and Joe, the dogs… my extended family of aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends. And of course the people whom I consider my second family – basically I’m talking about all of my friends that know where we keep the beer in “Grandma’s house”. “How dare you put beer in the kitchen. It goes downstairs in the beer fridge.” (For those of you that don’t know… Grandma’s house is the house I lived in for 3 years in Kansas City). Being away from the world that I know in the states has given me the opportunity to experience new places, people and events that I never thought were out there. So, regardless of the fact that I’m on a different continent than that of my family and friends, I can still say that I had a great, clown-free birthday.

I love all of you - you know who you are.

-Brian