Albuquerque and Surrounding Communities (10)

Wednesday, 04 November 2020 18:52

New Mexico State Fair in the 1950s

Contributed by

Remember in Albuquerque how we anxiously awaited the Annual NM State Fair which was held on the State Fair Grounds? A parade was held the Saturday before the fair started with high school bands playing; lots of drill squads; cowboys riding horses; colorful floats, and happy children sitting on the curbs at awe with what they saw! We had no Ballon Fiestas in those yesteryears! Those fiestas came many, many years later! We started early to decide what to wear to the fair! I really should say, our mothers had to decide what we would wear to the fair! We had to have a pair of cowboy boots; a pair of Levis; a Western shirt or crisp white shirt; a concho belt to wear with our Levis, and finally a cowboy hat. My mother was a fanatic when it came to everything being clean...our clothing, our home, everything! Grandma use to say "no matter if you are poor, you must always wear clean clothes"! We do whatever mothers and grandmothers want! Right! Anyway that is how we were raised! My job was to take care of my siblings when we went to the fair! We visited the stables where the horses were kept, the pigs, roosters, and basically went to as many places that we could which also included the many pavilions that were strategically places throughout the fair grounds. My favorite pavilions were the ones that had all the beautiful flowers and the Arts and Crafts displays! We ate Indian fried bread with lots of honey; corndogs, and ice cream on a stick. Now remember! In those years you had lots of money to spend if you had two dollars to take to the fair! We finished up the day by going to the amusement park where I always tried to win a gold fish! Some years I did and other years I did not! Would have been cheaper to buy one, but why miss out on the fun! It would have ruin my day. Those darn fishes never lived very long in those days! Maybe I overfed them, I am thinking now! All in all we had a great time and went home happy with a special memory of spending a great day together as a family! Slept pretty good that night too!

Wednesday, 16 October 2019 01:01

Don Ambrosio Armijo's Roof - By Paula Vallejos

Contributed by

“October 16. The century and year of 1898 (?) this roof was built by Don Ambrosio Armijo.”

If you’ve never seen this before it’s in Albuquerque's Old Town, just before you go into the Gorilla Graphix store. Look up. It’s very cool.

Friday, 20 September 2019 16:16

Don Francisco, the interpreter - by Chris Baca

Contributed by

Storytelling Time

When I was a little kid, maybe 5-7 years old, my father would entertain the family after supper by telling us stories of his growing up years in Las Nutrias. We’d sit around in the kitchen table after it had been cleaned up and and listen to him spin his tales. Usually, he’d be sipping a cup of coffee and was totally relaxed. The kitchen would be nice and warm because the old stove was still giving out heat from the lleña that had helped cook my mom’s delicious meal including freshly rolled tortillas. The yummy smells of the recent meal still lingered in the air.

In between sips of coffee he would begin the story. My favorite one was about a pompous villager who would like to lord his command of the English language over the less capable English speakers from Las Nutrias. This must have been around 1910 or so. In those days few people spoke English as Spanish had been spoken in the area since the late 1600s. The area had been settled after the reconquista of New Mexico. In any case, Don Francisco (the “smartest man” in the community) would strut around the village blurting out phrases in
English and asking “Saben lo que yo dije?” “Do you know what I just said?” Of course, no one did. They would shake their heads “No!” He would snort out “Pues es porque yo se mas que ustedes.” “Well, it’s because I know more than you do.” He would strut away with his chin in the air having once again asserted his superior knowledge over the commoners of the little village.

Well, one day, one of the revered elders of the village, Don Tomas Baca, got ill and the curanderas weren’t able to cure him. So it was decided that he had to be taken to the town of Belen to see the only doctor in the area. The young doctor only spoke English. This was about 15 miles away and he had to be driven there in a buckboard. Don Francisco, the most “competent” English speaker, was assigned to go with Don Tomas to interpret for him.

Once they got there Don Tomas began to be examined by the doctor and Don Francisco has to explain to the patient and doctor what was being said. “What are your symptoms?” “Tengo un dolor aquí,”. and pointed to his stomach. “I have a pain here.” Except Don Francisco interpreted “dolor” or “pain” as “dollar”. The doctor was astonished “He has a dollar there?” Yes, nodded Don Francisco. “Did he swallow a coin?” “El médico quiere saber si usted se comió una dolar de plata?” Don Tomas was confused “Este médico no sabe
nada. Esta loco! Que tipo de medico es este? De caballos?” “This doctor doesn’t know anything. He’s crazy! What is he? A horse doctor?” The doctor continued his examination and told Don Francisco to tell Don Tomas to take off his clothes. The old man was hesitant but he was in a lot of pain so he disrobed and the doctor began poking and probing still wondering why Don Tomas had  swallowed a silver dollar. He worked his way down to his nether region and told him he was going to check for a hernia and needed to check his groin. “El médico piensa que tiene algo mal con sus huevos!” Don Tomas was frantic. What could possibly be wrong with his balls. Yes, they had shriveled a bit with age but they were quite functional in his mind. However, because he was in such pain he conceded to the request and the doctor asked Don Francisco to tell Don Tomas to turn his head and cough. “Que me está diciendo? No quiero que me toque los huevos!” “What is he saying? I don’t want him to touch my balls!” Don Francisco misinterprets cough as coffee so he says “Se me hace que le dice que toma mucho café!” “I think the doctor is telling you that you drink too much coffee.
Apparently, he can tell your drinking too much coffee by the weight of your balls!”

By then we were all laughing, tears rolling down our eyes. My dad would end the story by saying “Se le acabó el Ingles a ese pendejo, Don Francisco!” In essence “Don Francisco, the dumb ass, ran out of English!”

Obviously the pompous Don Francisco got his comeuppance when he got back to the village somewhat chagrined that he wasn’t as fluent in English as he thought. And Don Tomas was angry because he had been “manhandled” and couldn’t drink coffee anymore.

Story telling was and is an art form. My dad was an awesome story teller. We didn’t have a radio or TV so he was our entertainment.

Page 1 of 3

Additional information