MOTHER,MAMA,AND THE DEMOND BY ORLANDO VICENTE,CUBA mother,mama.and the demond.by orlando vicente
MAMÁ Y EL DEMONIO. SESENTA AÑOS DE PESADILLAS. RELATOS
.: CUENTOS CORTOS COSTU.ORLANDO VICENTE .URUGUAY CUBA . https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07MJZC551/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_NP8NYVTVJZDDA9VG8TST via @amazon
NOW,BLIND.BY ORLANDO VICENTE.URUGUAY
MOTHER MAMA GLORIA. MY HEROINE ·#glaucoma, #blind, #colicos, #cuba, #cuban coffe, #cuban pizzeria, #diabetes mellitus, #guantanamo, #mom punta del este, #river guaso, #uruguay
GUANTANAMO: MAMA GLORIA. MY HEROINE
GUANTÁNAMO: MAMÁ GLORIA. MY HEROINE.
I had the prohibition of Cuba not visiting my relatives for 17 years.
I called Mama Gloria by phone every month.
- How do you feel, mom?
- Barbara, son. And you. How are you doing?
- Macanudo, missing you a lot ...
- Oh, son. Here there is no coffee, no oil, no fresh bread, no flour. Castro has taken everything away from us.
She said with humor. And I warned:
-Mom! look that Security of State can you hear! ...
- I'm old to be afraid of that party of snitches ... Now they are selling us red pea ... They say that they cultivate them secretly in the red lands of Baracoa.
-Okay, Mom. But ... What's new?
- Good. You know that my only condition is that I'm blind ... Your cousin M... died ... of intestinal cancer and your other cousin Fe ... of lung cancer for smoking like a coffee pot. But life goes on, son, we all go to the hollow sooner or later. I speak to God directly and I do not trust the priests anymore. Sometimes I give him a scandal in silence or I apologize, that according to the evil or good that surrounds us.
Mother had suffered the loss of two grown children and my father. She cried at times but said it was the will of the highest and continued with her good humor and joy.
Between my brother and I, we brought her to Uruguay with my youngest brother who had stayed in Cuba. Great emotion to see them I felt after so many years.
-Let's go. No crying Here I am whole and happy to see you both.
We hosted them in the house of my brother and my Uruguayan sister-in-law in front of the beach with the freshness of the sea and the spicy sun of the first days of autumn. Here in this "fashion" area the houses have no number but they have a sign in front that says "The jasmine" or "The eucalyptus" and my brother who had already had many years in Punta named the house, painted on a ornamental stone "Casa Gloria" in honor of Mama.
My little brother told me:
-She says she sees nothing, that she is blind, but she said goodbye to the woman who took care of her and she cleaned the sidewalk with her broom and saw the 8 pm novel in Cuba.
The family watched her and said:
- Grandmother, but you see something.
- Yes. But I see everything as between a cloud.
-So, how do you see the dust in the corridor?
- Do not ask. No more question. And the novel I do not see ... I hear it.
The first time we took her to a large supermarket she said:
-But what a big store! Are not lost among so many shelves? Are there guides here?
We show you all the shopping by walking among the gondolas full of articles and food.
- The Virgin Mary! But how many things that do not need. I have a piece of meat, a plate of beans with rice, I'm satisfied. Ahh. Are those chorizos?
-Yes, mom, of all tastes and sizes- my brother said.
"Well, you my sons buy me some ... that Castro destroyed them and my Galician family and my late mother prepared them in the patio of the house on the edge of the river Guaso and I got used to eating them, I have a craving for chorizos.
A few days later a Galician cousin of my mother made a lunch in her honor at the hotel of which she was the owner.
The table was full of succulent delicacies. Mama without asking permission grabbed a quarter of roasted chicken and ate it with her hands without ceremony. Then a plate of roast pork with vegetables was served. She was taking it out of the past when the dictatorship had deprived her of those foods.
I only ate roast pork and some vegetables because my diabetes had already been discovered and I was under treatment with oral hypoglycaemic agents. I had not said anything to Mom.
The hotel baker had made a peach pie or peaches and a lot of meringue. I could not resist the temptation and I ate a good piece. Suddenly it gave me urgent wishes to go to the bathroom. On the way I found the confectioner who had glaucoma, a bulging eye and looking away as opposed to the otherwise healthy eye. Also my little brother who was going to the bathroom.
Then the unexpected happened, a resounding gas rumbled in space and I ran to the toilet.
Later my little brother, who had witnessed my situation with the baker, told me:
- Compay, throw yourself a gas that the woman straightened her eye and got stuck inside!
