TRES LECHES

I'm sitting on the balcony of the Posada San Jose - where I snag internet from the guy next door - tapping away on my computer keyboard. My landlady, Lupita, passes by and stops to chat. She's eating cake. We talk for a few moments, but with my singular eye for sweets, I'm more focused on what's on her plate. She notices.

"Quieres algo?" (Do you want some?)

"Sí," I answer.

She heads downstairs to the kitchen and returns shortly with a piece of vanilla cake with frosting. I take a bite. It's the creamiest cake I've ever eaten, absolutely delicious.

"What is this?" I ask.

"Pastel de tres leches." (Three milks cake)

"This is really good," I say.

Lupita asks me if I want to get one. I hesitate, because I know I'll eat the whole cake and tell her so. She says we can share it. So, I say, okay. A few days later Lupita appears at my door saying her daughter, Lana, is about to go to the 'pasteleria' (bakery) to get the cake. We split the cost.

Something I had thought a lot about in coming to Mexico was how I wanted to be addressed. Ron means 'rum' in Spanish, so I balked a bit at that. Originally, I wanted to go with 'Rinaldo,' the Italian version of Ronald, but the people here didn't get it. I'd say, 'Rinaldo;' (rin-al'-doe) they would hear, 'Renaldo.' (ray-nal'-doe). So, that didn't work. I briefly tried 'Ronald,' but it didn't have legs. By default, I have gone with 'Renaldo,' and it is working out fine.

Lupita gives me a shout when the cake arrives. It is a big cake soaked with this milk that not only makes it wonderfully rich, but also very weighty. From the stairs, I see Lana struggle to carry it from her truck to a table inside the inn. Lupita, a wide grin on her face, calls me over for a close look. By now, I know Lupita and Lana pretty well. Lana watches the inn during the day and Lupita lives here. We're around each other quite a bit and we talk fairly often. We get along well. I come down the stairs and walk over to the table holding the cake. Lupita takes my hand as I read the inscription written across the cake in bright green icing, "Feliz Cumpleaños, Leonardo!" (Happy Birthday, Leonard!) The date is March 1st. My birthday arrives in July. And the name...?

Of course, the skewed message makes it that much more touching and I am genuinely moved. Lupita, Lana and her two children, Victor and Valeria; and myself enjoy the cake over the next few days. Without correction, they address me as Renaldo.

Mexico, no hay dos.