Chapter 7 – EL PATIO

TABLA DE CONTENIDO

Carlos A. Rodríguez

Posted by on May 25, 2012 in 1.07 - El Patio | 1 comment

Carlos A. Rodríguez

METHUSELAH’S SUNSET – Methuselah is somewhere in my family tree. My great-grandfather died at ninety-six and his mother at one-hundred and one.  His wife and sister died a few years ago at one-hundred two, and one-hundred and one, respectively. Although I had the opportunity to know them well when they were still alive, the forced visits to my great-grandparents’ home when I was younger never inspired the appreciation for my roots that my mother intended. I even have trouble remembering their real names, Marcelino...

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Marielys Torres Rodríguez

Posted by on May 13, 2012 in 1.07 - El Patio | 2 comments

Marielys Torres Rodríguez

WITH JUST THAT LOOK – I found this picture with its old smell in the house where my grandparents lived. When my mother led me to where it was and I saw it for the first time, many questions and feelings came up.  I never had the pleasure of meeting them. Who? My great-grandparents, Gregorio and Santiaga. You are asking, how I know their names? Well, that would be because of my mom, who also told me that they posed for this picture in 1955. I held the image in my hands and it made me so curious, I wanted to know more about them. My...

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Lua Harmsen Howard

Posted by on Apr 28, 2012 in 1.07 - El Patio | 5 comments

Lua Harmsen Howard

WHY CAN’T YOU JUST BE “NORMAL?” – She had to be different. She couldn’t just be “normal.” Whenever Lua had to make a decision, she just couldn’t follow the crowd. “That girl, she always has to be some sort of a rebel! Who does she think she is?” That’s what she hears people say. Even as a kid she just couldn’t do it. Other little girls wanted pigtails. Lua boldly stated she wanted to cut her hair as short like a boy. This made her look more like she felt, not at all a girly girl but neither a tomboy. It might have been her...

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Amarilis Mercado Cortés

Posted by on Apr 15, 2012 in 1.07 - El Patio | 1 comment

Amarilis Mercado Cortés

MY PUERTO RICAN ROOTS – Every morning, my grandmother, María Arcelia Torres Ríos (Celia), was up by 5 a.m. brewing her cup of coffee and preparing for the day. When I moved back to Puerto Rico when I was fifteen, she was the person who taught me how to respect and love my Puerto Rican roots. I never knew what it was to eat pana, aguacate, tembleque, arroz dulce and other typical foods from Puerto Rico. Celia told me that I had to learn how to eat good food not Americanos food. She never liked it when I spoke to her in English. She would...

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Xiomara Mendez Torres

Posted by on Apr 6, 2012 in 1.07 - El Patio | 4 comments

Xiomara Mendez Torres

THE STORY OF A CHILD – It was a typical day in San Sebastian.  Fundador had gotten up at 5:00 a.m. to open his little store in Pueblo Nuevo where every day he sold rice, bacalao, beans, candy and the children’s favorite, limber.  It was raining and he could see the people walking barefoot through the muddy streets holding their ten-cent shoes in their hands, so they wouldn’t get dirty.  Everybody had lots of children and Fundador and Luisa weren’t the exception. They had eight children, which was an average number of kids for families...

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Alba González

Posted by on Apr 3, 2012 in 1.07 - El Patio | 2 comments

Alba González

ILA – There she is, the tallest of the three, with her back straight and eyebrows raised. I have not known her for long and recently (with great sadness, I admit) we’ve been growing apart. My grandmother, a beautiful, strong, independent woman despite her many hardships, still has a smile on her face. Her name is Alba, and even though her youth was cut short by a young marriage, she still keeps a young, playful spirit that sometimes makes me feel as if she were the teenager and I the grandmother. In her youth, her family lived in New...

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Josué Aceituno Díaz

Posted by on Mar 26, 2012 in 1.07 - El Patio | 2 comments

Josué Aceituno Díaz

EL PATIO DE MI ABUELA – Learning to ride a bicycle. My first broken bone. Water balloon fights.  Sleeping in the hamaca.  Those were the days in el patio de mi abuela, where I spent most of my childhood. My grandmother’s house was located in Cagüitas Centro in Aguas Buenas, a place where my whole family met on the holidays. Her name was Agueda Ríos Medina and my grandfather was Antonio Díaz De Jesus but everybody called him Toñin. El patio is sometimes called by a Taino word, el batey. It was a big area around of my grandmother’s house...

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