Chapter 1 – AZÚCAR

– For every teaspoon of sweet you get two teaspoons of bitter. Grandpa Mongar  –

Keyla Sepúlveda Ramos

Posted by on Apr 5, 2012 in 1.01 - Azúcar | 14 comments

Keyla Sepúlveda Ramos

  TECHNICOLOR WASTELAND – Here, every month is cruel. Sugar cane fields forgotten, like scenes of a movie past. A Technicolor wasteland. To an outsider it might look like paradise, To me, nothing new worth seeing. Anger and pain triggered the change, destroying the dream of how great it had been. The sugarcane started the fire. As if nature became a weapon, against itself. Creeping through the wind, I saw soft yellows and dark reds. Sun setting closely upon leaves, hot to the touch and painful to the heart. Sundown through the...

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Samuel Morales Cotto

Posted by on Apr 3, 2012 in 1.01 - Azúcar | 4 comments

Samuel Morales Cotto

  SITUATION: THE LIFE OF DON MORALES – Poor Foolish old mama, don’t you understand that is the way of life? Yesterday I cried for one, so today I must laugh for another. Luigi Pirandello – Photographs tell a story by freezing the moment; the gestures, the feelings and all that forms the present and transforms the future; something that one can see, like a yesterday in a tomorrow. Two pictures. No ages. A different hat and background. The same attitude. The same posture. I didn’t know my grandfather, no one did. But I...

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Solmarie Pérez Velázquez

Posted by on Mar 18, 2012 in 1.01 - Azúcar | 1 comment

Solmarie Pérez Velázquez

  MEREJO – 1. 1944 Hermenejildo “Merejo” Pérez woke up and ran to the bakery. It was yet another day he had to find money to live. He was an orphan, or at least that is what it seemed. But now, he was ten-years-old and could fend for himself, he thought as he handed the baker ten cents for a bag of peanuts. He also bought a newspaper to wrap the peanuts in. Then the tall, lanky boy sat outside the bakery and began wrapping peanuts inside the newspaper. He had to hurry if he wanted to catch the morning traffic. Once finished, he...

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Mariana L. Arroyo Ortega

Posted by on Mar 18, 2012 in 1.01 - Azúcar | 4 comments

Mariana L. Arroyo Ortega

ENRIQUE – “Right here, where you are standing, there was an enormous field full of pineapples. My father, my brothers and I used to work near these fields. None of the houses were here, just pineapples, trees, and cow poop,” says my grandfather sweeping his arm through the air for emphasis. The landscape he describes is so different from the concrete horizon before us. The street is now filled with houses, doctors’ offices, small commerce, and a police station. Sure, there are still cows, but nothing as real and dramatic as he...

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Glorimar Ramos Yunqué

Posted by on Mar 18, 2012 in 1.01 - Azúcar | 10 comments

Glorimar Ramos Yunqué

  SEWING HOPE – The woman in the picture is my great-grandmother, Epifania Zoto. We call her Abuela Pita for short. Next to her, is her mother’s sewing machine. The story behind this family relic takes us back to the late 1920s. María Monserrate Pérez was my great-grandmother’s mother. She was married to Ignacio Zoto. They all lived on the lands of Don Manolo Rivera, and worked for him. Ignacio would wake up around 4:00 a.m. to work as a jornalero (day laborer) on the sugar plantations. After work, he brought home an empty sack he...

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