A New Beginning - By Edil Rentas Sr ‘23

 A New Beginning

Today we went to the hospital to see our son, just as we have been doing for the last three weeks.  We arrived mid afternoon,  left the car with the valet parking attendant, said our usual hellos, and proceeded to the reception desk where we checked in. 

We continue on to the elevator. When the door opened a hospital volunteer pushed a wheelchair with a lady holding a little tiny newborn close to her chest. Congratulations!  I said.  Thank you! It was heard multiple times like an echo as the various family members followed with armfulls of flowers, gifts, and bags replied.  The smiles in everyone’s faces spoke of the happiness that filled their hearts. A new beginning! I said in my mind. The beginning of a new season in those people’s lives. I commented to my wife Lucy.

A new beginning.  When one thinks about it, about a new beginning, yes, something  is beginning at the moment this newborn heads out of the hospital, but is it really the beginning?

Thinking a bit about it,  there have been many beginnings leading to this moment. Where exactly can one say that this moment began?  For those believers, they may say that it was the moment God wrote this new life’s existence in the book of life. This however is a complex and compounding answer. This would mean that every soul, and every life, connected to every single ancestor, on both sides of the family, had to be established, one by one, until the day this baby was conceived. That’s a long, long chain of events, occurring in perfect synchronization, maybe beginning in the Byzantine Empire, or who knows if even in times before the birth of Jesus.

But wait. Was the beginning of this life as we know it, the moment the egg was fertilized? Or was it the moment the heart was formed and started beating?  Even if we accept either one of these as the beginning, let’s not forget that this life follows dozens, hundreds, or even thousands of preceding newborns that have followed a similar path.  The reality of it is that life’s beginning is a complex series of events, in a game of probabilities that’s just mind boggling.  If you were to change just one event, out of the likely thousands that lead to this moment, this moment wouldn’t be happening. 

Yet, even if one event was changed, it is very likely that we would still have landed in this very moment, if as some people say, everything in life is predetermined.  As I write this however, which I started writing with one subject in mind but then headed in another direction, the more I think about it the more convoluted it gets.  

After the idea came to my mind and thoughts started flowing, I just can’t stop thinking about where exactly it began. Well,  a simpler answer may be the moment the baby came out of the womb. Right?  Well,  that’s too simplistic since we already know that there were many beginnings before this one.  We also know that this is just one of the many new beginnings this new life will go through his or her existence. 

It’s beginning in life: the instance in which a moment of love resulted in a race of millions of sperms, against all odds, for a lucky swimmer to break through a wall, which instantly  closed the gates for all the others.  But what when two, or three, or four, or eight broke through at the same time?  Was that exactly the way it was supposed to happen?  The answer is yes, because it obviously happened, right?

Then,  all this is followed by birth, new beginnings at home, at the pre-kinder, kindergarten, elementary school, teenager, junior high, high school, college,  adult life, courtships, marriage, and so on.  

But who’s to say if, at what moment any one event, or beginning, gets changed or even interrupted, because of what we consider a premature passing to its next destination, whatever that would be.  Would it be heaven? Maybe hell. Or the purgatory for those who believe in that.  Or will it be the beginning of another life as someone else, in another dimension, as others believe.

The mind bending part of this bunch of thoughts I’m laying down for you to ponder on, is that the line of events that represent “life”, is different for every single person on this planet, past, present, and future, for hundreds, thousands, or maybe even millions of years.  After all, we cannot put a finger at which moment the very first life emerged that started the whole cycle of civilization, which eventually led to this newborn’s beginning.

If we are believers of the scriptures, that moment began with God's creation Earth.  Or maybe it was when God had the idea to create Earth, or Adam, or Eve? And if so,  how did we end up with millions of habitants, beginning with just two people?  I’d rather not think about it, as this would imply that some not so acceptable events (according to  today’s standards) had to take place.  What was God thinking?

If you have read this far, please forgive me. It’s not my intention to question God, the scriptures, nor to be disrespectful to anyone.  It’s just that the idea of the beginning of life it’s a complicated subject, to the point that it gives validity to the question of what came first, the chicken or the egg. In any case, in the end, it is not just another beginning. It is a new beginning of a new life, which begins wherever you want the beginning to be. 