I laughed at his words. It was one of the jokes that we later commented on as a family and we all laughed, especially my mother.
That night my mother was awakened by an intestinal colic from the filling that had occurred at the hotel lunch.
I examined her.
-It's an intake mom. You ate too much Your enzymes to digest so much unusual food have fallen asleep. Go now to the bathroom and evacuate.
That's what my dear old woman did and then, relieved, she fell asleep next to my little brother like a girl.
Mom did not like the cartridges packed or in blister of coffee that we bought them:
-This is not coffee, very refined and glazed. I like coffee beans that in Cuba I toasted in a cauldron with brown sugar. That was good coffee. Not this synthetic, be it Colombian or Brazilian. Nothing like a Cuban coffee cup.
After two months of staying at my brother's house and listening to songs from Celia Cruz and Marco Antonio Solís under a parasol on the terrace, my mother had a missing for her house in Cuba and said she wanted to leave. My little brother who had opened a pizzeria next to home about a year ago was also worried about how the business was doing.
And they left.
When I called her days later on the phone she told me with humor:
- There is no coffee, no oil, no rice, just pea of Baracoa.
And I did not see her again until after 17 years they allowed me to visit my family.
I love you so much old lady. She is heroine.
Dr Orlando Vicente Álvarez
see CLIK HERE
https://www.amazon.es/Memorias-niño-guantanamero-Guantanamero-Cuba/dp/1520725884/ref=sr_1_18?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1542808723&sr=1-18&refinements=p_27%3AOrlando+Alvarez
I had the prohibition of Cuba not visiting my relatives for 17 years.
I called Mama Gloria by phone every month.
- How do you feel, mom?
- Barbara, son. And you. How are you doing?
- Macanudo, missing you a lot ...
- Oh, son. Here there is no coffee, no oil, no fresh bread, no flour. Castro has taken everything away from us.
She said with humor. And I warned:
-Mom! look that Security of State can you hear! ...
- I'm old to be afraid of that party of snitches ... Now they are selling us red pea ... They say that they cultivate them secretly in the red lands of Baracoa.
-Okay, Mom. But ... What's new?
- Good. You know that my only condition is that I'm blind ... Your cousin M... died ... of intestinal cancer and your other cousin Fe ... of lung cancer for smoking like a coffee pot. But life goes on, son, we all go to the hollow sooner or later. I speak to God directly and I do not trust the priests anymore. Sometimes I give him a scandal in silence or I apologize, that according to the evil or good that surrounds us.
Mother had suffered the loss of two grown children and my father. She cried at times but said it was the will of the highest and continued with her good humor and joy.
Between my brother and I, we brought her to Uruguay with my youngest brother who had stayed in Cuba. Great emotion to see them I felt after so many years.
-Let's go. No crying Here I am whole and happy to see you both.
We hosted them in the house of my brother and my Uruguayan sister-in-law in front of the beach with the freshness of the sea and the spicy sun of the first days of autumn. Here in this "fashion" area the houses have no number but they have a sign in front that says "The jasmine" or "The eucalyptus" and my brother who had already had many years in Punta named the house, painted on a ornamental stone "Casa Gloria" in honor of Mama.
My little brother told me:
-She says she sees nothing, that she is blind, but she said goodbye to the woman who took care of her and she cleaned the sidewalk with her broom and saw the 8 pm novel in Cuba.
The family watched her and said:
- Grandmother, but you see something.
- Yes. But I see everything as between a cloud.
-So, how do you see the dust in the corridor?
- Do not ask. No more question. And the novel I do not see ... I hear it.
The first time we took her to a large supermarket she said:
-But what a big store! Are not lost among so many shelves? Are there guides here?
We show you all the shopping by walking among the gondolas full of articles and food.
- The Virgin Mary! But how many things that do not need. I have a piece of meat, a plate of beans with rice, I'm satisfied. Ahh. Are those chorizos?
-Yes, mom, of all tastes and sizes- my brother said.
"Well, you my sons buy me some ... that Castro destroyed them and my Galician family and my late mother prepared them in the patio of the house on the edge of the river Guaso and I got used to eating them, I have a craving for chorizos.
A few days later a Galician cousin of my mother made a lunch in her honor at the hotel of which she was the owner.
The table was full of succulent delicacies. Mama without asking permission grabbed a quarter of roasted chicken and ate it with her hands without ceremony. Then a plate of roast pork with vegetables was served. She was taking it out of the past when the dictatorship had deprived her of those foods.
I only ate roast pork and some vegetables because my diabetes had already been discovered and I was under treatment with oral hypoglycaemic agents. I had not said anything to Mom.
