Sunday, May 18, 2008

Favorite Chapters II

Chapter 3 from Best of Two Worlds

Yanira parked her car half a block down the road from Abuela's house, since cars lined both sides of the road and they didn't find an empty place. She left the ignition on and kept nagging him about his life decisions. "Maybe you can work for my father at the gas station."
"I'm not going to work for your father."
She rolled her eyes. "What will you do? You quit school."
"I don't know yet, but I got a card from a sports agent today. He said I could give him a call if I wanted to play in a competitive team."
She looked stunned. "A team? Rancy, sports are for children. You need a real job."
He stared at the dashboard of her brand new Mustang. How could he explain this to her? "I didn't know if I still had the game in me, but maybe if I talk to this agent he can help me get into a professional team. Players make tons of money. My mom always said that's where the millions are."
She rolled her eyes again and pursed her lips. "Only if you're an NFL player. Give it up, Rancy, it's only a dream. There's no money for sports in Puerto Rico. You'll die of hunger. Or worse, you'll be traveling around and sleeping with women while your wife stays at home. That's not the life I want for me."
He didn’t say more because he knew she was right.
She allowed him a peck on her lips. He got out of the car, promised to visit her later and she was gone. She'd just taken off when Tío Luis parked his car down the road. Rancy waited to greet him and his cousins.
"Wepa, muchacho! Como estás, Pai?" his uncle said, rubbing Rancy's hair.
"Todo bien," he replied.
"Rancy!" Merangie called. She was his age. "Votaste? I have reason to believe the results of this referendum will be very interesting." Ever since she started studying journalism, politics had become her favorite subject of conversation.
Rancy had no idea what she meant. According to Alex, they had the same three options: Statehood, Commonweath and Independence. Instead of asking for more details, he took the easy way out. "No, I didn't get a chance to vote, but I might go later."
"We went before mass," Merangie said, "but my uncle, you haven’t met him, he’s my mother's brother. He didn't vote. He's Independentista."
"Rancy," Nadjalie, Merangie's younger sister, came up to them and kissed his check. The sappy sisters, Rancy thought. At least Nadjie wasn't into politics. She was the youngest of his first cousins. When she was a baby her skin looked so translucent and her head so bald the cousins called her Casper, but as her hair grew long and thick it was evident she was going to be a beauty. Now, at eighteen she often got stares and whistles from all of his dirty-minded friends.
"What are you up to these days?" he asked her.
"I signed up for the Miss Puerto Rico pageant."
"Really?" he looked at her. Sure, she was pretty but a pageant? Tío Luis looked annoyed.
"She signed up instead of applying to med school," Merangie explained.
"Will you go see me at the pageant?" Nadjie asked.
Usually he would have jumped at the opportunity of seeing beautiful women in bathing suits, but he cringed at the idea one of those women being his cousin. He couldn't picture her in a tiny piece of fabric which would surely expose the good amount of family genes on her backside. "Let me think about it."
His aunt finally reached them and together they walked down the few steps to the happy little house which had stood through good weather and hurricanes for over fifty years.
"Miren quien llego!" Abuelo called out from the balcony. He was sitting on a rocking chair, with a plate of food on his lap. Rancy's mother and father were sitting on white plastic chairs close to Abuelo, drinking coffee. Anjamely, three of his aunts and uncles and a few cousins were scattered around the marquesina, the open carport, which was now used as a terrace since neither grandparent drove.
He knew Merangie and Natjalie would take their time kissing and hugging every single member of the family, and he was hungry. Instead of waiting he kissed Abuelo's cheek, kissed his mother, waved hello the rest of the family and rushed toward the kitchen to find Abuela.
Abuela cut pieces of white cheese and placed them on a tray with crackers. She had her back to the door as Rancy entered. He caught her off-guard and hugged the tiny strong figure of his grandmother.
She turned around startled. "Hijo!" and then touching Rancy's hair, "Is it raining outside? Estás moja'o."
"No, suda’o. I was playing basket."
She smiled looking at him out of the corner of her eyes. "You boys always with the balls on your hands."
Rancy laughed out loud, caught by surprise at such a joke coming out of the mouth of his very proper, very Catholic grandmother.
"Hungry?" she asked grabbing a plastic plate from the stack over the microwave and serving him spoonfuls of yellow rice.
"Ah, you know exactly what I want," he said and grabbed a fork.
"There's turkey and pork in the oven. Which one you want?"
"Both, I’m hungry. I'll grab it," he said so she wouldn't get burned from the oven.
"You're going to shower before eating?"
He grabbed a dinner roll and ate half in one bite. "Didn't bring any clothes," he said with his mouth full.
"I washed some the other day. Check in Abuelo's dresser."
"I'll shower after I eat. I've have to go back to the school, to vote."
"Ah, yes. Referendum. Your mother took me and your grandfather this morning. Results will start coming out on TV soon," she peaked her head out the door to look into the living room. "Merangie turned the TV on. You can watch."
"I think I'll go sit outside. Thanks, Abuela," he said and kissed her cheek. "Oh, by the way, happy Mother's Day."

