The Chicken Roundup

This post is definitely missing a great deal due to a lack of photos taken at the time of the event.  In fact, I had thought not to put it in here at all, simply because the description doesn't do it justice.  I decided I simply couldn't pass by this opportunity to tell such a fun story.  I think you'll see why I forgot to grab my camera as the story unfolds.

A few days ago I was listening to an audio book while I crocheted, minding my own business, when my doorbell rang.  When I answered the door there was a local woman (I later learned her name was Blanca) saying something very fast and, of course, in Spanish.  I had no clue what she was saying and tried to get that across to her but she was quite insistent that she needed me to understand.  She kept motioning with her hand what appeared to be an indication of "go over" as in something going over the roof or a fence or a mountain--I had no clue what.  Then I caught a word I recognized--"pollo," chicken.  She was also pointing down the hallway, perhaps to go to my apartment or, it suddenly struck me--out the back door to get the chicken that had gone over the wall between her yard an mine!

Off we went to the back yard.  We arrived just as her son (grandson?) was climbing over the wall on a ladder.  They were ushering the chicken from the far end of the yard closer to our common wall.  The woman kept gesturing to me to do something but I had no idea what the heck it was.  Again, after much gesturing and guessing, I realized she wanted me to turn my "courtyard" into a corral for the chicken. [When the building was built, there was a portion of the back foundation that wasn't taken down.  This is customary here.  It may provide a benefit at sometime in the future--you never know.]


I dashed in and closed the door leading into the building and opened the outer door wide.  Blanca and her son herded the chicken into the newly created corral where they were able to catch it.  As I walked Blanca out to the front door she had the chicken with its feet in her hands, tucked under her arm with its tail feathers sticking up in front and its head poking out from under her arm in the back.  Both chicken and Blanca seems quite content.

My take-away from this experience was how patient and gentle Blanca was with me.  She had no problem repeating what she needed in as many different ways as she could while I tried to keep up and interpret both words and pantomime and she did it with a smile on her face--a genuine smile.

Just a few photos to possibly help you get a slightly better perspective on the events.  If you're a regular follower of the blog, you'll likely recognize some of these.

The courtyard from my apartment window:

The view from the back door of the courtyard.

Also from the back door of the courtyard but you can see Blanca's wall over on the left.  That's where "wild pollo" made her break for freedom and where Blanca's son came over the wall to help round her up.

The rest of the back yard taken from very close to Blanca's wall.  You can see that is a mighty big area to try to corner and capture a chicken.