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martes, 21 de julio de 2009

Crónicas de un cerebro enfermo XIV.

Saturday, April 4th, 2009

I arrived to Houston, Texas, on Saturday, April 6. We were in the same flight that Carla’s social teacher (Giselle) and classmate (Brandon) took. Their whole family moved to Houston. Indeed, many Puerto Ricans have moved to Texas since there are many jobs in the medical and business fields. I don’t think there will be bacalaitos and alcapurrias any time soon, but as the economy worsen and the flaw keeps going, I will not doubt to see a Puerto Rican parade in Houston within 7 years or so.

Sonia Turner picked us up at the airport and took us to a jazz concert right a way. Her husband is a musician and his band was playing at the Old Oil Times Fair at Humble, Texas. This is a small town that got rich when oil was discovered there, but it declined as they used all the oil available in the area. George Bush Airport is right now the main job resource in the area. People arrive there to go to MD Anderson, the best Cancer Center in the world, and to study at colleges such as Rice and the University of Houston (MD Anderson is part of this University). Now, they make concerts and sell art craft in the Old Oil Times Fair both to remember “the old good days” and make some money through other means. There is oil drilling all over Texas, but Humble is a metaphor of what will follow if the oil dries up. Perhaps, college education, art craft, music, and medical treatment, along with finding ecologically friendly energy resources is the more human way to get out of the economical and ecological mess we are living in right now. It is ironical that this town named the airport in honor of George Bush, the president and father of a president, whose family wealth came out of oil: the beginning and end of Humble’s wealth.

We arrived too late to listen to Brian Turner’s music, but we heard other musicians and met with old friends that I met last year: Joy, whose son has survived brain cancer for over 10 years, and Min, whose daughter began brain cancer treatment around the same time my tumor was discovered. We had lunch at Humble Café, and met there with Pablo, my stepson, Mai, my daughter in law, and Sebastian, our grandchild. They moved to Dallas two months ago, and came here to spend two days together with Jaime and I. They stayed with us at Sonia’s and Brian’s home. I have not seen them since five years ago. Jaime saw them in Ohio around three years ago. Sebastian is in Kindergarten and turned 6 the second of April. He is a very impressive kid and likes the exact things that my own 19-year-old likes: Japanese cartoons, swords, computers, and of course, at this age, all kinds of dinosaurs. I told him that I lost their phone numbers because my original cell was stolen, and he was able to enter the names, last names, and phone numbers of Pablo and Mai, while complaining that he is a big boy now and does not have his own cell phone yet. He found out very quickly how to take photos with my cell, which has a whole key board as a computer do. He even got into the web using my cell, and played brain games. Since Sebastian has never seen the sea, Pablo planned to go the next day to Galveston, so that he can swim a little. We are joining them to enjoy this first experience together.

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