He passed by the living room on his way out. Merangie was sitting so close to the TV some of her hair caught by the static. The only other family members joining her in the living room were Tití Monsy and Merangely’s father, Tío Luis. They were arguing as if they were Capulets and Montagues, instead of the loving sister and brother everyone knew they were.
Merangie looked at Rancy with pleading eyes, as if asking him to do something to shut them up. Rancy shrugged, knowing there was nothing he could do. No one interfered with the aunts and uncles when they argued, especially if it was about religion or politics. He felt bad for his cousin after dismissing her earlier.
He looked out the window to the marquesina, where the cousins were singing and applauding the children who danced in the center, where the breeze made the air at least ten degrees cooler than inside the house, but instead of going out he crossed his eyes at Merangie, turned the wall fan on and sat next to her on the reclining chair. Not much seemed to be happening on the news, but Merangie seemed more at ease with his company. She turned back to the TV while Rancy dug into his plate and diverted himself with the argument taking place between his aunt and uncle.
"It's time for independence," Tío Luis argued.
"Independence will bring poverty. Look what happened to Cuba," Tití Monsy shouted back. "The only thing that saved us was the intervention of the United States."
"Their help was needed back in the 40's and 50’s when the depression hit us as hard and we couldn’t recover. Then Governor Luis Muñoz Marín met with President Roosevelt and they decided on the Commonwealth. Muñoz Marín knew the population was poor and hungry. We needed help but now the new generation is educated and can help us get ahead on our own," he gestured toward Merangie and Rancy.
"It's for them Puerto Rico should become a State. They get an education but what jobs will they find if the industries go away? How are the low and middle class students going to get educated without federal scholarships? True, Puerto Rico got ahead with Muñoz Marín, and then Kennedy wanted to make Puerto Rico a State, which would have been great but he didn't live to see the plan carried through. And look what has happened since then. One year a governor from the Statehood party wins and brings prosperity to the Island, and four years later a new governor from the Commonwealth gets elected and destroys everything the previous governor did. We are stuck in a mediocre economy and we are not going to advance until the status gets resolved."
Rancy had heard the argument a thousand times, with some members of the family siding with Tití Monsy, some with Tío Luis but most of them taking the neutral ground and supporting the Commonwealth. Rancy also favored the latter. He didn't mind the relationship with the United States. It had benefits. His scholarship, for once, and traveling back and forth the States, but he wasn't at all like the gringos. His heart was Puerto Rican. Boricua de pura cepa, like the sugar cane.
He finished his meal and put the plate on the side table.
"I can't believe you didn't vote," Merangie said, making him turn to face her.
"I'll go later. Why are you so worked up about it?"
"Well, for one, it decides the future of the Island."
"No, it doesn't. What difference does it make? You've heard your father arguing with Tití Monsy, and it's the same way with everybody else. Forty five percent of the population favors the Commonwealth and forty five percent favor the Statehood party. Only about six percent favors independence, but if it seems the Statehood is going to win, then the Independentistas vote for Commonwealth, so the Commonwealth always wins."
"Not this time," she said and bit her lower lip.
"Okay, tell me. What do you know?"
She smiled and her eyes brightened. "I'm not supposed to talk much about this, but I'll tell you."
Randy sat next to her on the floor in front of the TV. He stared at the TV while she looked at him as she spoke.
