¿Sabes que es un asado?

Do you know what an asado is?

This was the question my friendly new office mates kept asking me. It was my first day at the office, and it just so happened they were planning a party for the next night. What luck! Well from what I gathered, an asado was some sort of party that involved eating meat. Chileans loooove their meat (Por ejemplo, I went to a restaurant yesterday for lunch and asked for vegetarian options. The waitress pointed to a salad with chicken on it). Anyway I was game for a party, as I always am. The people at my office are some of the nicest people Ive ever met, so I was sure it would be fun. I assumed it would be a tame, office party and I would get home in plenty of time to recount my second day of work to my chilean family. So when i realized I had forgotten my key to the house, I wasnt worried. My Señora is always home.

Well it took us about two hours after we finished work at 6 to arrive to the site of the asado. Nico joked that we wouldn´t be eating until at least 10:30. Turns out, this wasn´t a joke but a conservative estimation. We waited to gather together at the office for about 45 minutes, and then waited a half hour as Carolina went to the bank. Then we went to Elizabeths apartment for no reason that was aparent to me, until we finally made it to Pamelas house. Did I say house? I meant estate. The home I live in is very simple and small and the other houses I have seen in town do get bigger, but are mostly modest. Pamela lives outside of town in a beauuutiful house with a ton of land around it. The group was gathered around a HUGE beautiful tree that provided plenty of shade from the sun (it doesnt set until about 10pm or so).

I quickly understood why all of my friends were so alarmed when i said I wasnt too interested in eating meat. Honestly I{m stil unsure of what animal we were eating, but I think it was lamb. Either way the entire animal was layed out in the back of Renato´s truck and was put on a giant skewer over a giant fire. Yummm. The men positioned themselves around the meat and the women around a nearby bench. I went straight for the tree. It was perfect for climbing. When everyone noticed that I was having trouble getting up, a guy from the office offered to hoist me up. From the top I looked down on the scene before me. Everyone was laughing and taking pictures of me up in the tree. The women were drinking and laughing, and the men tending to the meat. Eventually when I came down I offered my services and help to turn the animal. It takes over an hour to cook the asado and I quickly realized I was not going to make it home anytime soon. Everyone quickly learned of my silly vegetarian tendancies and when I asked about salad, Rueben pointed to the sausages on the grill. Awesome. I made sure I at least had a ride (we were well outside of walking distance from town) and made several failed attempts to call home (using the phone isn´t as self explanatory as you might think). I had a few beers and went with it. I was pretty exhausted and uptight from trying desperately to understand everything that happened in our workshop that day. As I drank, I relaxed and my spanish came out with much more ease. ´

It was a great party. Everyone quickly learned to make plenty of jokes about me. I developed my first series of nicknames: la gringa, el Bronx, Sara. The one that I think will stick is Cereza, or cherry. Sarice is too difficult for anyone to say even when it is butchered with the chilean accent. By the end of the night I forgot completely I was at an office party. I taught english words, and people explained Chilean expressions. We passed the guitar around and had a group sing along. Renato played "knocking on heavens door" and made me sing. By 2am I was exhausted and anxious to get home. I hadn't talked to my Señora and wanted to get home to my bed. We all kissed and said goodnight. We were meeting in just a few hours at the office for the last day of our planning workshop for the new year. I succesfully navigated my friend to my home and admitted to those in the car that I didnt have my key. After ringing the doorbell for five minutes with no response, one girl in the car insisted that I come stay in her apartment, where she had an extra bed. I complied against my will. All I wanted to do was sleep.

I woke up the next morning determined to return to my casa. Unfortunately I couldn´t go until someone told me where I was. Much to my dismay I realized later I was a short walk away from home. Needless to say, I didn´t make it home. Instead I quiety had a cookie and tea for breakfast, and went straight to the office at 8:30. Extremely embarassed, we had to recount the story of my unsuccesful return home to all my tired and hung-over office mates. I smelled like meat, wine and sweat, and didnt get to brush my teeth. I was miserable. I calmed myself with the idea that I would go home for lunch and shower and eat with my family. I finally got through to Javier and explained my story. He laughed and told me to come home safely. I promised I would. Unfortunately, not as soon as I had hoped. We all piled in cars to go to Alejandro´s house for the day because the buildign we had been using was closed (it was Saturday!). 30 minutes later, we were in the country again. There was no way I was making it home for lunch. After some cookies and relaxing in the sun, I calmed down with the promise that we would finish at 4:30. The third day understood more, talked more and participated more than the first two. Plus, now I was comfortable with everyone. They were no longer strangers, but friends.

By the end of the day I was dying to get back and shower. I was definitely smelly. AFter finished a half hour after we said we would, I spent 15 minutes cleaning the dishes from the ice cream we had just finished. Finally it was time for Renato and I to head home. Of course I can take you, he offered, but we´ll stop for a beer first, alright? Sigh. I smiled and complied. One homemade beer (with about half the office) later, Renato finally took me home. I explained the whole story to my family with embarassment as they laughed. OF COURSE an asado goes until 2 in the morning. WHY did you forget your key? And finaly they gave me my new nickname: la gringa caretera, the partying northamerican.

Well. Por cierto, I know what an asado is now. Next time I´ll be prepared and bring some fruit in my pocket. And I´ll be sure to bring my key.