If you come from Puerto Rico or
have lived in Puerto Rico for any time at all, you’ll recognize those words. If
you don’t, read on…
It was early
summer in 1965 and my coming to Puerto Rico had taken place some few months
before. The summer recess was starting, and I needed to make some income. There
weren’t too many places eager to hire an aspiring 19-year-old as a
CEO-in-training so, the next best thing was to hire out as a door-to-door
salesman.
My first gig was
selling magazines. Yeah, I know… but, hey… in a worst-case scenario I could
always read my wares and be entertained. And… yes, there were frustrating times
when I felt very defeated and did do this.
Money was not
flowing at the time; at least not into my pockets, and every lunch time became
a search for the least expensive fare I could find. Along the side streets,
away from the main avenues, there were many small businesses which were managed
from the front door of someone’s house. Usually, these dealt with some sort of homemade
food items.
Meet Don Pedro.
He was in his mid 60’s and, apparently, enjoying a semi-retirement of sorts. Every
day I would walk by him, sitting on his “taburete” (locally made chair of wood and cowhide), dressed in a short sleeves
“Guayabera”, leaning against the outside wall of his house cum establishment.
White hat on and seemingly semi sleep behind his horn-rimmed glasses.
- “Buenas tardes, Don Pedro… ¿Cómo le va? …
-“Good afternoon
Don Pedro… How are you doin’?”
- “Aquí dándole nene”. “¿Cómo van las ventas?”…
-“Hangin’ in
there, my boy”… “How are those sales goin’?”
-“Usted sabe Don Pedro… la
calle está dura.” …
-“You know Don
Pedro, times are tough”.
-“Dímelo a mí nene…”
-“Tell me
something I don’t know my boy”
-“Bueno, que pase un buen
día”
- “Well, have a good
day”
- “Bueno muchacho… que
Dios te bendiga”
-“OK my boy, God
Bless”.
This exchange went
on almost daily. Rare was the noontime when I went by and he was not sitting on
his leaning chair, gently watching the world go by, ready with a needed smile…
One day I noticed
that just inside his front door was a small counter, with some glass windows.
Apparently, he sold something out of his home; funny, I had not noticed before.
The front room was in shadows and this counter was almost like an afterthought;
a place to rest your elbows, an excuse to justify your sitting and waiting for
someone to come by. And not really being worried about whether this someone showed up or not.
- “Don Pedro… no me había
dado cuenta”… “qué vende acá?”
- “Don Pedro… I hadn’t noticed… what do you sell here?”
He looked at me
and smiled…
- “Vendo el alma de mi Puerto
Rico nene” … –“Alcapurrias y Maví”.
- “I sell the
soul of my Puerto Rico my boy” … “Alcapurrias and Maví”.
Every country has
a special dish and Puerto Rico is no different. There are several offerings which
could be called traditional PR cuisine. Yet, for me and many others then (and I hope still), alcapurrias and maví represented the soul of this Caribbean island. The former is based on cassava
dough, with a meat filling and fried as a “croquette”. A little greasy but
incredibly delicious and filling… The latter is a fermented root beverage, served
cold. Incredibly refreshing. And with a very defined flavor.
I bought some
from him and both were so good (and cheap)
that these became my almost daily lunch. Along with a heavy dose of
conversation and shared philosophy, which could only be learned from years of dealing with life's surprises.
One day I came by
and didn’t buy my usual fare.
-“¿Qué pasa nene? … - “No
hay hambre?”
- “What’s up my boy”
… “Not hungry today?”
After thinking about it a
little, I just told him the truth…
- “Hoy no puedo pagar Don
Pedro, las ventas no han caminado”.
- “Today I can’t
pay Don Pedro… sales have not moved”.
He looked at me,
with a twinkle in his eyes, and said:
- “Ven p’acá muchacho…
hay cosas peores en la vida”.
- “Com’ere my boy…
there are worse things in life”.
With that he
proceeded to serve me -flourish and all- a plate of alcapurrias and a glass of
Maví. He said:
- “No te preocupes nene…
aquí hay de esto mientras te haga falta”.
- “Don’t worry my
boy… there is enough of this here as long as you need it”.
For a week, Don Pedro
fed me. Never said a word about payment, never said a word which would have
made me feel bad about my mooching off him and his good will. Always kept the
banter up while I ate and always in the same easy going, twinkle in his eyes tone. At the end of
that week some money came in and he was paid. What was owed.
His kindness…? That
could never be repaid with money.
I was away for a
week and came back to my rounds, looking for Don Pedro on a Monday afternoon.
He was not at his usual post and the door, normally open behind his leaning chair,
was closed. I knocked on the door and a younger version of Don Pedro opened.
- “Hola, ¿está Don Pedro?”
- “Hi, is Don
Pedro in?”
He looked at me
and just said…
- “Lo siento… mi papá murió
súbitamente este fin de semana”
- “I’m sorry; my
dad died suddenly this weekend”.
With an empty
feeling I walked away slowly not fully accepting that this man, who had become
a guiding light of sorts, would no longer be there with his smile and his
friendly banter. My daily sales route, under the bright sun of the Caribbean, had suddenly become unwelcoming and a bit darker.
Don Pedro, alcapurrias and Maví. Indeed, the soul of that beautiful small Caribbean island we
call Puerto Rico.
Be
Well … Be Back!!!
Final Notes:
· Pray
for those who are
fighting an illness which may take them away from their loved ones… Every
request is heard, and counts!!
