Una mañana in mid-autumn, grampo and Canutito were out walking alrededor de la plaza. Suddenly un poster caught Canutito's eye.

"¿Qué dice ese poster, grampo?" he asked, eyeing the drawing of Wonder Woman y de la Olive Oil.

"Pus, I'm not sure, m'hijo," grampo replied uneasily. "Parece que es un poster anunciando some kind of an evento cultural. Dice que mañana there is to be un 'mud wrestling contest' allá en una vega of some sort. Izque los proceeds son pa' charity."

"Uh grampo," began the little boy curiously, "¿qué es mud wrestling?"

"Tú sabes, m'hijo," said grampo. "Es un contest donde the men wrestle and grab at each other en el zoquete and it is all for a good cause."

"Pero grampo," continued Canutito, "Why are there only women en el poster?"

"Pus, I'm not sure, m'hijo," grampo replied. "Yo creyo que maybe perhaps porque the women are going make los adobes con el mud afterwards!"

"That sounds muy reasonable, grampo," Canutito went on. "I didn't know que las mujeres also made adobes. Was Grama Cuca ever una mud wrestler?"

"Uuu, m'hijo," Grampo Caralampio exclaimed as he reminisced, "When I met your grama, she was making mud with the best of las mushashas. She would dance en el zoqueque, mixing the mud with her big ole patas. She would then dance the straw into the adobe mud como as if she was bailando una polka. She used to parecer just como esa Olive Oil en el poster."

"Did grama ever look como la Wonder Woman, grampo?" Canutito asked, looking at the curvaceous mujer on the poster.

"Pus I wouldn't say que tu grama ever quite looked como la Wonder Woman pero to me she looked más como la Carmen Miranda."

"Wasn't she la mujer who used to wear fruit en la cabeza, grampo?" asked Canutito.

"¡Oh sí, m'hijo!" grampo exclaimed. "In my day she was muy hot!"

"Grampo," Canutito pressed on, "Do you think que you could take me to see los mud wrestlers mañana? I want to see cómo el adobe is made."

The following evening, Grampo Caralampio and Canutito walked over pa'l sitio donde el mud wrestling was to take place. The minute they walked in and saw that it was only mushashas wrestling con mushashas como marranitas in the mud and wearing muy poco, Grampo Caralampio knew that he shouldn't have brought al muchachito pa'acá.

"Vamos, m'hijo," said grampo quickly, as he sneaked a peek at a wrestler. "Your grama would skin me alive si ella supiera que I had brought you here."

Canutito was fascinated, though, watching the girls slithering around el zoquete. "It looks como que they are having muncho fon, grampo," he said, straining to see better.

"¡Ay Dios mío!" exclaimed grampo when una mud wrestler came forward en pañales menores and all the men sitting around arriba de una tapia cheered. Canutito's eyes were riveted en el espectáculo.

"Uh, grampo," he exclaimed todo excitão, "this sure is an interesting way to make adobes!"

"This is not exactly what I meant when I told you que tu grama wrestled with mud," grampo said, excusing himself quickly. She never wore esas mugritas that the women have on."

"I guess que the approach to adobe wrestling has changed mucho since your day, no grampo?" the little boy asked.

"Oh, you have no idea!" grampo replied, running a finger under his collar. "Nowadays tengo que ir a confesarme afterwards and say 'bless me father for I have sinned; I saw mushashas become human adobes'..."



¿Le gustaría compartir sus propias anécdotas o comentar con Torres sobre esta columna? Envíele un correo electrónico a lartor@unm.edu