"I'm taking this class, Seminar in Journalism, and had to interview politicians for my final paper. My assigned topic was the pollution left by the Marines in Vieques after their removal."
"One more chance for the Independentistas to piss off the Americans," Rancy blurted, though he didn't care either way. It wasn't cool to have the Marines testing bombs in an island inhabited by people, but he wasn't in the Marines and he didn't live in Vieques. Tití Monsy insisted they should have left the Marines stay, because they brought protection to the Island, while Tío Luis argued they were destroying natural resources and killing the town's inhabitants, accident or no accident.
"I interviewed some dignitaries at Fortaleza and a comment escaped one of them regarding the death of the leader of the activist group."
"You mean when the FBI captured the guy who killed the sailors?"
"That's what I think he was talking about, but I wasn't sure because he was hushed by another member of his political party. The attack on the sailors happened before we were born, but the leader of the activists wasn’t captured until the FBI found him a couple of years ago."
"He murdered people. They shot him when he tried to escape."
"Remember, to the Independentistas he was a patriot, a war hero."
"Yeah, I suppose, if you look at it that way."
"Well, I was curious about the comment. I decided to keep on bringing the subject to other Independentistas. People in my family, neighbors, friends from college… and I wrote my final paper based on my theories."
"Which are?"
"The Independentistas claimed they were going to get revenge for the death of the activist leader. We all expected a blood bath, a bomb planted somewhere or something along those lines."
"Right. Mami didn't want me going out that entire week."
"Nothing like that happened, but it seems the Independentistas reached an agreement among themselves, which was not revealed to the press or even to the general public."
"Tell me," Rancy said, his eyes focused on every expression of her face. He wished he had that kind of passion for a 'real' profession.
"I believe they're going to boycott the referendum. Some of them will not vote, while some will vote for the Independent party."
"That's what they should do, anyway. Why is it a boycott?"
"Because the governor in house at the time their leader was murdered was from the Commonwealth."
"Oh, God! You mean…"
"I don't know if he knew, but the Independentistas are still pissed off."
Rancy held his breath. "This is big, isn't it?"
Merangie nodded. "Huge."
"So, what's going to happen?"
"The Commonwealth is on its own this time. From what I've heard it seems the Independentistas want to prove to the Commonwealth they can't keep on winning without them. They also want to prove to the Statehood party even if they win a referendum it doesn't mean the President and Congress will be willing to make Puerto Rico a State. I'm afraid their strategy could backfire. I think you should vote if you get a chance."
"I will."
"But for me," she said smiling, "my professor was impressed by my paper and she offered me a summer internship before I go to graduate school."
"Que cool! Good for you!" He didn't hug her, but she hugged him.
"Yeah, I'm happy. Just don't tell anyone about this. My professor said we have to wait until after the referendum, until we have concrete proof before we can attempt to publish an article like this."
Rancy looked around the living room. The only noise came from the TV, because Tití Monsy and Tío Luis were quietly listening to their conversation. Not only them, Abuela was halfway out of the kitchen. Rancy’s mother was standing by the front door and the cousins sitting on the balcony were talking in hushed voices. Since they all lived in different sections of town, he knew by nightfall the news was going to breach the outskirts of Moca and by next Sunday at mass a perplexed Merangie was going to receive congratulations on her appointment as anchor woman of the evening news.

