Last week, our village celebrated its annual fair in honor of St. Peter, our patron saint. The event was a blast, especially the beauty pageant. With over 3,000 residents, only four young ladies were brave enough to participate. One seemed so reluctant, it was like her parents forced her into it. My boyfriend (BF) was one of the judges, and I was lucky to have a front-row seat right behind him.
The event was scheduled to start at 7 PM, so we arrived promptly. The music was deafening, so we took a brief escape until the show officially kicked off around 8:30 PM and lasted well past midnight. The girls gave it their all, and their performances were endearing. However, during the costume changes, an overly enthusiastic cowboy provided musical interludes that were quite hard to endure. I recorded short clips of him, and we suffered through five hours of his act.
Despite being in the front row, we could feel the villagers’ dislike for the cowboy singer. Every time he asked if they wanted another song, the silence was deafening. Yet, he continued, maybe because he was paid per song, even when the contestants were ready to proceed with the pageant.
When the show resumed, the girls first showcased traditional local dresses, followed by a cowgirl-themed dance routine, which seemed like a substitute for a swimsuit segment since their parents did not permit that. My favorite part was their flamboyant costumes inspired by Mayan culture; it felt festive and original. The show was so captivating that some people watched through the windows for the entire five hours.
The final segment had the girls donning evening gowns, delivering short speeches, and answering questions. Though their speeches were rote and rehearsed, their inexperience made them endearing and authentic. Their dreams were modest—one aspired to be a secretary, another an accountant, and they enjoyed simple pastimes like listening to music and reading. Hen soup was a favorite dish. Despite having rehearsed the questions, speaking publicly for the first time was a big challenge, and they did well.
It was a unique blend of American-style pageantry, local traditions, and loud music. Suddenly, four boys appeared, dancing to a Spanish cover of “Lady in Red,” unexpectedly competing for the first-ever Mister San Pedro title. They handled it impressively.
Last year’s queen crowned the new queen while a Spanish cover of “My Heart Will Go On” played. Interestingly, the new queen’s boyfriend became the king.
The festivities continued for four more days. One major event was the “pato encebado,” where villagers try to tear off a duck’s head while on horseback. The winner takes home the headless duck for lunch. The fair wouldn’t be complete without a rodeo.
The bulls were ready for action. Northern Guatemala often resembles the Wild West with cowboys, cattle breeders, and loosely enforced laws. Though it’s illegal to openly carry guns, people do so with ample ammunition, even at a soccer game. Anticipating chaos, we left before the drunken revelry and gunfire began.
At 5:30 PM, the postponed 2 PM rodeo finally started. Bullfighters said a quick prayer before mounting their bulls. The show also featured a lookalike of a Mexican singer, more dances, live performers, and typical fair stalls. I was amazed by the scale of the event for our small village.
We used the fair to mingle with more villagers, introduce ourselves, and discuss our land development plans. As one of the beauty pageant judges, BF became quite the local celebrity, making it amusing when strangers warmly greeted him on the streets or invited us to meals.
So, how was your week?