December 31st 1981, Carolina Puerto Rico.The family sat outside the veranda of the beautiful urban four room beach house that la abuela/my grandmother Teresa Cardaso owned.Every December religiously me, my sister Andrea and our parents Marco and Linda Cardaso visited my father's mom, our beloved nana to spend both Christmas and new years eve, our parents would make the drive from our luxury home in San Juan city to our nana's modest home at Carolina near the public beach.Our granpa had died four years ago from cancer so we made sure to visit granma sometimes even during the school holidays so she wouldn't be lonely, though we enjoyed to visit her more out of love than obligation, we loved especially to swim in the beautiful beach, our nana would make us sandwiches and drinks and we would frolick in the waters until it was late in the evening.This particular holiday was special because it was around Christmas and New Years, my two most favorite holidays because we would get new clot

I didn't know who my grandmother was calling a "poor soul", I was distracted by the neighborhood erupting in a countdown" TEN, NINE, EIGHT..." I rushed to the room I shared with Andrea, drew the curtains apart and came in time to hear"THREE, TWO, ONE....HAPPY NEW YEAR"Hundreds of different colorful fireworks shot up to the sky, I saw dragons spitting fire, i saw milkyway like fireworks, i heard fireworks that exploded like lightning or bombs.I heard dogs bark in terror in the far off distance seeking shelter from the noise, I heard cheers and screams of jublication and people walked around shouting thanks and rebuking the sins of the previous year.I heard them sing merrily and with glee in their voices, yet in my heart I felt none, I didn't feel what I felt when I was a little boy napping in my grandmother's lap and waking to the beautiful view of fireworks.I remembered to wake up my sister Andrea and telling her the fireworks had started albeit I woke her up minutes later, she

The following morning I decided to riot.I was incensed how could I be punished for stopping a crime? whilst the actual criminal was rewarded and hadn't my abuela claimed the arepas were free?Why was she selling food now as if we were poor?!. My parents were rich, my dad was a businessman and in San Juan we owned a beautiful large townhouse, In San Juan i went to a private school.I didn't want to stay in Carolina anymore if my abuela was a food staller, the other kids would make fun of me and think we were also poor like other street sellers, i had a feeling i knew our lives were quite different here but not in such an extreme case.We lived in a modest but beautiful house here in Carolina, our house in San Juan was very huge, I had my own room there I didn't have to sleep in the same bed with Andrea who snored and farted in her sleep, in San Juan the school i went to was more nicer and bigger than the one in Carolina and our parents always gave us pocket money for schoolOur abuela

Carolina beach, Carolina city July 1982 me, my abuela and Andrea were on an outing, it was exactly two weeks before my ninth birthday and my abuela thought it was a good idea to take Andrea and I to the beach.She had brought a full two litre bucket of arepas to sell, as well a picnic box for Andrea and I full of ham sandwiches and Coca-Cola drinks enough for a whole afternoon.Whilst we frolicked in the shallow waters, she watched us attentively from the rocks, her large pale brown hat shielding her from the searing sun, from time to time a different stranger would approach her and buy an arepa, each time she served her customers she never lost sight of us. It seemed like an ordinary day at the beach with no incident even I had let go of some of my prejudice about my abuela selling arepas, I half thought if it helped make some money why was I bothered?, I continued to enjoy my swim.Andrea was the first to leave the water, she said she needed to grab something to eat, I ignored her