The hotel baker had made a peach pie or peaches and a lot of meringue. I could not resist the temptation and I ate a good piece. Suddenly it gave me urgent wishes to go to the bathroom. On the way I found the confectioner who had glaucoma, a bulging eye and looking away as opposed to the otherwise healthy eye. Also my little brother who was going to the bathroom.
Then the unexpected happened, a resounding gas rumbled in space and I ran to the toilet.
Later my little brother, who had witnessed my situation with the baker, told me:
- Compay, throw yourself a gas that the woman straightened her eye and got stuck inside!
I laughed at his words. It was one of the jokes that we later commented on as a family and we all laughed, especially my mother.
That night my mother was awakened by an intestinal colic from the filling that had occurred at the hotel lunch.
I examined her.
-It's an intake mom. You ate too much Your enzymes to digest so much unusual food have fallen asleep. Go now to the bathroom and evacuate.
That's what my dear old woman did and then, relieved, she fell asleep next to my little brother like a girl.
Mom did not like the cartridges packed or in blister of coffee that we bought them:
-This is not coffee, very refined and glazed. I like coffee beans that in Cuba I toasted in a cauldron with brown sugar. That was good coffee. Not this synthetic, be it Colombian or Brazilian. Nothing like a Cuban coffee cup.
After two months of staying at my brother's house and listening to songs from Celia Cruz and Marco Antonio Solís under a parasol on the terrace, my mother had a missing for her house in Cuba and said she wanted to leave. My little brother who had opened a pizzeria next to home about a year ago was also worried about how the business was doing.
And they left.
When I called her days later on the phone she told me with humor:
- There is no coffee, no oil, no rice, just pea of Baracoa.
And I did not see her again until after 17 years they allowed me to visit my family.
I love you so much old lady. She is heroine.
Dr Orlando Vicente Álvarez
see CLIK HERE
https://www.amazon.es/Memorias-niño-guantanamero-Guantanamero-Cuba/dp/1520725884/ref=sr_1_18?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1542808723&sr=1-18&refinements=p_27%3AOrlando+Alvarez
SATURDAY, MAY 11, 2019
TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 2018
GUANTANAMO: MAMA GLORIA. MY HEROINE
GUANTÁNAMO: MOMÁ GLORIA. MY HEROINE.
I had the prohibition of Cuba not visiting my relatives for 17 years.
I called Mama Gloria by phone every month.
- How do you feel, mom?
- Barbara, son. And you. How are you doing?
- Macanudo, missing you a lot ...
- Oh, son. Here there is no coffee, no oil, no fresh bread, no flour. Castro has taken everything away from us.
She said with humor. And I warned:
-Mom! look that Security of State can you hear! ...
- I'm old to be afraid of that party of snitches ... Now they are selling us red pea ... They say that they cultivate them secretly in the red lands of Baracoa.
-Okay, Mom. But ... What's new?
- Good. You know that my only condition is that I'm blind ... Your cousin M... died ... of intestinal cancer and your other cousin Fe ... of lung cancer for smoking like a coffee pot. But life goes on, son, we all go to the hollow sooner or later. I speak to God directly and I do not trust the priests anymore. Sometimes I give him a scandal in silence or I apologize, that according to the evil or good that surrounds us.
Mother had suffered the loss of two grown children and my father. She cried at times but said it was the will of the highest and continued with her good humor and joy.
Between my brother and I, we brought her to Uruguay with my youngest brother who had stayed in Cuba. Great emotion to see them I felt after so many years.
-Let's go. No crying Here I am whole and happy to see you both.
We hosted them in the house of my brother and my Uruguayan sister-in-law in front of the beach with the freshness of the sea and the spicy sun of the first days of autumn. Here in this "fashion" area the houses have no number but they have a sign in front that says "The jasmine" or "The eucalyptus" and my brother who had already had many years in Punta named the house, painted on a ornamental stone "Casa Gloria" in honor of Mama.
My little brother told me:
-She says she sees nothing, that she is blind, but she said goodbye to the woman who took care of her and she cleaned the sidewalk with her broom and saw the 8 pm novel in Cuba.
The family watched her and said:
- Grandmother, but you see something.
- Yes. But I see everything as between a cloud.
-So, how do you see the dust in the corridor?
- Do not ask. No more question. And the novel I do not see ... I hear it.
The first time we took her to a large supermarket she said:
-But what a big store! Are not lost among so many shelves? Are there guides here?
We show you all the shopping by walking among the gondolas full of articles and food.
