My first Fiesta at the ranch.

 In celebration of having the house finished, and the gardens and orchards not only planted, but thriving, I had a little fiesta today on a Sunday afternoon.  All of my co-workers have families that have been very curious about what their husbands have been doing here.  As I've said, I'm a bit of a curiosity with the local pueblo Mayans because some of my farming and agricultural techniques are not exactly Mayan orthodox, plus I'm the only non-Mayan anywhere near the pueblo or in the village.

It was funny though with the group who turned out.  I've got 5 full time guys and 2 part time very young helpers. The 2 p/t have only been working for a few weeks and this week will be their last for a while.  

I told the 5 guys who have been with me from the start, that they could all bring their spouses, and their children, and grandchildren if they had any.  Then I also added, if they had a very close family member that they wanted to also bring, that was fine.  It was planned for Sunday at 2 pm.  I thought maybe we might have 20 or 25 people who would attend.

At about 12:30 I was still in the house fixing food for everyone. I had a good friend, and partner who was helping me in the kitchen.  And I did have a man coming from the pueblo to bring, and BBQ, 25 whole chickens.  We were making stuffed chilis, and refried beans, and other stuff.  I heard some noise outside and went out and looked (90 minutes before starting time) and there were already about 15 people of all ages standing around and roaming around and looking the place over.  However, I did not know any of them.   Not a one.  

I went back in and just left them to roam around, and I kept preparing food.  About 1:30 I went out and the crowd had grown to about 40 and yet none of my guys were in the crowd.  I thought maybe someone had accidentally posted a notice in the pueblo "free food" or something but decided to not fret about it.   A few minutes later one of my guys knocked on the door and came in to help out and then the others showed up.

In the end, there were 65 people who came who were spouses, and children, and grandchildren, and nieces, and nephews and aunts and uncles.  Apparently, my guys could not limit the scope of their invitations and were so proud of their work, they wanted many of their family members to see it to.  

I had ordered 25 whole chickens, expecting 25 people and kids to attend.  I thought that way I'd have no one leave hungry and could send food home with all.  It ended up that we fed the entire crowd and still had a few birds left over.   

I planned on the first 30 minutes just being sort of a get acquainted time, but it was surprisingly, deafly quiet. Everyone was just standing around clustered in their individual family units.  I asked Shirley (my Mayan teacher) why everyone was so quiet and just standing around.  Apparently, none of these people had ever (literally never) been in the presence of a gringo. She told me that none of them, and probably very few in the pueblo, had ever known a white man, and they weren't sure exactly what they were supposed, or allowed, to do at the home of a white man.  (White man was the term Shirley said they called me).   Couple this with what I've previously written, that because of my amazing agricultural results, my 5 guys and their families all think of me as being sort of a holy man with big JuJu magic.  (I do my best to try and dissuade them of this idea, but it still is the persona they have given me).  

After looking around I counted about 20 little kids that were probably under 1m tall and under the age of 7.  They were as quiet as the adults were and just looking at me like I was some alien or Holy Man.  All of the kids were staring at me, and at the pool.  So?  I just took off my shoes and jumped in the pool with my shirt on and started splashing all the kids.  I'm sure they must have thought for a moment "white men really are crazy?"  In about 60 seconds though, I had all of the kids in the pool also and there was laughing and giggling and happiness, like all children bring to any event.  The ice was broken, and it was Fiesta Time.  

The chicken cook got out a PA speaker and started playing Mariachi band fiesta music and the party began.   It was one of the most fun events I've ever been to, and certainly as fun as any party I've ever organized myself. 

I'll post a few photos, but suffice it to say, almost everyone wanted to have a photo opportunity with Don Bud!   I wish I could have been a fly on the wall in their homes that night to have heard what they had to say about the JuJu Magic man.   The first photo is me and my co-workers.  Salvador, my foreman is to my right.

This is Salvador's wife and his granddaughter.  I went to try and pick her up from her mother to hold her and she just came right to me and shadowed me almost the whole time.  Like all the others, a white man to her was a brand new experience.

Since I didn't know ahead of time the swimming skills any of the kids might have, I lowered the water level to 1m so all would be safe.  There were still doing cannonballs off the sides and screaming with delight.

My cook, Senor Gustavo, from the pueblo.

Below is my primary building material supplier.  He came with his wife and children, and I'd have to say, he's the one person from the pueblo that I've become true friends with.  We get along well together, and with Google translate, surprising, have many interesting discussions.  His name is Don Enrri.

Salvador and wife, daughter and son, and on the far-right Shirley, my Mayan teacher and translator and her mom in the Mayan Ippi blouse.

At the end of the fiesta, as people started leaving, it dawned on me that there were only 3 vehicles.  I could see them walking away and Salvador told me that almost all of them had walked the 2.7km from the pueblo to come to the fiesta.