Edil Rentas Sr. ‘23

Sunday Morning Love Sickness

Sunday Morning Love Sickness

It’s Sunday morning on a cool, bright, Florida fall day. We drove to the hospital to visit our inpatient son. As we approach the hospital I debate about parking at the main parking lot

using the valet parking, which is only available at the emergency room entrance during weekends.

We opt for the emergency room entrance valet parking, due to my painful knee,  to avoid any unnecessary walking.  We pass the mostly empty ER waiting room and begin the walk down the many long hallways adorned by multiple large colorful Florida Nature themed pictures. Some of depict simple oak filled pastures, others flower filled ponds, fenced horses, as well as well known blue green rivers and swimming holes of the state,  tempting you to jump in right through them.

After several hospitalization visits, we are pretty familiar with the hospital, yet we still get lost from time to time. We walk to the elevators on the 1R level, which coincidentally is under the Ground level, and the second floor is directly above the Ground floor which leads to confusion for many visitors, and leads me to the rest of the story.

The thump and clunk, and ding of the elevator bell announce its arrival. The double stainless steel doors open and out comes a tall, slim gentleman, with white hair, wrinkled freckled skin, that speak of his late eighties age.  The old man walks out of the elevator with accidental pace, warbling a bit from side to side.  I asked him, can I help you?  I’m looking for room 110, but I don’t know where it is,. He says. I then stated,  “I’m not sure that there are rooms on the first floor, maybe in the emergency room. As the man starts to walk away on his short difficult steps my wife insists that I walk with him  in case he needs more help, to which I agreed.

As we slowly walk down a hallway we call the Hall of Fame, which is a long hallway that passes a wall filled with pictures and names of the hospital’s top administrative staff, the man tells me that he forgot his cane in his car.  I offered to lend him my cane, offer which he declined. We continue walking and find another long hallway to the right, labeled as the Emergency Observation rooms, so we enter. 

Just before we enter I asked the old man, who are you visiting? Your wife? A friend?My fiancé, he replied, as we enter the hallway and start looking at the room numbers. Without much though I said “just as important”, as count down the room numbers and we near the Room 110.

The room door is open and the curtain is drawn closed, and  the light was off. I could hear some voices, as the old man went passed me and neared the curtains. He slowly pushed the curtain to the left, as he quietly sneaked his face into the room. What are you doing here?  A lady’s voice exclames with emotion and joy  I’m here because of you! He said.  

At the same time an adorable short stature, bright eyed, pink skin, white haired lady, likely in her mid to late eighties, walks to the old man with happiness.  They were so caught up in their moment that  I quietly walked away in the midst of their encounter. I looked back once,  then continued on.  I felt like it was the end of “Touched by an Angel” episode, happy and satisfied with having completed a mission. The good Boys Scout deed of the day, having learned that love is ageless.  That love can help heal a Sunday morning love sickness. 

Ed Rentas Sr ‘23

The Rise of Vacant Mega Warehouses

 Title: Unveiling the Impact of Mega Warehouses on Developed and Undeveloped Land

By Edil Rentas, 

The exponential growth of e-commerce has given rise to the proliferation of mega warehouses, vast fulfillment centers that facilitate the storage and distribution of goods. While these facilities have revolutionized the logistics industry, their establishment has profound implications for both developed and undeveloped land. In this article, we will explore the impact of mega warehouses on both types of land, examining the challenges they present and the potential consequences for our environments and communities.

1. Impact on Developed Land

a. Conversion of Land Use: Mega warehouses require vast amounts of land, often in close proximity to transportation infrastructure and urban centers. As a result, previously developed land, such as industrial areas, brownfields, or even agricultural land, is repurposed to accommodate these massive structures. This conversion can disrupt existing land use patterns, potentially displacing businesses, and impacting local economies and communities.

b. Strain on Infrastructure: Mega warehouses place substantial pressure on existing infrastructure. Their operation necessitates efficient transportation networks, including roadways, highways, and rail systems, to facilitate the movement of goods. Increased truck traffic to and from these warehouses can lead to congestion and accelerated wear and tear on roadways. Moreover, the demand for utilities, such as water, electricity, and waste management services, escalates, requiring upgrades and expansions to support the needs of these facilities.

c. Economic Impact: The establishment of mega warehouses often brings employment opportunities to local communities. The construction phase alone generates jobs, and once operational, these facilities require a significant workforce for various roles. Additionally, ancillary businesses may emerge to cater to the needs of the warehouses and their workforce, contributing to economic activity. However, it is important to consider the quality of these jobs, as they may involve low wages and limited job security, leading to potential socioeconomic challenges.