Favorite Chapters

Chapter 7 from The Aimee Doll

It is a gloomy afternoon for the children of the orphanage to be burying their mother. The sky doesn’t make up its mind on whether it’s going to rain or not, sending some drops of rain now and then. The wind blows for a few minutes, making the air cold, then it stops, silencing everything into dead calmness and allowing humidity to set in. Sister Mary Helen rests her hand on Aimee’s shoulder but Aimee removes her coat, not caring about getting out of the way the tender hand on her shoulder. Aimee takes a step away from everyone. No one notices, except the little girl with tangled black hair who stares at her with hatred. She wonders if little Bianca can read her thoughts. She seems to know exactly what is going on through her mind.
"I want this to be over. I want to get out of here."
Everyone turns at the sound of an approaching carriage, except for Aimee. Everyone seems surprised at seeing the new guest, including Sister Mary Helen, but Aimee is not interested in looking. Her eyes focus on the wooden casket with the wild flowers the children had thrown on top.
"If I still worked at the hospital, I would have bought her a more decent casket. She would have sweet smelling roses on her coffin."
Aimee is so immersed in her own thoughts she barely feels the hand that reaches out to hold hers, until she hears a soft sounding voice whisper close to her ear,
“You are right, there is no way to repay the debt.”
This time Aimee turns and looks into Nely’s tearful eyes.
"But I thought I burnt the letter," she thinks to herself but doesn't speak. She begins to squeeze Nely’s hand, but instead she lets go of it and once again steps away.
Someone talks behind her and she turns around at the familiar voice. Alex. Aimee smiles at him, but when he reaches to embrace her she turns away from his open arms.
Justin stands next to Nely. He offers his condolences, but she doesn’t reply. She turns her back to the group and looks toward the ground again as the first shovel of soil is thrown onto the coffin. It’s over. Now I can go... Where? Home?
She walks.
Sister Mary Helen greets the newcomers. “She hasn’t been herself. She’s very sad, but trying to be strong for everybody else.” Sister Mary Helen gathers the children and they follow Aimee back to the house.

They sit in the dinning room, the only place in the house large enough to hold visitors. The children are in bed. They were sent to their rooms after a light supper. No reading this night, for they were very tired after the day’s events.
Aimee looks at the visitors and once again wonders how they found out about Miss Judy’s death. "I burnt the letter, didn’t I?"
Sister Mary Helen returns from the children’s dormitories and sits close to Nely. “Nely, it’s so nice to see you again. Tell me, what is it like to be back here after so many years?”
“It certainly is nice to be back, but I can not get over how small this place seems,” Nely says looking around. “I used to think this was a large house when I was a little girl growing up here.”
"You have grown used to a bigger house," Aimee wants to reply but doesn’t, mostly because she also was surprised to see how small the place seemed the first time she came back. The exception is, unlike Nely, she kept coming back and the smallness of the house doesn’t surprise her anymore.
“Aimee,” Alex says, “we want to know if we can help.”
“Yes, Aimee,” says Justin this time. “We had no idea of what was going on, or we would have come earlier.”
“Justin says I can come during the day, while him and Alexander go to work at the bank. I can help out with the children and the chores. It will be nice to spend time here again, Aimee.”
"You wouldn’t know how to do chores," Aimee wants to say. "Your lady hands would never be able to stand washing dishes or doing the laundry with ice-cold water."
“Aimee, isn’t it nice of them to offer their help?” Sister Mary Helen asks.
"Extremely." Aimee stands up and goes to the mirror on the wall, the only unbroken mirror in the house, and only because the children are not tall enough to reach it. She stands in front of the mirror but doesn’t see her reflection. She stares at her eyes and remembers Mrs. Braxton looking into them.
“Every time I look at you Aimee, I am reminded of my regrets,” Mrs. Braxton had said.
Aimee looks defiantly at her own eyes. Well, I won’t have any regrets.
Then she remembers Miss Judy’s words, “We all have to go on a journey in our lives.”
A journey, Aimee thinks.
She turns and looks at the crowd, who are waiting for her answer. “No, I don’t need help. I’m going on a... I am going away for a little while.”
“But Aimee,” Sister Mary Helen interrupts.
“Only for a week, Sister. I need to find something here first, then I’ll be gone for a week, and at the end of that week I’ll come back... here.”