- The Virgin Mary! But how many things that do not need. I have a piece of meat, a plate of beans with rice, I'm satisfied. Ahh. Are those chorizos?
-Yes, mom, of all tastes and sizes- my brother said.
"Well, you my sons buy me some ... that Castro destroyed them and my Galician family and my late mother prepared them in the patio of the house on the edge of the river Guaso and I got used to eating them, I have a craving for chorizos.
A few days later a Galician cousin of my mother made a lunch in her honor at the hotel of which she was the owner.
The table was full of succulent delicacies. Mama without asking permission grabbed a quarter of roasted chicken and ate it with her hands without ceremony. Then a plate of roast pork with vegetables was served. She was taking it out of the past when the dictatorship had deprived her of those foods.
I only ate roast pork and some vegetables because my diabetes had already been discovered and I was under treatment with oral hypoglycaemic agents. I had not said anything to Mom.
The hotel baker had made a peach pie or peaches and a lot of meringue. I could not resist the temptation and I ate a good piece. Suddenly it gave me urgent wishes to go to the bathroom. On the way I found the confectioner who had glaucoma, a bulging eye and looking away as opposed to the otherwise healthy eye. Also my little brother who was going to the bathroom.
Then the unexpected happened, a resounding gas rumbled in space and I ran to the toilet.
Later my little brother, who had witnessed my situation with the baker, told me:
- Compay, throw yourself a gas that the woman straightened her eye and got stuck inside!
I laughed at his words. It was one of the jokes that we later commented on as a family and we all laughed, especially my mother.
That night my mother was awakened by an intestinal colic from the filling that had occurred at the hotel lunch.
I examined her.
-It's an intake mom. You ate too much Your enzymes to digest so much unusual food have fallen asleep. Go now to the bathroom and evacuate.
That's what my dear old woman did and then, relieved, she fell asleep next to my little brother like a girl.
Mom did not like the cartridges packed or in blister of coffee that we bought them:
-This is not coffee, very refined and glazed. I like coffee beans that in Cuba I toasted in a cauldron with brown sugar. That was good coffee. Not this synthetic, be it Colombian or Brazilian. Nothing like a Cuban coffee cup.
After two months of staying at my brother's house and listening to songs from Celia Cruz and Marco Antonio Solís under a parasol on the terrace, my mother had a missing for her house in Cuba and said she wanted to leave. My little brother who had opened a pizzeria next to home about a year ago was also worried about how the business was doing.
And they left.
When I called her days later on the phone she told me with humor:
- There is no coffee, no oil, no rice, just pea of Baracoa.
And I did not see her again until after 17 years they allowed me to visit my family.
I love you so much old lady. She is heroine.
Orlando Vicente Álvarez
see
https://www.amazon.es/Memorias-niño-guantanamero-Guantanamero-Cuba/dp/1520725884/ref=sr_1_18?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1542808723&sr=1-18&refinements=p_27%3AOrlando+Alvarez
I had the prohibition of Cuba not visiting my relatives for 17 years.
I called Mama Gloria by phone every month.
- How do you feel, mom?
- Barbara, son. And you. How are you doing?
- Macanudo, missing you a lot ...
- Oh, son. Here there is no coffee, no oil, no fresh bread, no flour. Castro has taken everything away from us.
She said with humor. And I warned:
-Mom! look that Security of State can you hear! ...
- I'm old to be afraid of that party of snitches ... Now they are selling us red pea ... They say that they cultivate them secretly in the red lands of Baracoa.
-Okay, Mom. But ... What's new?
- Good. You know that my only condition is that I'm blind ... Your cousin M... died ... of intestinal cancer and your other cousin Fe ... of lung cancer for smoking like a coffee pot. But life goes on, son, we all go to the hollow sooner or later. I speak to God directly and I do not trust the priests anymore. Sometimes I give him a scandal in silence or I apologize, that according to the evil or good that surrounds us.
Mother had suffered the loss of two grown children and my father. She cried at times but said it was the will of the highest and continued with her good humor and joy.
Between my brother and I, we brought her to Uruguay with my youngest brother who had stayed in Cuba. Great emotion to see them I felt after so many years.
-Let's go. No crying Here I am whole and happy to see you both.
We hosted them in the house of my brother and my Uruguayan sister-in-law in front of the beach with the freshness of the sea and the spicy sun of the first days of autumn. Here in this "fashion" area the houses have no number but they have a sign in front that says "The jasmine" or "The eucalyptus" and my brother who had already had many years in Punta named the house, painted on a ornamental stone "Casa Gloria" in honor of Mama.