2. Impact on Undeveloped Land

a. Encroachment on Natural Habitats: Mega warehouses can contribute to the encroachment on undeveloped or greenfield areas. As existing land is converted for warehouse use, the demand for land resources increases, putting pressure on nearby undeveloped land. This expansion can lead to the loss of natural habitats, farmland, and green spaces, potentially impacting biodiversity and ecosystem health.

b. Land Conservation and Preservation Challenges: The establishment of mega warehouses poses challenges to land conservation and preservation efforts. As undeveloped land is utilized for warehouse construction, the conservation of natural areas becomes more complex. Balancing the need for economic development with environmental stewardship becomes crucial to ensure the long-term sustainability of our natural resources.

c. Implications for Urban Planning: The growth of mega warehouses influences urban planning strategies. The concentration of these facilities can contribute to urban sprawl and impact land-use patterns. Strategic planning is essential to mitigate negative consequences, such as increased traffic congestion, environmental degradation, and the loss of green spaces. Adopting smart growth principles that prioritize sustainable land use and the preservation of undeveloped areas is crucial for long-term urban development.

Conclusion

Mega warehouses have a significant impact on both developed and undeveloped land. While they offer economic benefits, including job creation and enhanced logistical capabilities, they also present challenges in terms of land conversion, infrastructure strain, and environmental consequences. Striking a balance between economic growth and sustainable land use is key to mitigating these impacts. By implementing responsible land-use practices, considering alternative locations, and fostering collaboration between stakeholders, we can ensure that the establishment of mega warehouses aligns with environmental stewardship and supports the well-being of local communities.

The 3 O'clock Coffee

After a morning of hard work trimming down several palm trees, and fixing the fence and gate post at the finca's entrance, there is nothing like a hot, sweet 3 o'clock coffee.

We arrived this morning with many plans and projects in mind, besides fixing the gate. But after I began to dig out the old broken fence post I realized I was in over my head. The post was cemented at least 2 feet deep in very hard wet clay that does not break easy and I did not have the right tools to do it. As a matter of fact I didn't even find the pick in order to dig down, but while looking for it I only found the iron part. 

After trying to use by hand and found it to be a futile effort, it occurred to me that the palms that I cut down were so hard that they sounded like baseball bats when they hit the ground, so "a la McGuiver", I decided to create my own handle for the pick, and guess what, it worked like a charm. 

I have to say, I dare anyone to use this pick without gloves; your hands will be torn after you are done. 

As I was trying to break the concrete of the old post, the closest neighbor showed up to see what was the noise he was hearing, since the house is supposed to be empty. Before I knew it he grabbed the pick and started going to town with the concrete, only to be convinced that it was an impossible mission. So after some discussion we decided to leave the old base of the post in and insert the new pipe inside the old pipe, and sink the the old pipe besidev the new pipe to fill the gap. 

Although not a perfect solution, it worked, and thank God for Leonardo the neighbor and his help. Otherwise I would probably be still digging out the old post. For the rest of the projects planned for the afternoon, it was a bust, I'm now so tired it's not even funny, and not even the 3 o'clock coffee will revive me. 

A chain saw in paradiso

 At 6:00 AM this morning Lucy and I payed our fourth visit to Home Depot. When we are here one trip is just not enough in order to get all the supplies needed for the projects. Starting with wasp spray, a new machete, a chain saw, among other things, plus all the plumbing supplies to install the water cistern. 

Yesterday when we went to la finca, it had rained, and the power was out so I was unable to cut any trees because the chain saw and the pole saw are both electric. So, this morning after much debate we decided to get a gasoline chain saw in order to keep an upper hand when the power is out. 