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

Island of Enchantment

"Welcome to the Island of Enchantment," the pilot said over the speakers when the plane landed in San Juan and people applauded. By the time we left the airport it was past midnight. We rented a car to drive across the Island to my hometown. My brother drove while N stared into the darkness to catch whatever glimpse she could get of the city but with a pitch black sky the only visibility was that of the eternal constructions and the crazy drivers on the road. The main highway ends in Arecibo. From there we exited to road #2, which is the old road that travels around the Island.

As we neared Guajataca I explained to N we would soon come upon my favorite view of the Island, a place where the ocean suddenly meets wind and land. I feared it might be too dark to see anything but as we rounded the downhill curve a full moon shone directly on the spot, drawing a carpet of light on the water, outlining the mountain, exposing the tunnel and flashing the waves which constantly broke over the sand and formed thick white surf.

"Pirate country," I said while N held her breath. "Oy," was her only expression, followed by "it's beautiful." We also had a glimpse of the face of the Taino Indian carved on the mountain rock.

We didn't take pictures that night but we returned later that week to take pictures of the view during the day.

We arrived at my parent's house within forty more minutes. My parents woke up to receive us. The house looked beautiful with new painting and new chairs on the terrace (my brother's old basketball court).

Inside, the living room looked a bit crowded with the gigantic Christmas tree. My mother can never buy anything small. It has become a joke with us, like the time she bought the refrigerator which didn't fit into the space in the kitchen. "Didn't they have a bigger one at the store?" I asked. "It looked small in the showroom," has become her usual answer. She served us food immediately. Pasteles made with green bananas-our first taste of Christmas food, and fresh bread from the local panadería.

I stayed in my old bedroom with the collection of dolls my mother won't get rid of. N stayed in my brother's old room, while my brother took the studio downstairs, his bachelor pad after he graduated from college and before he bought his house. The bedrooms in my parent's house have A/C but we slept with the windows open since the cool tropical winter air is the best air conditioner in the world. I fell asleep to the sound of the coqui and woke up to the sound of birds chirping the next morning. N asked me about both sounds and I explained the coqui is a little frog which only sings in Puerto Rico and the birds are my mother's pets-cockatiels, love birds and parakeets-which she keeps in the backyard.

First things first. I went to visit my grandmother before running off to tour the Island. I introduced N to my grandparents and the other five or six family members who walked in and out of the house as if it was a secret passageway into their own homes. I told my youngest uncle we wanted to visit the Labadie Castle, an old plantation house where a famous Puerto Rican writer (Enrique Laguerre) wrote his masterpiece La Llamarada (I haven't read the book, but I read the first few pages. His style and choice of words make his writing very poetic… I wish I could write like that). My uncle immediately took his cell phone out and called Townhall to find out if the place was open. I invited him to come along and he jumped into the car without thinking about it twice. We had a nice tour of the place. I've loved the plantation house since I was a child. Back then it was abandoned but in the last few years the major has reconstructed the gardens and some areas of the house. It looks amazing.

A tour guide showed us the house, which is not that big, but it's full of history. Sugar cane, coffee, rice and tobacco were produced there. Slavery was abolished after the Civil War but most of the workers remained working in the plantation. Fear of hurricanes made the owners reconstruct the house into a cement structure, which initially had been a bigger and more beautiful wooden structure.

N told me she liked seeing waves splashing against mountains of rocks in the ocean. I knew the perfect spot- Playa Jobos

(where later that week my brother decided to play a little joke on his gf).

We stopped to eat fish kabobs at one of my favorite run down places at the beach and then we went to see the condos for sale in that area.

They are expensive but not out-of-reach expensive yet, as most beach properties are and I hope to invest in the near future.

