THE REFLECTION EFFECT

I must say this year has been one of the most difficult years I had in a very long time; I should add, that it has been for many people as well.
I hope my life experiences, good and bad, help me to grow as a better human being.
I believe part of growing old should include a better understanding about life as a whole, that no matter how hard things become you are able to overcome hardship in order to renew expectations so you can keep going forward.
One aspect of this transition is reflected in how you deal with others.
It is so refreshing for the soul to encounter people who irradiate how happy they feel as soon you engage in a conversation with them. As imperfect as you are, they are able to look at you in a very positive way, trying not to judge you but to trust you, not to assume your pain but to kindly embrace you, not to make you feel broken but to make you feel worthy.
If we do not try to hug each other emotionally, then, we better should not; because by doing the opposite we will be reflecting our own pain onto others in a misguided way.

RECORDANDO A MATILDE ELENA LOPEZ

Cuando recuerdo a la Doctora Matilde Elena López lo único que me viene a la memoria son áquellas cátedras que nos impartía en clase. Era un verdadero placer el sentarse y escuchar aquella mujer de vasto conocimiento intelectual y una sensibilidad social admirable. Sus clases no eran aburridas lecciones de historia literaria sino un recuento vívido de su vida con todas sus experiencias y anécdotas. Ella contaba historias de Claudia Lars como si aquella enorme poetisa estuviera ahí con nosotros.
Me impartió la asignatura de Literatura Universal, entre otras tantas, y usamos como texto de cátedra su libro el cual todavía guardo y el cual lleva una dedicatoria en la primera página la cual dice: A mi dilecto alumno.
Me enteré que ella había fallecido hace ya varios meses en El Salvador.
No puedo más que agradecer a esta noble mujer por haber inculcado en muchos de sus pupilos ese amor por las artes y por la literatura. Mi admiración y mi respeto por este gigante de las letras vivirá conmigo por siempre.
Gracias Doctora por todas sus enseñanzas!
Gracias por haberme hecho amar las letras de la forma en que las amo hoy!
Gracias por demostrarme que una vida dedicada a las artes de la manera que usted lo hizo, es una vida digna de vivir!
Usted no ha muerto Doctora, aunque ya no está aquí con nosotros, su espíritu siempre brillará en cada uno de los que tuvimos la dicha y el privilegio de conocerla y de ser sus alumnos.

Y SIN EMBARGO

A pesar de todas las querellas
Y de todas las adversidades
A pesar de todo lo que duele,
Y sin embargo tu todavía me sonríes.

No importa lo bastardo maldiciente
Y de que valen las espinas relucientes
A pesar de las cicatrices de mi alma,
Y sin embargo tu siempre me acompañas.

Que la malafortuna se embriague conmigo
Y que lo feo pretenda arrebatarme el día
Que este trago amargo me baje muy despacio,
Y sin embargo sigo enamorado de mi vida.

BEAUTIFUL WOMAN

How sweet your smell is to me
When I make your body tremble
And everything you possess
Is given to me at that moment.

I wonder lost in your sea
Of sensual curves that resemble
The sacred in which I obsess
Leaving all things to abandonment.

That is how in my dreams I see
My woman who does not dissemble.
A beautiful woman to whom I profess
My eternal love and adorement.

THE MEMORABLE GAME

It is like I am there once again!
The biggest event in my soccer career!
I can still feel the breeze whistle trough the tall trees. I can still feel that scorching sun in that fateful afternoon. I can hear my name being mentioned in the radio by Mike Centeno, the sport broadcaster in charge of narrating the game.
I have to take you back so you can understand all my excitement.
In those days I was a 15 year old boy living in the city of Usulutan in the east part of the country. My aunt and my uncle were taking care of me. He was such a sport buff, all I know about sports I owe it to him. By that time it was common to have juvenile soccer tournaments among the several communities within the city, and my uncle was in charge of one of those teams, of course.
He had gone to many commercial Establishments asking for sponsorship so we could buy the uniforms in exchange for displaying the name of the business in our jerseys.
He was involved in the board which control those tournaments; even he got in touch with the local radio so the schedules could be announced in the sport programs.
My uncle is a witty man but also he posses a quick temper. I used to come along to the board meetings with him. Once, we were there and when he was trying to write down the schedules for the following matches in that weekend, the president of the board read them so fast that he couldn't write them all down. So, very politely he asked the president to repeat them. The man replied very harshly that he had read them once and he was not going to repeat them again.
I remember what happened next very vividly. My uncle stood up in front of everybody, like ten or fifteen men around the table, and he shouted to that man:
"You can grab that piece of paper, make it a roll, and shove it in your ass!"
All I can say is that he was banned from those meetings since that time.
To make a team takes a lot of preparation and tryouts. Many kids wanted to be part of the team, but you have to be invited and then play to show that you are worth to be selected after. We went to many places to play and get ready, and I came to all those games, of course my uncle was in charge and I got to play every time in many positions including goalie.
The teams in the "A League", the professional teams from the different provinces, had established that as a pregame or preliminary game before the big boys start playing, it was to be a game between juvenile teams. Our team was selected to play in one of those occasions. We were so excited because we were going to have the opportunity not only to play in the big stadium but also the game was going to be broadcast in the radio.
Now let's get back at that precise moment when my name was announced in the radio.
I was coming in as a replacement during the first half and the announcer said:
"Now, with the number 12, coming into the game is Jose Avalos."
I was there! sitting in one of the bleachers, watching another kid using my name.
What happened was that I never made the team, even though my uncle was the owner of the team. What he did was to use my birth certificate to register another boy who was way pass the age limit, so he could play in the team instead.