Four years ago, when my father in law passed, we were hit by a hurricane while still occupying the finca house. A 60 feet humongous Australian pine was downed by the storm winds and blocked the access road to the property, locking us in. Since we didn't have a chain saw of any kind, we had to call the municipal Civil Defense crew to come remove the tree. 

This new chain saw will be of great help, and although it will mean more work, it will also mean working smarter not harder.

Encuentro Cercano En Tallaboa: La Nochebuena - Por Edil Rentas

Para leer la primera parte click aqui: Otro Día en "Paradiso": Encuentro Cercano en Tallaboa    

Para leer la segunda parte click aqui: Otro Día en "Paradiso": Encuentro Cercano en Tallaboa, Segunda Parte


Es una fresca noche de diciembre de algún año de los 70. Me encuentro en la vieja iglesia de mi barrio, la cual está abarrotada de creyentes que han acudido a celebrar la misa de gallo. Allí están todos aquellos que acuden regularmente, y muchos de los que sólo van durante semana santa y navidad.  No hay un asiento vacío y varios niños pelean entre sí para poder sentarse. Al frente, un nacimiento viviente adorna el altar mientras el coro llena el aire de villancicos a varias voces como de costumbre, acompañados por el cuatro, guitarras, güiro, maracas, y panderetas. Los monaguillos pelean contra el sueño, bostezo tras bostezo, contagiando al que los mira. Entro a la iglesia y me dirijo al atrio superior en un intento por encontrar asiento, donde debo permanecer de pie en frente de una ventana al no encontrar alguno. Mientras canto al compás de la música, miro a la distancia las montañas de Peñuelas, donde las luces callejeras tiemblan de frío en la noche oscura. También puedo ver a la distancia prendiendo y apagando las luces navideñas de las decoraciones de las casas más cercanas.

  

  Mientras canto, mi mente deambula sonámbula, debido a las múltiples madrugadas de sueños perdidos para asistir a las misas de aguinaldo los días anteriores. Observo un singular y colorido arbolito a la distancia, del cual de pronto se desprenden dos pequeñas luces, una verde y una anaranjada, las cuales comienzan a flotar en el aire mientras giraban como si estuvieran sujetadas entre si. Parpadeo repetidamente en un intento de despertarme del aparente sueño que estoy teniendo, pero solo logró convencerme de que lo que estaba viendo no era producto del sueño, sino de algo irreal, de algo que existe sólo en la imaginación, los sueños y las pesadillas.

   

  ¿Pero será posible lo que estoy viendo? Me pregunto a mí mismo. ¿Habrán vuelto mis viajeros amigos como lo prometieron que lo harían durante nuestro último encuentro? Bajo las escaleras desde el atrio superior y me dirijo afuera de la capilla mientras buscó las juguetonas luces que bailaban entre sí. Las observo siguiendo su ondulada trayectoria, subiendo alto en el cielo, luego bajando en picada hasta casi estrellarse contra la tierra, para luego elevarse nuevamente a gran velocidad. También puedo observar a lo alto del firmamento algo parecido a una aurora boreal de color grisácea desplazarse lentamente en dirección a la playa. 

  

Pierdo de vista las juguetonas luces por lo que busco insistentemente mirando en todas direcciones. A todo esto nadie más parece percatarse de lo que está sucediendo a pesar que hay varias personas en el patio de la iglesia. En cambio yo, debatiendo entre el miedo y la excitación por lo que estoy viendo no puedo mediar palabra, me quedo mudo. A pesar de que son apenas pasadas la media noche, el cielo sobre mi comienza a esclarecer como si fueran las seis de la mañana. De manera casi imperceptible comienzo a notar moviéndose lentamente a gran altura, algo parecido a un gigantesco copo de nieve circular que cambiaba de colores, en tonos neones, azul, amarillo, verde, azul, amarillo, verde, repetidamente.

