jueves, 23 de septiembre de 2010

Traits and memories‏

Muchas pueden ser las razones de un hombre para sentir orgullo. Pero el orgullo es un sentimiento propio difícil de compartir. Tan propias, individuales y únicas como el hombre mismo. De lo que alguien podría sentir orgullo, podría yo sentir vergüenza - o viceversa-.

Hace unos días leía yo una carta que mi hija mayor (16) le escribió a una de sus primas (11) quien vive en el extranjero – para mi EEUU es el extranjero, para otros tal vez no – creo que como parte de una asignación de mi sobrina y ahijada. No pude menos que sentir un profundo orgullo como padre por lo que leí y que, con permiso de la autora, comparto con ustedes.





                                                                                                                              August 31st, 2010


Dear Pao:


As a cousin I’m obligated to love you, but the truth is that with you it isn’t hard. Your personality is one of the best I know. You are funny, smart, caring and creative. Sometimes you’re a little shy, but give you a couple of minutes, and you’re that bomb they used to send us every summer, the entire summer. You’ve gotten older, but it’s almost same old Paola. The girl who loves sports and loves to laugh, like a hyena might I add. I have many memories with you and Clau.


I remember summer of 2001. I turned 7-years-old that summer. We spent the entire summer in Arlington and Dallas. We even got stuck in Dallas thanks to a volcano eruption. The day we were supposed to leave we went to the airport and had to go back to the apartment. When you got back from summer camp, we were hiding in Titi’s room and in the fireplace the next day when it happened again. We had so much fun. We went to the pool, we went to Chuck E. Cheeses, and we even went house-hunting. I haven’t forgotten the day we had rice and bean for breakfast, pancakes for dinner, and chocolate chip cookies for dessert.


The memories of Christmas of 2003 are unforgettable. We arrived at Dallas on Christmas morning. We had a lot of fun. I remember one day we went out and there was a storm going on! That day was the best! We woke up, ate breakfast, and got dressed. We visited a kid’s museum, I think; later that day we went to Chuck E. Cheeses. We even had lunch in ___(I don’t remember the name, maybe tio does.. it a BBQ place, very texas-y)___. Later during that vacation we traveled eight hours just to see snow! We had a snowball fight with dad, while mom made a puny snowman.


The summer that same year a miracle happened. You guys were in Disneyland when Titi decides she will visit a California hospital. Tio brought you to Puerto Rico the next day, and left the same. You spent almost three months in Puerto Rico! When you got here we hadn’t even finished finals. And you left our second day of back-to-school. Fabiola was born June 4th. Now that summer was great. You were always at our house, and we did so much, because we could. You even got and ear infection! We took you to the doctor; that pillow case has never been the same. Want a picture?? Once again, we went to the traditional Chuck E. Cheeses. We did so much, I can’t remember everything. I know we saw Mean Girls (worst mistake of our lives) and I know we went to La Parguera for my birthday. I know we went to the beach, and I know Emma sent you a letter that said: “Hi Paola! I hope you’re having fun in porto rico!”


Ever since that summer you and Fabi have come to Puerto Rico. Sometimes a month, sometimes a week. The important thing is that you do come, and that you have to remember that we won’t always be able to do the great things we did when we were little. Things were cheaper, and our lives were easier. I remember the summer when Fabi first came. You couldn’t leave her sight! You were so tired, and so was I. Fabi’s first sleepover at our house was that summer. We gave grandma a break and let mom take care of the baby. Things have changed.


I also remember the time when Nathy, Lulu, Kevin and Willito didn’t want us to spend time with you during Christmas Eve because “[we] were with [you] for three weeks, and the day she left [we] weren’t there. I got so mad. I always did. It wasn’t my fault. We always let you decide what you want to do; whether it is staying here or there... although it never seems to be Willito.


My next memories travel to the summer of 2007. It was the first time I traveled alone, kind of. Abuelo and abuela took a plane with me to Dallas, and then after about an hour, they left to meet with Titi Angie in California. I spent three week in Allen. I remember the day we celebrated my birthday. We ate breakfast at IHOP, if I’m not mistaken, or some other pancake house. Then we went to the pool by your house, and ate dinner at the Oriental place where they cook the food in front of you and put out the fire with the ‘peeing’ fireman. We went to the Allen Natatorium and to the movies to see Nancy Drew. Do you remember the sleepover? You, Lauren and I had so much fun. We spent 48 hour together. First we had a BBQ at Lauren’s house, and then we stayed over, you and me. The next day she stayed over at your house. I remember it was a Saturday because we were watching the DC Games on Disney Channel. And we froze Fabi’s panties.


The last summers have been a bit different, we can’t do as much and things have become more difficult. But remember one thing. We are always here, and we are waiting, but we have to get on with our lives. We won’t always be able to do the great things we once did. But I’m sure we can still do things. Whether it’s watching a movie on the sofa, playing Smash and Guitar Hero, or simply staying at home doing nothing, we can always come up with things to do. We won’t know what we will be doing, but we always end up having fun. We can go to the beach, or hop on the car and drive to San Juan to go to Plaza or to Titi Lourdes’ house. Remember one thing: times have changed, but fun doesn’t have to go away. We have to find fun or make our own. Remember those times. And know that with your laugh, Clau’s weirdness, Fabi’s fabiness, and our creativity, the sky is the limit.






Love,


Luisa María


De alguna forma, creo que muchos nos identificamos con esas historias. Cambiaran los lugares, los personajes, lo que comimos, los juegos y las maldades, pero el recuerdo de gratos momentos con mis primos esta siempre presente. Y aunque, “things have become more difficult”, aquí estamos luchando por que “the sky is the limit”.

jueves, 2 de septiembre de 2010

As I.S.

Renunció el enfermizo príncipe a su trono para casarse, cumpliendo el sueño de toda niña y de aquella bella cubana de Sagua que había conocido en un hospital en Suiza. Aunque este hecho, no significaba que fuera a vivir por siempre feliz…

Realmente se dan en la vida historias que parecen de novela. Historias que me intrigan. Pero mas me intrigan las razones para mantenerlas ocultas. Razones que no cuestiono, y aunque desconozco, debo respetar. Me lamento grandemente por no haber compartido más tiempo con mi abuela, Ignacia Sampedro por muchas razones que no vienen al caso. Más sin embargo, me consuela el que, la conocí lo suficiente como para amarla.

Pisaba ella la cocina para servirse o para que le sirvieran. No tenia amor por la cocina, pero si por la comida.

Disfrutaba yo de niño verla comerse un mango con cuchara, un emparedado con tenedor y cuchillo o tardar una hora degustando un pedazo de biscocho. Amaba el arte, sobretodo la pintura. Me ofreció un caballo y cumplió su promesa pintándome uno. Dudo que haya cambiado algún pañal en su vida, pero no dudo que haya cambiado muchas vidas. Defendió su espacio con uñas y dientes. Escribió en el ocaso de su vida inspirada por la nostalgia, la misma que me inspira desde que murió su hijo menor. Herede de ella su colección de sellos y un aire de aristócrata que a veces me embarga y que intento controlar.

No conocí ninguna receta de plato alguno cocinado por ella, pero conozco la de los frijoles negros que tanto le gustaban. Tres paquetes de frijoles en agua desde la noche anterior. Una botella de aceite de oliva, un pimiento verde, una cebolla grande, una cabeza de ajo, dos cucharadas de azúcar, par de hojas de laurel. Hervir todo junto hasta que estén blandos. Una cucharada de vinagre le añadiría su hijo antes de servir.

Dos años mas tarde habría terminado aquel tan sonado matrimonio y dos dictaduras acechaban a sus respectivos países.