Thank you Beth for starting This part of the blog : )
Labor Day 2001, what was supposed to be just another barbeque turned into the beginning of Pech family history.
Enrique and I had a mutual friend (who was actually introduced to me, by my boyfriend at that time) who insisted on us meeting. She and her mother had talked about an arrangement for several weeks but it wasn't until September 1st that the opportunity arrose.
I'll let Enrique write his side later but what I knew was that my friend called him at the last minute and Enrique said he'd "stop by".
My first impression was that he was timid, but I loved it because he listened to everything I said and talked a lot himself after a while ( Though, In a very heavy accent : ). I loved hearing about The Yucatan (which he pronouced Ju-Ka-Tahn) and his little home town of Muna, his family of six brothers and one sister, his CHI-CHI NE (Grandmother Enelia) and his mischevious boyhood adventures. He had the tenderness of my Grandfather Muntz in his eyes and told stories like my father.
At the end of the evening ,after charcoling the meat in the barbeque (yes we forgot to check on it) and talking for 4 hours , he left me with a book on the Yucatan.
If it hadn't been for that book, I would have never seen him again... To be continued.
Labor Day 2001, what was supposed to be just another barbeque turned into the beginning of Pech family history.
Enrique and I had a mutual friend (who was actually introduced to me, by my boyfriend at that time) who insisted on us meeting. She and her mother had talked about an arrangement for several weeks but it wasn't until September 1st that the opportunity arrose.
I'll let Enrique write his side later but what I knew was that my friend called him at the last minute and Enrique said he'd "stop by".
My first impression was that he was timid, but I loved it because he listened to everything I said and talked a lot himself after a while ( Though, In a very heavy accent : ). I loved hearing about The Yucatan (which he pronouced Ju-Ka-Tahn) and his little home town of Muna, his family of six brothers and one sister, his CHI-CHI NE (Grandmother Enelia) and his mischevious boyhood adventures. He had the tenderness of my Grandfather Muntz in his eyes and told stories like my father.
At the end of the evening ,after charcoling the meat in the barbeque (yes we forgot to check on it) and talking for 4 hours , he left me with a book on the Yucatan.
If it hadn't been for that book, I would have never seen him again... To be continued.
1 comment:
Oh Evie... I love your story. I never knew about the napkin!
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