On the second day we traveled to Camuy via Lares. We first did a quick stop in Lares to try the famous ice creams, which include flavors such as rice with beans and garlic.

My favorite is corn ice cream topped with cinnamon. Mmm...

The Camuy Caverns turned out more amazing than I anticipated. I remember having seen the Camuy Cave when I was about 8-years-old, but the caverns were discovered later. They are bigger and more impressive. You don't realize you are up on a mountain until a troley takes you all the way down to the entrance of the cave on a winding road that looked like a rollercoaster. Thank God the troley didn't go fast, because as slow as it went, I still held on to my seat.

They took us deep into the forest, until the sky could barely be seen among the tall leafy trees.

The first glimpse of the cavern was a wide entrance covered with stalagmites and stalactites.

Enough light entered the cave at the beggining of the tour, but as we kept walking into the cave it became darker and darker, until we came upon another oppening on the roof of the cave. The view was spectacular. It was the kind of view often portrayed on tourism magazines.

My pictures don't make it justice. You have to be there to see it.

The next day we headed to Ponce, one of the largest towns. Ponce has my second favorite view of the Island. Driving down the West coast toward the South you suddenly come up with the beach to your right. The turquoise blue water is so close to the road you can basically jump from the car into the water. The beach is more serene on this side of the Island because it belongs to the Caribbean Sea instead of the Atlantic Ocean found in the North. We stopped to eat at Pito's Seafood Restaurant, which overlooks the sea.

We had mofongo (mashed fried plantains) filled with seafood in tomato sauce, piña colada and sorullitos

before heading to the downtown area. Among some of the interests are the first fire department

the museum of art and the Serralles Castle,

a major sugar cane plantation house which belongs to the prominent Serralles family. The Serralles industry produces Don Q rum and one of the members of the family married an ex-governor of the Island.
At the museum of art the most famous piece is Flaming June, which portrays a woman wearing a bright but translucent orange gown.

It was painted by a French artist and acquired by the ex-governor and founder of the museum, Luis A. Ferré. Still my favorite paining is The Court of King Alexis because of its impressive size and the story it tells.


I was exhausted the next day and decided to show my friend around my hometown. Not much to see at all, but we walked to the plaza,

visited the church, and the Mundillo museum, the handcrafted lace for which the town of Moca is known.


That night my mother and I stayed up until 3am preparing dishes for Christmas Eve dinner. We grounded fresh coconut to get coconut milk and make sweet rice, coconut flan (my invented recipe) and coquito. N got a taste of coquito right after touring the Labadie Castle, when my uncle offered his homemade coquito. She loved it. What she didn't know was that the thick sweet taste hides the flavor of ron caña, the infamous bootlegged rum which I can smell and recognize a mile away (Pirate rum, I like to call it and by the way, it's also illegal). When Abuela saw her drinking coquito she opened her eyes in surprise and asked me if it had been "baptized" with rum. At that moment N giggled and I didn't have to answer the question.

Christmas Eve at Abuela's house went as usual: Amazing! I love to have the family in one place, clos together, happy. We celebrated with plenty of food, rum and music. Most members of my family, myself included, can't carry a tune. That didn't stop us from brining out the maracas and güiro (this year we went all out and also used pleneras as well as pots and pans)

and sang the few songs we know at the top of our voices. Actually, in November there had been a death in my family and Abuela was still in mourning, that's why we kept is simple and didn't invite parrandas. Las parrandas de los enmascarados commemorate the masacre of the Innocents, after the birth of Jesus. Caravans of men dressed in colorful costums travel from house to house within the town singing and dancing. My uncle (this one told N he had "un buen canto" which can translate to either "a good voice" or "a good piece")and one of my cousins form part of one of those caravans by the name of "La Selecta". My cousin M, whom I call Muñeca (doll), sings with the caravan as well. Women, though, are not allowed to dress in costume.


On Christmas day we woke up early to roast the pig.