My little brother told me:
-She says she sees nothing, that she is blind, but she said goodbye to the woman who took care of her and she cleaned the sidewalk with her broom and saw the 8 pm novel in Cuba.
The family watched her and said:
- Grandmother, but you see something.
- Yes. But I see everything as between a cloud.
-So, how do you see the dust in the corridor?
- Do not ask. No more question. And the novel I do not see ... I hear it.
The first time we took her to a large supermarket she said:
-But what a big store! Are not lost among so many shelves? Are there guides here?
We show you all the shopping by walking among the gondolas full of articles and food.
- The Virgin Mary! But how many things that do not need. I have a piece of meat, a plate of beans with rice, I'm satisfied. Ahh. Are those chorizos?
-Yes, mom, of all tastes and sizes- my brother said.
"Well, you my sons buy me some ... that Castro destroyed them and my Galician family and my late mother prepared them in the patio of the house on the edge of the river Guaso and I got used to eating them, I have a craving for chorizos.
A few days later a Galician cousin of my mother made a lunch in her honor at the hotel of which she was the owner.
The table was full of succulent delicacies. Mama without asking permission grabbed a quarter of roasted chicken and ate it with her hands without ceremony. Then a plate of roast pork with vegetables was served. She was taking it out of the past when the dictatorship had deprived her of those foods.
I only ate roast pork and some vegetables because my diabetes had already been discovered and I was under treatment with oral hypoglycaemic agents. I had not said anything to Mom.
The hotel baker had made a peach pie or peaches and a lot of meringue. I could not resist the temptation and I ate a good piece. Suddenly it gave me urgent wishes to go to the bathroom. On the way I found the confectioner who had glaucoma, a bulging eye and looking away as opposed to the otherwise healthy eye. Also my little brother who was going to the bathroom.
Then the unexpected happened, a resounding gas rumbled in space and I ran to the toilet.
Later my little brother, who had witnessed my situation with the baker, told me:
- Compay, throw yourself a gas that the woman straightened her eye and got stuck inside!
I laughed at his words. It was one of the jokes that we later commented on as a family and we all laughed, especially my mother.
That night my mother was awakened by an intestinal colic from the filling that had occurred at the hotel lunch.
I examined her.
-It's an intake mom. You ate too much Your enzymes to digest so much unusual food have fallen asleep. Go now to the bathroom and evacuate.
That's what my dear old woman did and then, relieved, she fell asleep next to my little brother like a girl.
Mom did not like the cartridges packed or in blister of coffee that we bought them:
-This is not coffee, very refined and glazed. I like coffee beans that in Cuba I toasted in a cauldron with brown sugar. That was good coffee. Not this synthetic, be it Colombian or Brazilian. Nothing like a Cuban coffee cup.
After two months of staying at my brother's house and listening to songs from Celia Cruz and Marco Antonio Solís under a parasol on the terrace, my mother had a missing for her house in Cuba and said she wanted to leave. My little brother who had opened a pizzeria next to home about a year ago was also worried about how the business was doing.
And they left.
When I called her days later on the phone she told me with humor:
- There is no coffee, no oil, no rice, just pea of Baracoa.
And I did not see her again until after 17 years they allowed me to visit my family.
I love you so much old lady. She is heroine.
Orlando Vicente Álvarez
see
https://www.amazon.es/Memorias-niño-guantanamero-Guantanamero-Cuba/dp/1520725884/ref=sr_1_18?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1542808723&sr=1-18&refinements=p_27%3AOrlando+Alvarez
Tuesday, December 11, 2018
MAMA AND THE DEMON
https://www.amazon.com/Memorias-niño-guantanamero-Guantanamero-Spanish/dp/1520725884 MAMA AND THE DEMON.
It had been 17 years since the Cuban government allowed me to travel to Cuba. Except for the vacations that Mama and brother had spent in Punta del Este and the visit that my wife had made to my daughter - who was already with me over the year, they gave me the go-ahead for the new measures of Raúl Castro and finally I took the Cuban passport with a simple piece of paper that authorized me to travel to my land.
My daughter and I made the trip together. Many tears and joy among all at 2 in the night when we arrived in the city of Guaso.
My son, whom I had not seen since he was four, was waiting for the car that would bring us, watching, parked in the corner. It was great emotion of both of us to see each other. He had become a handsome young man, taller than me, athletic and beautiful.
In the following days he gave me a kiss on the cheeks before going to his studies and also when he returned in the afternoon. He was moved by my nick for fatherly love and sat in the corridor of the house to ask me about Uruguay.
But the real protagonist of this story was my mother. No crying, just joking and happy for our rejoiced.