THE END

I LEARNED SOMETHING NEW TODAY

I learned something new today,
That life is a continuous journey
And we can not stop idling on the way
For we could be left behind.

I realized life is not my wish today,
But a series of tryouts and rehearsals
With all the bumps and stumbles galore
That make us cry and laugh along the way.

I grew up a bit more today
When contemplating my own existence
Came to the irremediable conclusion
That we do or undo our own history.

I looked at myself today
And found out there is no road to travel
Only the path left behind
Which we will never step on again....

SOLO INTENTO

Solo intento absorber estas malas horas
Hasta quedar ebrio y vomitar lo que me hace daño.
Quiero que mi alma quede sedada del dolor
Y mis angustias rompan a tirajas lo que queda de mi ser.

Solo intento amanecer mañana para alzar mi mirada
Y enfrentar esa luz del sol que quema mis pupilas
Para forzarme a ver el nuevo día palpitante
Sin saber adonde, o para que existo nuevamente.

Solo intento ser un hombre con sentido de valer
Sabiendo que los cuervos infernales huirán despavoridos.
Solo quiero saber que lo que atesoro en mi corazón
vale lo suficiente para continuar por esta vereda.

PARA YUDELKA

El amor, los sentimientos, lo hermoso, lo tierno.....
Los puedo ver en tu mirada,
Pareces una niña esperando a ser acariciada,
Una musa inquietante con sus versos adornando tu falda,
Una estrella alumbrando lo mas oscuro de mi alma.
El mundo es mas bello porque existes tú,
A los que amas se sienten mas amados,
A los que te conocen, más dichosos,
Y a los que no te aprecian, desaventurados.....
Mira al cielo preciosa flor de madrugada,
Que el rocío quiere adornar tu cara alborozada
Y la fragancia del amanecer campestre
Quiere robar tus suspiros soñadores.......

"VUELA ESTA CANCION......."

Así empieza una bella canción de Serrat
Para recordar a una amada.
Yo le doy vuelta a esa canción y la aplico
A mi propia vida.
Vuela esta canción para ti mi vida, mi propia vida
Que a pesar de todos los trajines y enseres
Ha vuelto a mi como una amada lista para besar.
Es curioso como los seres humanos siempre siguen luchando
A pesar de todo lo que duele y todo lo que es feo.
Gracias a mi vida que sigue ahí esperando por mi
como una dulce amante a la espera de su amor.

THE POWER OF TIME

It is really amazing
How we, human beings, go trough this earth
Loving, learning, growing, and
In the middle of it, we manage, with or without
Any intention, hurt those we love as well.
Time gives us a chance to evolve emotionally
It allows us to look back and wish we did better.
The past never left, it was always there.
The past teaches us to embrace the good and the bad
So at the end we end up wiser and hopefully.... better.

THE COMING

Wow! it's really happening!
All that big load of bad things at the same time
And then, you just stand there
To receive it with all your open face!
Makes you realize how far we have grown,
How numb your soul feels,
How stoic our attitude turns.
It's a sign of the coming,
The coming to an age.
An age of being able to swallow
all the bitterness without frowning your face.
Bless all these feelings of acceptance
Of a life that never was fair to begin with;
But we did not realize it until now.
Wow!

BROWN COWS AND CHOCOLATE MILK

I don't know exactly how to start this next story. So I just going to tell you.
I have two children, Jonathan and Melissa. I guess the best part of being a parent is when you watch them grow up since they are very little because this is the time when you can appreciate better their innocence. My daughter loves milk, and she loves chocolate milk more. So one day, few years back, when we were visiting relatives in El Salvador, we went to a farm to enjoy the day and see all the farm animals roaming freely on the ground. In Canada, unless you live in a farm you have to visit a fair to see these animals in cages or in enclosed areas. Anyway, while Jonathan was busy chasing the chickens and ducks, Melissa was very close to the cows. I approached her and asked which one she liked the most. She said: "I like the brown cows of course, Daddy".
I reply asking why she preferred the brown cows.
And then she said: "Daddy! Everybody knows that from brown cows come chocolate milk!"
I just stood there without knowing what to say and holding back my laughter, I smiled and said: "Of course darling, everybody knows that."

EL RETRATO DE MI PADRE

Lo que llevaré impregnado en mi alma son aquellos tiempos que compusieron mi niñez junto con mis dos hermanos menores.
Ahora que somos hombres y tenemos nuestras propias familias entendemos mejor el porqué crecimos siendo hombres honestos, trabajadores y sin vicios. Es sencillamente el ejemplo que recibimos de nuestros padres.
Yo en particular puedo apreciar ahora al mirar atrás todo lo que aprendí de manera subconciente al observar la conducta de mi padre. Un hombre de familia humilde, sin educación formal, solamente con un oficio de platero, el cual había heredado de mi abuelo. Mi padre siempre hablaba con orgullo de mi abuelo. Cuando íbamos a la iglesia siempre nos deteníamos a admirar la imagen de la Virgen de los Pobres, quien era la patrona de nuestra ciudad, y quien lucía en su cabeza una hermosa corona de oro. Mi padre siempre nos recordaba que era mi abuelo el que había hecho aquella corona. Mi padre se quemó sus ojos haciendo toda clase de prendas de oro, trabajando en un taller como empleado. A pesar que ganaba muy poco, cuando era día de pago nosotros sabíamos que íbamos a recibir dinero de él. Ese gesto me caló mucho al saber y entender que yo tenía un papá generoso.
No recuerdo haber visto a mi padre consumir alcohol. La única vez que lo ví borracho fué en la iglesia, cuando murió mi abuela y él lloró sin consuelo en los hombros de mi madre. Solo el alcohol pudo sacarle las lágrimas entonces.
Es muy común en algunas culturas que el hombre tenga hijos afuera del matrimonio.
Mis hermanos y yo nunca supimos de otros hermanos por afuera porque mi padre nunca tuvo otros hijos con otra mujer. Por eso no es de sorprenderse que nosotros no tenemos hijos afuera de nuestros hogares también.
Hoy mi padre está en la casa con mi madre, ya no trabaja porque ya no puede, está ciego por el glaucoma y su mente ha empezado a jugarle trucos. A pesar de todo hoy me miro a mí mismo y miro a mis hermanos y puedo decir con algarabía en mi corazón y gratitud en el alma de que nosotros somos el retrato de mi padre.

FIN

THE PORTRAIT OF MY FATHER

What I will have engraved in my soul are those times that forged my childhood with my two younger brothers.
Now that we are men and have our own families, we understand better why we grew up being honest, hard working men, and without any vices. It is symply because of the example we received from our parents.
I, particularly, can appreciate looking back all that I learned in a subconcious manner watching my father. A man of humble beginnings, with no formal education; a silversmith by trade, job that he inherited from my grandfather. My father always talked with pride about my grandfather. When we went to church we used to stop to admire the image of The Virgin of the Poor, the patron of our city. She was wearing a beautiful crown made out of gold. My father always reminded us that my grandfather was the one who had made that crown. My father burned his eyes making all kinds of pieces of jewellery working as an employee in a workshop. He did earned litle money, but when payday arrived we knew he was going to give us some anyway. That gesture made a deep impression on me because I knew and understood I had a generous father.
I do not remember my father drinking alcohol. The only time I saw him drunk was when my grandmother died, and he cried without console on the shoulders of my mother inside the church. Only alcohol was able to bring out his tears then.
It is very common in some cultures for a man to have children out of the wedlock.
My brothers and I never knew of other siblings outside our home because my father never had other children with another woman. That is why is not surprise we do not have children outside our marriages also.
Today my father is at home with my mother, he does not work anymore, he can't, he is blind due to glaucoma, and his mind is starting to play tricks on him.
Today I look at myself and I look at my brothers and I can say with inmense joy in my heart and gratitude in my soul that we are the portrait of my father.

THE END