It’s 6 p.m. and Elvis Hurtado is 10 feet off the carpeted floors of Jackson Hole Conference Center on scaffolding that creeks and clanks with each lean.
“You get used to it,” Hurtado said, knees wobbling.
He tapes each end of multicolored paper picado banners to the high ceilings, from the light fixtures to the walls. There are 140, that’s 280 pieces of tape.
His wife, Nidi Garcia, has also been inside all day directing Hurtado’s banner placement. The couple bought all the decorations to transform the drab room.
It’s commonplace for family and friends to share both the cost and workload of throwing a party for hundreds.
“They give us food and water,” Hurtado said, “so it compensates.”
Their cousin is Madeline Sanchez. Her quinceañera is less than 24 hours away. She’s nearby in the shadow of a stack of boxes, unwrapping ceramic table centerpieces.
In Latin American cultures, the ‘quinceañera,’ which literally translates to a 15-year-old girl, is a significant milestone moving from childhood to womanhood. A day after her birthday, freshly fifteen, Madeline says she’s feeling the insights that come with age.
“Ever since I turned 15, I have a different perspective,” she said. “When I see the world now, I feel like more mature and the more I grow up, I’m starting to realize, like, ‘hey, things are not gonna be the same as always.’”
Summer in the Tetons is “quince season.” Many say they happen every weekend between Jackson, Alpine and Victor. Madeline’s been to five since the snow melted.
While Hurtado, Garcia and other family members continue setting up hundreds of chairs, dozens of tables, smoke machines, speakers and such until 4 a.m. the next day, Madeline’s heading home early.
She wants to be well-rested for the biggest celebration of her young life the next day. She’s spent years thinking about it and months rehearsing.
“I would say [there have] been like some bumps. I’ve been nervous, but then I’m excited, but then, I’m nervous and I’m excited,” Madeline said.
“Can I get five minutes?”
The following night is all about the Sanchez family, and they’re busy.
Diego greets hundreds of friends and family at tables that fill the room. He’s been planning this day for over a year and takes phone call after phone call from cousins and caterers inside and out of the conference center.
“Can you give me five minutes?” he asked, waiving off an interview.
Mom Bertha waves hellos while running chairs from the dining area to the ballroom through the hallway where her daughter is pacing in a red dress big enough to fill a parking space.
His 11-year-old son, Edison, is nearby. He’s busy after visiting the 20-foot-long candy buffet. Come time for the first dances, around 8 p.m., and he’s quickly put into action as an announcer hushes the hundreds of guests. They haven’t left a single open seat. Many stand shoulder to shoulder along the walls.
As is custom, Madeline has a squad of tuxedoed “chambelanes,” teen boys, plus Edison, serving in her dance ensemble. The lights dim and the amplified announcer introduces each one by one at a near ear-bleeding decibel.
As Madeline and the boys shuffle into a formation, a slow serenade starts their first dance as lights shoot across the foggy room and sparks fly into the air behind them.
As Madeline and the boys shuffle into a formation, a slow serenade starts their first dance as lights shoot across the foggy room and sparks fly into the air behind them.
This is the first of four choreographed routines; the group has spent months practicing.
These dances, and the entire ceremony, are steeped in tradition. Between each dance are symbolic displays of the transition into womanhood, such as Madeline’s tennis shoes being replaced with heels. She’ll receive a doll from her knee-high niece, signifying her last toy and her parents. Diego, Berta and Edison will make a speech directly to her in front of all.
Madeline also works up the courage to lead a toast to everyone who helped tonight, from music and decorations to cake, drinks and plates and plates of food.
“Leaving a Tradition Behind”
Jacksonites Andrea Bulanos and Martha Herrera are a part of that toast. The close family friends put up decorations until midnight the night before.
Bulanos says as a little girl, she dreamed of a quince, as most do.
“The gown, the cake, the dance, and all of that,” Bulanos said.
But she never had one. Neither did Herrera.
More girls in Latin America are skipping the party, they said. Instead of an extravagant party, teens are requesting that money be spent on a new car or an expensive trip.
“We’re leaving a tradition behind,” Bulanos said. “If you go to Mexico right now, it’s very rare that you find a party like this.”
But that’s not what she’s seen in Jackson, where about a third of the population is Latino, most from Mexico.
You come to small towns like this and then you find your Latino community, they’re still sticking up for those traditions, which is very cool,” she said.
For Herrera, the parties are like a reunion.
“I love to be here [for these] Latino parties,” she said, “because we miss our country and this, at least for me, it’s like I feel like my family and my country are much closer.”
“We Have To Go To The End”
As midnight nears, Madeline declines another interview. She’s still “feeling busy,” she says, with one of the chambelanes attached to her hip as they make their way back into swinging, sweating attendees on the dance floor.
Diego has had a break from phone calls to enjoy the festivities. He steps on and off the dance floor and says, though tired, he’s happy.
“And my daughter, my wife, my son, everybody’s so happy,” he said.
As the bar begins closing up, the all-male family band from 40 miles south in Alpine shows no signs of slowing.
“We have to go to the end and the only [thing I] can say is thanks so much to everybody,” Diego said.
But some attendees begin filing out. He offers to call rides. Madeline’s still dancing.
“She’s my goal, she’s my princess forever,” Diego said, “she’s a really good daughter, and she’s a really good student, a really good person. I love my daughter.”
He’s lived in Jackson since his daughter was born 15 years ago. And though tonight’s focus is on her, the party is a display of a family, community and life he describes as “beautiful.”