  

  Me transporto mentalmente al momento de despedida durante el segundo encuentro cercano en Playa Alegre, los colores de la nave bajo el agua eran iguales, pero el tamaño de la que ahora veo era decenas de veces más grande. Flotaba en el cielo moviéndose hacia el sureste, hacia la costa, mientras sus opacas luces pulsaban lentamente. Me da poco de temor por lo que me paré contra la pared del lado éste del edificio, como para esconderme, como si me estuvieran observando. Alguien entra por el portón de la iglesia y me ve mirando hacia arriba, e instintivamente voltea a mirar, entonces me pregunta, ¿qué miras? Nada, sólo espero a que pase Santa Claus en su trineo, le dije riéndome. Ya tu estas viejo para creer en Santa Claus, dice. Nunca se es viejo para creer en trineos u otras cosas voladoras.  Mire esas estrellas, ¿qué bonitas están verdad? Sin darle pista que yo estoy viendo algo. Sí preciosas, dijo volteándose nuevamente. Al no ver reacción alguna de su parte, entendí que sólo yo podía ver lo que estaba aconteciendo.

  ¿Porque, porque sólo yo puedo ver eso? Me pregunto a mí mismo repetidamente. Momento después diviso nuevamente el par de luces danzantes dirigirse en dirección de la playa, por encima del parque de pelota del el barrio, pero las pierdo de vista detrás de los arboles. Me separo de la pared y camino hacia el portón de entrada mientras miro en dirección al camino que va hacia el parque de pelota. Aún sin poder ver nada, camino rápidamente hacia el frente de la tienda de Don Goyo, la cual está justo a la entrada del camino que entra hacia el parque.

  El resplandor de la luna llena que sube ahora provee bastante luz para poder ver a donde me dirijo.  El gigantesco círculo de colores en forma de copo de nieve sigue desplazándose hacia la costa. Aunque tengo temor, sigo caminando, casi corriendo, pasado el parque adentrándome por las veredas que llevan hacia los lagos de sal que bordean la costa. Recordando mis experiencias anteriores, donde no había pasado nada malo en mis encuentros, tomo valentía y sigo hacia la playa del barrio, Playa Alegre. 

  

  Puedo ver con más claridad el gran disco que ahora flota un par de millas fuera de la costa, mientras las pequeñas luces juguetean rápidamente a su alrededor. Para cortar camino, tome el angosto puente que cruza por el medio de los lagos, caminando cuidadosamente para no perder el balance, o que se me fuera un pie entre los separados tablones de éste. Camino como hipnotizado por las luces hasta llegar a la playa justo frente a la montaña de sal, la cual había sido recientemente traída para ser procesada desde alguna isla caribeña. Con el corazón latiendo casi por salir de mi pecho, no sé si por la corrida o por el miedo, trepo con dificultad por la parte trasera de la montaña de sal, resbalando en los grandes granos sueltos, pintados de plateado por la luna, con esperanza de no ser visto. 

  

  Volteo y miro hacía el barrio el cual parece un gran árbol navideño adornado de extremo a extremo. Que bello mi barrio, me digo a mi mismo. Volteo y miro hacia el mar nuevamente y veo como el gran disco de pronto absorbe las dos pequeñas luces por uno de sus lados, con lo que pareció ser un pequeño relámpago. La nave está ahora como a dos mil pies de altura sobre el agua cerca del Cayo Marialanga, cuando como una docena de luces multicolores que salen del mar sube y entran dentro de la gigante nave. Yo estoy temblando, tal vez por el sudor y frío que me envuelven, tal vez por el punto de pánico que ahora me arropa. 

  

  El gran disco ahora se desplaza en dirección a la termoeléctrica en Guayanilla, y un gran rayo de luz potente color verde sale de él, posándose sobre lo que parece ser las instalaciones petroquímicas Union Carbide en la costa. Recuerdo inmediatamente la explosión y fuego que sucedió en la planta frente a la gomera El Cubano años atrás, y la nave que vi sobre el lugar en aquel momento. El rayo de luz es tan intenso que apenas puedo mirarlo. Su intensidad es como la de un arco de soldadura, pero verde neón intenso. 

  

  Cabummmmmm, una gran explosión se escucha seguida por llamaradas que se elevan cientos de pies en el aire, iluminando todo el cielo. Del susto, me voy rodando abajo por la montaña de sal, pero vuelvo y subo para seguir mirando. Es obvio que esta gente o lo que sean no son los mismos con quien yo me encontré la vez anterior, pues aquellos eran pacíficos y no creo que harían algo así,   pensé. Ahora sí que el miedo se está apoderando de mí, por lo que me deslizo montaña de sal abajo, y salgo corriendo en dirección a El Boquete, el pequeño sector costero al sureste del barrio. Miro hacia atrás mientras corro y noto como la gran nave comienza a opacarse hasta que no la pude ver más. Aún estaba quieta en el mismo sitio cuando la perdí de vista, y curiosamente no hay ningún reflejo de la luna en ella, como si fuera de un material mate, sin brillo.  