In the afternoon, when the leftovers covered the corridor of her house, we both sat on separate scales or rockers and she told me stories of her ancestors and our childhood. I had left in Montevideo the first book I wrote "Memories of a Guantanamo child" that still had some gaps to fill and Mama updated me with her memories because she has a prodigious memory of which, in part, I inherited.
One Sunday, when the shadows of the people grew longer, a parade of ladies from the neighborhood went to their respective religious congregations.
- There comes Hortensia, the Seventh-day Adventist.
- And how do you know her if you do not see, Mom?
- I know her because of her faltering steps and because it is the time when they open her temple. But leave it to me. I know how to handle her.
-Good afternoon G ... .Ahh. Is this your son who came from abroad?
-Yes, the same one you saw and fit.
- Good. A pleasure. I am Seven Day adventist, and I go to my Church. Do you know the Lord, Jesus Christ, who will save us from the final destruction in the seventh age?
I remained silent and let Mom talk.
- He already knows the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. If he almost studied a few years for a priest and at the last minute decided for medicine.
- But you do not know the true Lord who will bring you salvation when the final hecatomb comes
.-I do not know much about that.- said Mama- I can only tell you that it is like a reincarnation of the devil. At night his eyes turn red as Evil. He gives us terror but we have become accustomed ...
-If it's from the Catholic Church, it must be from the devil. ¡Hallelujah!
And Hortensia hurried the step terrified but excited to tell her sisters and the Pastor, of her encounter with a spawn of Satan.
Mom and I could not help but laugh. I said:
-Mom. See that there is respect for all religions ...
- Come on, son. If they do not have a sense of humor, the Lord has not visited her yet.
As next door my little brother had a pizeria, with fruit smoothie and soft drink. Many people gathered to eat and the ladies of the neighborhood made a stopover to cool off with a soft drink with ice, then they noticed our presence.
A woman already in years but strong still discovered us.
- Ahh. G ... You are relieving yourself of the tremendous heat that it makes ... And that handsome man who is by your side. Is it one of your children?
I shut up. Leaving everything to Mom.
.- Yes. It's my son who came from Uruguay to visit us.
_ A nice taste. I go to the Pentecostal Church.
- Ahh... That's good.-I said with precaution.
- And there are a lot of Pentecostals in Uruguay?
- Yes I believe. What there are is many Mormons and Catholic Churches
.- Mormons? And what kind of creed do they follow?
-A very strange one. They believe in Christ and discovered in a cave some gold plates that they added to the Holy Bible.
-Ahh ... What horror! The Holy Scriptures ... Around here in Cuba there is not. What there is is several Catholic churches. The great Babylon ...
-Respect my son who is Catholic.
.- But he has not yet known the strength of the Holy Spirit.
Mom added:
-He is almost a priest but then he devoted himself to medicine.
._ How good. First doctor than catholic ...
- Look. I do not know but on dark nights some horns come out like Beelzebub, there are no eyes to resist him, and I am her mother. I think it's the reincarnated Devil himself ...
- Hallelujah. May the Holy Spirit enters into it and purify it. For the spirit there are no impossible ...
- Do not bother him with your words. He will incarnate in you and there will be no God to save you.
-Hallelujah!
The woman without saying goodbye hurried her step and left without saying goodbye.
A few minutes later an older mulatto came with a red upper prosthesis and then white pieces. The man was a widower and was selling lottery clandestinely to survive the poor pension that he earned.
_ Ohh. -He said to me- finally we have you back. How do you like the country now?
I do not answer. Just greet him with a hand gesture.
_ How's the business Eduardo? -Said my mother.
- There. There. People do not have money but for the lottery they still have the old illusion of earning a million. Hehehe
-Add me ten pesos to my name for the next throw.-Said Mama.
The old man took out a small notebook and placed Mama's bet,
.- And where are you going now Eduardo?
-A touch of saints, with a lot of rum, bongoes, pretty mulattas, dances and purifications of evil spirits.
I smiled with a jaw and said:
- Well, I'm going with you to enjoy tonight and remember the late Jélica who went to bembé next to my house when I was a child. I hope God will forgive me for this sin.
And I went after Eduardo as a young man who wanted to remember his childhood and youth.
Orlando Vicente Álvarez
https://www.amazon.com/Memorias-niño-guantanamero-Guantanamero-Spanish/dp/1520725884
It had been 17 years since the Cuban government allowed me to travel to Cuba. Except for the vacations that Mama and brother had spent in Punta del Este and the visit that my wife had made to my daughter - who was already with me over the year, they gave me the go-ahead for the new measures of Raúl Castro and finally I took the Cuban passport with a simple piece of paper that authorized me to travel to my land.
