1.04 – Voces

Leslie D. Rodríguez Méndez

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THE RHYTHM OF CHRISTMAS – I remember being a little girl, really skinny, with long, black, straight hair. Sundays were the days when my dad would pile us all into his brown Buick and take us shopping in Mayagüez. By “us all,” I mean my father, my mother, my older brother, and me. On our way back to Cabo Rojo, we always stopped at my grandparents’ house. As we approached, I often found myself wishing my grandpa was home when we stopped. Often he wasn’t. It was because he was an artisan and spent many hours a day making musical instruments with his own hands and selling them in town. I think it was more like a hobby than work for him because he was very passionate about it and took a great deal of time to craft each instrument. He had many clients, especially...

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Isaac E. Ramos Oliveras

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THE “PILAR” OF MY FAMILY – The smell of a whole, roasted pig drifts through every corner of the house.  The house sits atop a cliff near Ciales River, so the air is chilly and comfortable. It’s New Years, 2008, and without fail my grandparents’ house is crowded with aunts, uncles, cousins, sisters and brothers and their kitchen is full of typical food like arroz con gandules, lechón asao’, pasteles de masa, morcillas (blood sausages,) and potato and macaroni salads, among others. This has been our typical gathering since I can remember, a house full of my many relatives and kids running around like crazy little animals. Then there’s my uncles and aunts playing at the many domino tables, each with a can of beer by their side. There is unnecessary...

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Nicole Alvarez

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ADA GARCIA MONTES: BRINGING BACK THE TRADITION THROUGH BEATING DRUMS – Ada García Montes dons a candy-apple red skirt in her living room-turned studio dance floor and swirls the cloth around her waist to the beat of bongos, guiros and cuatros, chanting “eh!” Her students follow suit, girls in long flowing cotton skirts over their gym clothes and sneakers and boys in shorts and breezy shirts. They twirl, percussive rhythms driving precise footwork, their images doubled by a wall of mirrors. The youths stare at their teacher’s reflection intensely, keeping their eyes on her fast moving feet. The dancers enjoy an audience, pride reflected in animated, wide-open smiles. It’s clearly an honor to be dancing the Puerto Rican bomba, plena, danza, seis and mazurka....

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Nicole Alvarez

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NIHILISTIC CULTURE: PUERTO RICO’S PUNK SCENE Thirty years after the Punk culture emerged in Britain amidst economic recession, Vivienne Westwood’s shocking Punk fashion associated with bright hair color, anarchy symbols, ripped clothing, spikes and military boots along with Punks edgy, anti-establishment music of the Ramones, Sex Pistols and the Clash has its own brand of angst-ridden revival on a tiny island in the Caribbean. A young journalist takes a trip underground to explore the Punk culture of Puerto Rico… Ricardo, Jackie and José are regulars at the track and field parking lot in Ramey Base. On social evenings, they go to the supermarket and buy a bottle of vodka to keep in the trunk of their car until they find an empty parking lot where they...

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Alina Quinones

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IT’S SHOWTIME! – Parking my car in the Parador Villa Parguera parking lot, I lock it and head in to the hotel. I walk all the way through the lobby and down the hallway to a door deep inside the building and away from guests. It’s been awhile since I have been here, but my hand turns the familiar knob of the dark, heavy door and as I push it open, I smell almonds. I pass down a short hallway, past a wedding picture on the wall of my uncle and his wife into a small living room with two flower sofas, a simple rocking chair and the television. A tiny round table sits near the sofa where my grandmother sets rare flowers for special occasions or when it’s empty, we rest our feet on it. It’s six o’ clock, and my grandparents are still awake. My grandfather...

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Erick Munoz Goyco

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                      REFLECTION ON SCHABEN –  A student (INGL 3238 Creative Writing) written, directed and produced dramatic play at UPRM Teatrito – Fall – 2006 – The truth we held on to when we discovered that a paper carries the next step in your journey… The silhouettes passing by as I sat beneath the morning sun to describe the art of a contemporary visionary… How we were asked to believe beyond belief to see the purest of hidden meanings waiting discovery… For a grade that was more important than objectively noting how we esthetically performed the approach…   The story could have been purposed to discover a more truthful definition of how we define our path… To find out...

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