  

  Llego a la carretera militar y cruce hacia la Primera Calle del barrio por donde me dirijo a casa. Minutos más tarde escucho en el silencio de la noche las sirenas de los camiones de bomberos y ambulancias que se acercan para responder a la emergencia. Miro hacia el mar mientras camino pero ya no veo nada, solo las grandes llamaradas que se levantan a la distancia. Al pasar por el colmado de Tolín, frente a la fábrica de sal, veo a Don Valentín, el borracho habitual del barrio, sentado en las escaleras del negocio con su caneca de ron en la mano. Feliz Navidad Don Valentín. Feliz Navidad, contesta él. ¿Vio esa explosión? Si, la vi, y vi de donde salió también, me dice. ¿Cómo? ¿De dónde? Le pregunto sorprendido. Si yo vi todas las luces esas raras allá sobre el mar, dice él con su lengua trabada por la borrachera, y su usual manoteo. Pero yo sé que eso es la juma que tengo que me hace ver cosas. Sí, eso es, le digo yo. Vayase a la iglesia, le digo, que ahora están celebrando la misa de gallo. ¿A esta hora? Me respondió el, sin yo comprender lo que quiere decir.

  

  Sigo camino a casa, sudado y lleno de sal. Al entrar miro el reloj, son las cinco de la mañana, me confundo. ¿Las cinco? Como van a ser las cinco, solo ha pasado apenas una hora desde que llegué a la iglesia. De pronto la alarma del reloj suena. Tiro la mano rápidamente para apagarla, despertando del profundo sueño. Qué alivio, me digo a mi mismo, sólo estaba soñando. ¿Fue un sueño verdad? Me pregunto tratando de convencerme a mí mismo. Pero, ¿qué pasó durante las pasadas cinco horas? No lo puedo contestar. 

  Desde entonces mis nochebuenas no son iguales, continúo mi búsqueda de los cielos a ver si veo un trineo, o alguna otra cosa en las alturas, de las que sólo existen en la imaginación, los sueños y las pesadillas. 

In The Heat Of The Mango

It's a hot, hazy, Sunday afternoon in Ponce, Puerto Rico. The skies are greyed out by the long traveled sand dusts from the Sahara, which have crossed the Atlantic as it has occurred for millenniums. The town is quiet, people walk lazily around the tree lined and centennial buildings adorned plaza. 

Others sit on benches under the centuries old umbrella shaped trees, refreshed by the mist of the lion guarded fountain, enjoying the delicious ice creams from Los Chinitos, the decades old  famous ice cream parlor at the town square, across from the legendary black and red fire house, El Parque de Bombas. 

Los Chinito's ice creams are delicious, no matter what flavor you get. I'm having my favorite, guanabana or sour sop, which melts under the intense heat, prompting me to lick it quickly. It's always hard to chose between the so many delicious flavors, orange, coconut, passion fruit, peanuts, chocolate, or the decadent creamy vanilla, among others. 

But neither the ice cream, nor the fountain mist are enough to make you feel cool, so we decide to take a drive up to the mountain top country house, near the boundaries of Ponce, Jayuya and Adjuntas, to get a bit of relief from the scorching heat. As we reach the half point of the climb, the temperatures start dropping to more comfortable levels, while a fine mist rain falls, almost like snow flakes, blown from one side to the other.

On the way up we found many mango trees with ripe fruits. I stopped a few times to pick the many different varieties of the fruit, most of them the small, round, reddish and yellow sweet mango rosa, the tiny yellow mango jobito, and the sweet and tangy, yellowish green mango largo, my favorite. 

As I  gather some mangoes on the roadside, a beat up white Jeep Cherokee, driven by a dark tanned skin, unkept curly haired guy, stopped for a few moments and observed what I was doing. Then he and the dirty blond, short haired lady that accompanied him continued their way. 

