Birthday Party

I believe I was the first mother on Bequia to throw a North American type of birthday party for my children; up until then balloons, party bags and games   were not a part of a birthday celebration, neither were written invitations.  When Vanessa turned five I decided she would have the kind of party I had     gone to as a small child, and while on vacation in Canada I bought party supplies.

I made a large chocolate cake for the event, and after pouring the batter into the pan I carefully inserted a quarter wrapped in waxed paper.  Although my mother had never done this I had been to parties where money had been baked into the cake, and the person who got the wrapped coin in his or her slice was considered lucky.  When the cake had cooled I decorated it with chocolate butter icing and wrote “Happy Birthday Vanessa” across the top.

The children arrived and were excited when they saw all the balloons.  I made the mistake of telling them they could each take one home after the party and they rushed to claim the one they wanted before the party had even begun.  Two of the boys grabbed the same balloon, and during the tug-of-war that ensued it burst, scaring the hell out of the poor little guys.

Teaching Bequians how to play musical chairs was a hoot.  All they needed to hear was that the person who claimed the last chair would win a prize and the war was on!  The game started gently enough, but as the chairs were removed it got pretty rough.  Those who missed out on a chair got dreadfully upset and tears were shed, while those remaining in the game started to shove their competitors out of the way. When it came down to the last two children, one of them plumped himself onto the chair while the music was still playing and refused to budge. The concept of fair play had flown out the window, musical chairs at that party boiled down to “dog-eat-dog”.

When it was time for the birthday cake I told the children about the money that was hidden in the cake, and that whoever got the wrapped coin would be considered lucky. As West Indians would say, “ef yo see cake fly”!  The children tore their slices apart looking for the coin and clamored for another piece so that they could keep looking, not bothering to taste the lovely chocolate cake I had slaved over the day before. They made a dreadful mess, cake and icing were everywhere, and I decided that in future all birthday parties would take place on a beach, and that every slice of cake would contain a wrapped coin!

Each child left the party that day carrying a party bag and a balloon, clothing dirtied by chocolate cake and juice stains. Although tears had been shed over a lack of chairs and a coin I think a good time was had by all!