N freaked out a little when she entered Abuela's kitchen and saw the corpse, but she quickly recovered and began taking pictures.

To my surprise, neither N nor K were picky with the pig and ate a good portion (I think it grosses me out a lot more than it did them).

We went swiming to Crashboat beach. The beaches in Puerto Rico are warmer during winter than California beaches during summer.

It felt awsome. I took my dog to the beach for the first time. She barked at the waves for a while after one broke hard against her but I took her deeper into calmer water and she learned to swim immediately.

She loved it and complained when I took her out of the water. She also learned to dry herself by rolling around in the sand.


On Sunday night after mass we went to Espinal to eat seafood empanadillas and octopus salad

afterwards my brother got an allergic reaction to the fresh seafood. It's the second time something like this happens to him. The first time we were returning from Culebras when he complained about back pains. I gave him an Advil, forgetting about his allergy to aspirin-related products. We were in a boat in the middle of the ocean when his face swelled up like Will Smith's in the movie "Hitch". It seemed we got tired of silly sibling fights and decided to try to kill each other. Luckily in addition to Advil I always carry Benadril.

We went to Las Ruinas (The Ruins)

a nice spot in Aguadilla to take pictures, before heading out to La Palguera and the Fluorescent Bay. For the water to fluoresce you must go on a dark night with no moon. Unfortunately there was moon on the only night we had available to go and the images were not as impressive. Still, we enjoyed the boat ride over the dark water and we were able to see the water fluorsce a little when swimmers jumped out of the boat into the water. K was reluctant to touch the water at first, but when she saw the water shinning over her hand, she dipped it into the water and waived it like a puppy learnign to swim.

After that we spent a couple of days in the city. Walking the brick-covered streets of the Old San Juan is like stepping into another era. The Spanish Colonial houses, the intensity of the ocean waves breaking against the sand, the castles and forts, the green gardens. The new and the old mingled together. Words can not describe it. "Beautiful, beautiful," N and K kept saying. They would turn their heads and repeat "beautiful" as we walked. Maybe pictures will describe it better:







Ooh! He's got some powerful balls!!!



I love this picture. I took it a few years ago and since then I've used it in presentations and articles. I have a large copy in my office at work. Oh, yes, and another one on my Blog!

That night, as tired as we were, we went clubbing to the Hotel San Juan and Casino in Isla Verde. I chose to go there because that hotel brings back great memores of when I lived in San Juan right after graduating college and I used to go to the hotel to enjoy the night life with some of my best friends. One of them, actually, the surgeon, got married at the hotel gardens.
I didn't take pictures of the hotel but I found some cute ones:




N left us the next day to go back to Arizona (of all places!). We went home.

Home.

I was exhausted and sneezed all the way back. Is it weird to sneeze when I'm tired?? I wanted to go to sleep for at least two days, but as I changed into my comfy pj's my cousin A called to invite me to Cousin's Kareoke Night at her house. Sleeping could wait.

I got there early and helped set up. The cousins were anxious to meet K. We had kept her touring around for too long. When she walked into the house with my brother, F raised her hand "Me first," she said and introduced herself (F is the one with the wild fushia-red hair and the matching personality).

K doesn't speak much Spanish. I think we managed to get about five Spanish words out of her during the entire trip. But she sang "Photograph" by Nickelback with the cousins. I think she scored high points with the family just for that. F didn't say anything mean about her and F's opinion is often heard, very loudly, so I'm sure K's in.

I more or less slept through New Year's. Only got out of Abuelo's sofa to collect my midnight kisses. And soon after (too soon) it was time to go back home. To Albuquerque, home.

I often wonder what I'm doing far from my country and everything and everyone I love. It's the eternal irony of having my life in one place but my heart in another. Don't get me wrong, I love Albuquerque... but...

Ahhh...

My New Year's resolotion is to find a permanent job that will allow me to go Home more often. Home.

On a good note... I moved from the Island of Enchantment to the Land of Enchantment!

Love you all from here to there,

L