I had seen the same guy drinking a beer earlier, when I passed him on the roadway, as he managed the curvy uphill road at low speed, giving me the impression that he could be drunk.  A few minutes later I passed the Cherokee again as it was stopped at a local roadside bar, which the guy and the gall had entered. A bit further down the road I found another tree with my favorite mangoes, mango largo or mango de piña, so I stopped to get some.  

As I was picking mangoes the Cherokee drives up once again, this time very slow as the blood shot eyes guy and the lady looked at me directly, saying nothing, even though they had the windows down. They passed slowly by me, and just as they passed my car, in which my wife Lucy and my mother in law sat, they stopped. The Cherokee then started to return towards me in reverse crossing the lanes as it got close to me. My wife who was in our car which was parked a bit of a distance away, saw what was happening so she started to honk the horn on the car to warn me of the situation.  Not knowing their intentions, I acted as if nothing was happening, ignoring their presence, but with a heightened sense of alertness, with the fight or flight reflex ready to be engaged. 

As I glanced with the corner of my eye I could see the lady getting something from the floor of the backseat of their car. The guy then yells at me with a obvious drunken voice. Amigo! As he moved something up from the back seat outside my view. Ven acá! He says. How can I help you, I replied. Here, take this, he says. Then to my surprise, he moves his two hands up with two huge mangoes, which dwarfed all the other ones I had picked, Take these, and don't let them get too ripe, as these will not get yellow like those you have, pointing to the handful of miniature mangos I was holding. Totally in shock and still trying to asses the situation, I took the two mangoes, as I thanked them for their unexpected nice gesture.

As they continued on their way, I returned to our car were my wife and my mother in law waited. What happened? Lucy asked. This, I said showing the handful of mangoes. What? She insists. What did they want? Look at these, showing her the huge mangoes. We were scared for a moment, she said. We all breathed a sign of relief, as we laughed of the moment.  I guess you can't judge a book by its cover, I said. 

We then continued on our way to the country house, where we enjoyed the cool afternoon, savoring some mangoes, waching Ponce in the distance sizzle in the hot afternoon.

"El Campo" Memories

Today I went to the country house up on the hills, the place were my inlaws lived for many years. That place from where I've tempted many of you with the pictures of its awesome views. 

Sadly, since the passing of my father in law, and the move of my mother in law to the city, the beautiful gardens no longer thrive. Missing are all the orchids and many other flowers that surrounded the yard. The coofee plants that served as boricua christmas trees, adorned with ripening coffee beans, no longer thrive. Fifteen feet high plantain plants bearing foot long plantain bananas, that looked more like palm trees are no longer cultivated. Nature is working fast at claiming what it is hers. Hornets are building their nests everywhere they find a suitable place, and a bee colony has made it's home inside the walls of the old laundry room.

The trails where we used to escape to become part of nature are no longer passable. You can no longer hear the the roosters sing, neither the hundreds of perickites, lovebirds, cockatiels and parrots they used to grow, that use to fill the air with their songs. Much less heard are the voices of the family chatting and laughing in the kitchen, accompanied by the smell of freshly brewed coffee, and hot pan de agua and sobao (French bread, and lard bread), eaten with lots of butter.

The hammock were we used to escape to sleep off after over indulging on delicious food no longer hangs. The nights sitting on the balcony looking down at Ponce, shivering from the cold breeze, and enjoying the coqui frogs singing after the afternoon rain showers, no longer happen, at least not there.

Without the hands of my late father in law, and his wife who tirelessly worked to keep nature from taking over, the place is not the same. Someone recently broke into the property and stole several copper pipes for the water and the gas system, a problem that abounds on the island thanks to high copper prices paid by metal recyclers. Well, tomorrow I'll be working on the issue as well as ways to protect, water, gas and electrical lines from theft.

  

For about a quarter of a century "la casa de campo" served as a little peace of heaven where friends and family were always welcome, filling our hearts with peace and happiness. This was a place that allowed me to escape the hustle and bustle of the big city to become a jibaro.

Today, even though no one is living the house, it is still a very peaceful and serene place that evoke the memories of past times. Memories of gone by times that will never return. But at least I have those memories, that coupled with the many pictures I took there, will allow me to re-live in my mind those beautiful times.

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