My daughter and I made the trip together. Many tears and joy among all at 2 in the night when we arrived in the city of Guaso.
My son, whom I had not seen since he was four, was waiting for the car that would bring us, watching, parked in the corner. It was great emotion of both of us to see each other. He had become a handsome young man, taller than me, athletic and beautiful.
In the following days he gave me a kiss on the cheeks before going to his studies and also when he returned in the afternoon. He was moved by my nick for fatherly love and sat in the corridor of the house to ask me about Uruguay.
But the real protagonist of this story was my mother. No crying, just joking and happy for our rejoiced.
In the afternoon, when the leftovers covered the corridor of her house, we both sat on separate scales or rockers and she told me stories of her ancestors and our childhood. I had left in Montevideo the first book I wrote "Memories of a Guantanamo child" that still had some gaps to fill and Mama updated me with her memories because she has a prodigious memory of which, in part, I inherited.
One Sunday, when the shadows of the people grew longer, a parade of ladies from the neighborhood went to their respective religious congregations.
- There comes Hortensia, the Seventh-day Adventist.
- And how do you know her if you do not see, Mom?
- I know her because of her faltering steps and because it is the time when they open her temple. But leave it to me. I know how to handle her.
-Good afternoon G ... .Ahh. Is this your son who came from abroad?
-Yes, the same one you saw and fit.
- Good. A pleasure. I am Seven Day adventist, and I go to my Church. Do you know the Lord, Jesus Christ, who will save us from the final destruction in the seventh age?
I remained silent and let Mom talk.
- He already knows the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. If he almost studied a few years for a priest and at the last minute decided for medicine.
- But you do not know the true Lord who will bring you salvation when the final hecatomb comes
.-I do not know much about that.- said Mama- I can only tell you that it is like a reincarnation of the devil. At night his eyes turn red as Evil. He gives us terror but we have become accustomed ...
-If it's from the Catholic Church, it must be from the devil. ¡Hallelujah!
And Hortensia hurried the step terrified but excited to tell her sisters and the Pastor, of her encounter with a spawn of Satan.
Mom and I could not help but laugh. I said:
-Mom. See that there is respect for all religions ...
- Come on, son. If they do not have a sense of humor, the Lord has not visited her yet.
As next door my little brother had a pizeria, with fruit smoothie and soft drink. Many people gathered to eat and the ladies of the neighborhood made a stopover to cool off with a soft drink with ice, then they noticed our presence.
A woman already in years but strong still discovered us.
- Ahh. G ... You are relieving yourself of the tremendous heat that it makes ... And that handsome man who is by your side. Is it one of your children?
I shut up. Leaving everything to Mom.
.- Yes. It's my son who came from Uruguay to visit us.
_ A nice taste. I go to the Pentecostal Church.
- Ahh... That's good.-I said with precaution.
- And there are a lot of Pentecostals in Uruguay?
- Yes I believe. What there are is many Mormons and Catholic Churches
.- Mormons? And what kind of creed do they follow?
-A very strange one. They believe in Christ and discovered in a cave some gold plates that they added to the Holy Bible.
-Ahh ... What horror! The Holy Scriptures ... Around here in Cuba there is not. What there is is several Catholic churches. The great Babylon ...
-Respect my son who is Catholic.
.- But he has not yet known the strength of the Holy Spirit.
Mom added:
-He is almost a priest but then he devoted himself to medicine.
._ How good. First doctor than catholic ...
- Look. I do not know but on dark nights some horns come out like Beelzebub, there are no eyes to resist him, and I am her mother. I think it's the reincarnated Devil himself ...
- Hallelujah. May the Holy Spirit enters into it and purify it. For the spirit there are no impossible ...
- Do not bother him with your words. He will incarnate in you and there will be no God to save you.
-Hallelujah!
The woman without saying goodbye hurried her step and left without saying goodbye.
A few minutes later an older mulatto came with a red upper prosthesis and then white pieces. The man was a widower and was selling lottery clandestinely to survive the poor pension that he earned.
_ Ohh. -He said to me- finally we have you back. How do you like the country now?
I do not answer. Just greet him with a hand gesture.
_ How's the business Eduardo? -Said my mother.
- There. There. People do not have money but for the lottery they still have the old illusion of earning a million. Hehehe
-Add me ten pesos to my name for the next throw.-Said Mama.
The old man took out a small notebook and placed Mama's bet,
.- And where are you going now Eduardo?
