September 7, 2005

Almost a year ago to this date I listened in awe as a new aquintance shared her story of traveling to her family’s place of origin to explore her culture (Greek). Now here I lay in bed just west of San Juan in a town called Toa Baja, Puerto Rico….

About The Book

A story of self-reflection and choices, Yo Soy Boricua follows the journey of a 2nd generation American Puerto Rican seeking solace in his family’s homeland. Joy, fear and loneliness are just some of the emotions detailed in this memoir. Overcoming culture shock and learning how to adapt in a strange, yet some how very familiar land highlights the growth of this “gringo”.

Passage:

Although I did see the Nutcracker when I was a young boy, I barely remember the performance. But now as the shrill of what would be the snare drums in a live rendition is now just an analog sound bite blasting through my LG model cell phone at 5:30am. Most days I ponder the tireless question, ‘which came first, the cell phone or the rooster’? The considerate bugle boy of our neighborhood troop sounds off as if he had been waiting up all night for this opportunity. