Juan Conde Pena’s Life 1

Juan Conde Pena’s Life  1

Presentado por; Iris de La Rosa Velez, 2014

 

 

 

Preface

I was born and raised in Juncos, Puerto Rico, on August 27, 1932. Puerto Rico is one of the Caribbean Islands. It is called the Island of Enchantment because of the beautiful beaches, the abundance of vegetation, the amenable temperature, and the people’s friendliness. It has hundreds of vacation resorts located short distances from the beaches. Most of the airlines go there via Muñoz Marin Airport. Thus, it is very easy for anyone living in the mainland to visit the island.

Since Puerto Rico is a commonwealth of the United States, Puerto Ricans have been citizens of the United States since 1916. In that year, the United States Congress enacted the law granting American citizenship to all Puerto Ricans. From then on, many Puerto Ricans have served in the armed services during all world wars and conflicts.  They have fought alongside other Americans from the mainland defending our democracy. Many have died, and many others have been maimed for life. During the Korean War, the 65^th Infantry, one of our regiments, was almost wiped out.

 

 

My Autobiography

 

There were eleven children in my family. Five of them were born before me; Tomasa, Lupe, Paco, Ana, and Leonides; and five more were born after me; Rose, Lolita, Nilda, Iris and Rafael. We lived on a farm, and we were very poor. The walls and floor of our home were constructed with wooden boards and the roof with zinc. It rested on nine [three rows of three] supports about two and half feet from the ground. These supports were made from massive tree trunks [the name of this tree is ausubu –a very hard wood]. Also, the house had a front and a rear door and four windows, one on each side. Inside, the house was divided into three large rooms; a bedroom, a living room and a dining room. The kitchen was constructed as a separate shed that was connected to the main house. We went in and out of it through a side door. Most of us slept in the large bedroom; and the rest of the family slept in the living room. Our parents shared the bedroom with the younger children, but they managed to have their privacy with a thick blanket that hung from the ceiling.

When I was eight years old, my parents sent me to live at my maternal grandparents’ house. Although my grandparents had passed away, two aunts and a cousin lived there. They wanted me to live with them because they had named me after my uncle, Juan, who passed away a short time before I was born. They believed that by naming me Juan, I would be like my uncle. Years later, I found out that my uncle. Was a very a brilliant man. He was a carpenter, a tailor, a musician, a barber, and more. None of those extraordinary gifts passed to me.

From the beginning, my aunts were very demanding. They forced me to get up at 5ː 00 a.m. and kept me busy all day long. First, I had to hold the goats’ legs as my cousin milked them; then, they sent me to the coffee plantation to pick  up the coffee beans from the ground was a horrible job. I had to work every morning practically on my knees. To make matters worse, the ground was very humid because the sun’s rays could not penetrate the dense vegetation. My only consolation was the hot chocolate and a piece of bread that an aunt brought me around 9ː00 a.m. Needless to say, after staying there for only a week, I returned home to the safe arms of my parents.

 

Communication kept our family together

Although our way of life seemed strange to many, it was a blessing for us we learned to communicate openly with each other. We all went to bed at the same time; and before falling asleep, we asked our parents for their blessings. It was like a ritual as we took turns saying, ‘bendicion, mama y papa’, and they would answered in unison, ‘Dios y la Virgen los acompane’. Although we used to eat our supper around five O’clock, we crowded around the dining room table to eat some of our father supper when he came home. He always shared his supper with all us because my mother made the necessary provision, filling our father’s plate.

There was always a lot of work that needed be to done on the farm. We helped by planting seeds, weeding out the plantation, and gathering the crops. In addition, we helped to harvest the tobacco leaves. We separated the leaves according to their length and wholeness; the long and whole leaves were first class, the short whole leaves were second class, and the rest of the leaves were third class. After sorting out the leaves, we took them to be sewn and hung in a large barn for the curing process to take place. When the leaves were cured, we packed and sold them to the cigar manufacturer, except a small amount that my mother kept to make chewing tobacco for her private use.

In addition to crop harvesting, there were other choresː we took care of the cattle, gathered kindling, brought water from the well, and went to the stores for errands. We tried to make every chore enjoyable. We enjoyed milking the cows because we drank their milk and enjoyed gathering kindling in the forest because there were many delicious fruits that we ate. Last, we enjoyed going on errands because it gave us an opportunity to chat with our friends and spend some time away from the boredom of farm chores.

We engaged in various games to overcome boredom

We also engaged in various games as a form of entertainmentː We played baseball with a homemade ball and bat, played cowboys and Indians, wrestled, played with marbles, etc. Sometimes, we just disappeared in the sugar cane plantation to extract the sugar cane juice from which we made a delicious drink. I remember how we used a homemade ‘trapiche’ to extract the juice from the cane. There were different kinds of sugar cane, but we knew which ones were the softest and the sweetest, many times we were nearly caught by the plantation’s guard, but we always managed to escape.

 

The hurricanes and storms that hit our island were horrifying

Not every situation was enjoyable while I was growing up. There was always the menace of hurricanes and storms. The hurricanes and storms have devastating. We have lost most of our fruit trees. They have also disrupted our gardens. Many times, they have wiped out our banana, plantains, yucca, ñame, yautia and other produce. The damages they cause to the houses are horrendous. The houses that are built with wood and zinc do not stand a chance against hurricanes. When I was a little boy, I remember one specific experience when a hurricane hit the island. At that time, the only refuge we had was a ‘barrack’. This was a conical shed built with a solid foundation deep in the ground that was large enough to protect two or three families during a storm or a hurricane.

On this occasion, our immediate family went into the barrack. There were about twelve people crowded together in a very small area. Only the children slept, while the adults told stories and battled the hurricane the rest of the night. All the stories told were related to the same theme – hurricanes and storms. Those storytellers were delighted to have a captive audience to tell their stories to. The following morning, there were many houses completely destroyed. A great number were without, and still others were miraculously saved.

After a hurricane or a storm strikes the island, a period of reconstruction begins. All the families work together during this time; they share materials, food, clothes, and time. Everywhere I went neighbors were helping each other without regard to race, religion, or political affiliations. It’s wonderful to contemplate brotherly love, and camaraderie which evolves in such short period, because of a crisis.

We have learned to build stronger houses

Nowadays, we build houses with concrete blocks, cement mixed with gravel, sand and water. We also strengthen the structures with iron bars. These are placed in the columns, the floor, and the roof. In this manner, the structures are stronger against the winds brought by hurricanes and storms. There are still some houses vulnerable to them but they are gradually disappearing.

In 1999, we faced one of the most terrible hurricanes –named ‘Georges’. Wind gust of about 60 to 75 M.P.H. began striking the island early in the day. By nightfall, they had increased to about 115 M.P.H. We kept listening to our battery-operated radio after the electrical power went off. Consequently, everything was pitch-black inside and outside. We were frightened, feeling the constant wind trying to force its way through the crevices in the house. At the same time, it was pushing the rain through the crevices, as if it had conspired to exterminate every man, woman and child.

The following morning after ‘Georges’ struck Puerto Rico; all the public services were out. When I peeked out the window, I saw that my driveway was obstructed with fallen trees, electrical and telephone lines, and zinc planks. A few hours later, I started cutting and removing the trees and other debris from my driveway. I worked feverishly for three days to open a path wide enough to drive through. Luckily, I had enough canned food, gallons of water, and a cylinder of natural gas to last me a week. My biggest problem was obtaining ice. There were long lines in front of the ice plants, that had begun to form very early in the morning. I was fortunate a church member helped me with the ice problem. He had an electrical generator that produced enough power to keep all the electrical equipment working in the house.

We are very thankful to the public servants

I have to admit that the heroes during that catastrophe were the electrical and the aqueduct workers. They labored day and night until all the services were restored. Within a month, the electricity, the telephone, and the water services were reestablished on most of the island. It took much longer, however in the remote areas. But the damage done to the trees, to the land, to the houses, to the rivers, etc., will take many years to normalize. At the present time, the islanders are better prepared against these acts of nature. Many already own electrical generators, and their houses are much stronger than years ago. But no matter how well are prepared, we still get very scared when we hear the warnings of a hurricane or a storm. Although the theme of hurricanes and storm is vast and interesting. I would like to continue with my autobiography.

Continuing with my autobiography – My primary school Years

When I was about eight years old, like any boy that age, I wanted to go school. Every day I watched with curiosity as the other children passed by my house on the way to school. One day I told my mother that I wanted to go to school too. She was surprised at first; but she dressed me in an old pair of short pants and a T-shirt, helped me put on my old shoes, gave me an old notebook and a stub of a pencil, and sent me to school. Immediately, I followed the other children, and I walked about a half-hour until I reached the school. Once there, I registered, and I sat down with the other children.

Attending school was very exciting for me because I didn’t have to work at home as much as before. None of my brothers went to school past the fourth grade. Only one of my seven sisters went to school and graduated from college. Although my father never attended school, he was a genius in many fieldsː He was a great farmer (he knew what to plant according to the moon’s phases). Also, he was a great mathematician (he could add entire columns without going through the mathematical steps). He also took care of all the animals in the farm. In a way, he was a practicing veterinarian, without the degree.

            My mother was also exceptional. She kept a medicinal plant collection; with she used adroitly whenever the need arose. Furthermore, she cooked like an experienced chef, she sewed our clothes. Washing the clothes was a formidable experience. Since we didn’t have piped water and electricity to run a washing machine, my mother had to go the nearest river to wash clothes (In those days, the water in the river was crystal clear). She used to get up very early, pack the dirty clothes in a bundle, dress the youngest kind, and get ready to take them with her. Then she would walk an hour to the river balancing the bundle of clothes on her head. After washing the clothes, my mother would dry them on the grass in the sun. While the clothes were being dried, my mother gave us a good bath in the river, fed us lunch, and spent the remaining time talking to the other ladies who had also come to wash their clothes. We enjoyed this weekly trip to the river very much. But like all good things it ended when I started attending school.

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