-A touch of saints, with a lot of rum, bongoes, pretty mulattas, dances and purifications of evil spirits.
I smiled with a jaw and said:
- Well, I'm going with you to enjoy tonight and remember the late Jélica who went to bembé next to my house when I was a child. I hope God will forgive me for this sin.
And I went after Eduardo as a young man who wanted to remember his childhood and youth.
Orlando Vicente Álvarez
https://www.amazon.com/Memorias-niño-guantanamero-Guantanamero-Spanish/dp/1520725884
Wednesday, November 17, 2021
CALIFORNIA DREAMING ,BY ORLANDO VICENTE
MAMA CASH ELLIOT -Second Part.
Mama Cash Eliot from the set of 60 "the Mamas and the Papas"
Eliot, famous for her sense of humor and optimism, was considered by some to be the most charismatic member of the band; her unmistakable voice was a great contribution to her triumph. She is remembered by her in the classic songs California Dreaming, Monday, Monday and Words of Love, and particularly for the single Dream to Little Dream of Me, Elliot's version is known to be a ballad, while almost all Dream recordings a Little Dream of Me (including one by Nat King Cole), were fast songs. This song had actually been written in 1931 on purpose for the clubs of that time.
They continued recording to fulfill their contractual obligations with the label until their last album was released in 1971. According to the most controversial versions, the abuse of drugs, jealousy, alcoholism and weight problems of Cash Elliot were the triggers of the Subsequent rupture of the group.
On the other hand, the singer wanted to become independent from her classmates to start a brilliant (albeit brief) solo career.
At the height of her solo career in 1974, Cash Elliot made two weeks of sold-out shows at the London Palladium in the United Kingdom.She phoned Michelle Phillips after finishing the concert on July 28, totally euphoric, and told him that she had received big ovations every night. The singer retired to rest later and a few hours later she died while she slept, at the premature age of 32 years. Forensic sources declared that her death was due to a sudden heart attack.
Controversial death
Although the official cause of death was attributed to a devastating heart attack, a repeated urban myth indicated that Elliot died of suffocation by a ham sandwich sandwich. The story began after the discovery of her body and was based on an initial speculation of the media. The police had told the press that they found a half-eaten sandwich in their room and that it could have been the culprit of her death, even though the autopsy had not yet taken place.
However, post mortem examinations concluded that Elliot had actually died from a heart attack, and no food remains were found in her trachea. But the story that he had choked has persisted in years after her death. On the other hand, the doctors did not find traces of the presence of any drug that could cause this cardiac crisis.
Although he was not known to have any major health problems or drug use in the days leading up to the incident, there are several reasons why the singer died so young, including the stress caused by her hectic pace of life, inadequate nutrition and, above all, excessive obesity.
Although some sources claimed that his death was due to a myocardial infarction or heart failure, her official death certificate attributed the fact to a "fatty degeneration of the myocardium due to obesity," a form of steatosis.
Anthony Kiedis of Red Hot Chili Peppers quoted The Mamas & the Papas and Elliot, especially as an influence, in an interview for Rolling Stone magazine. He said: "There have been times when I have been very down and misplaced in my life, and the sound of her voice has a kind of sense that has given me a reason to want to move on."
Boy George and Lang also cited her as an influence. George described her as "the greatest white female singer that has ever existed." "Beth Ditto, the singer of the band Gossip, has called Elliot, as an inspiration in both music and fashion, saying:" I really wanted to sound like Mama Cash growing. "
Since her death, Elliot and the circumstances surrounding her have been the target of numerous jokes in comedy routines, movies and songs; by the hand of artists like Frank Zappa, Adam Sandler, Denis Leary, Mike Myers (in his first Austin Powers movie),
In 1999, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame included Cash Elliot and his bandmates from The Mamas and The Papas. In the absence of the singer, her daughter Owen represented her and accepted her posthumous award. By that time, she was the only deceased member, followed later by John Phillips (2001) and then Denny Doherty (2007).
Four years later to the death of Cash, the drummer Keith Moon of The Who would die in the same place and in quite similar circumstances. Not only happened in the same place, 12th floor of 9 Curzon Place, but also in the same bed and at the same age.
Mama Cash Elliot was a sweet-voiced Jewish woman with a good record and that was demonstrated when she separated from Los Mamas and the Papas and started an independent career. Her voice full of matias if lullaby a growing baby, will endure as the singer who still had much to give the world with her talent and charisma, but we all remember her as "the cheerful fat girl who stood out in the group" and we pay little attention to her affectionate voice, sweet and exalted.
ORLAND VICENTE ALVAREZ
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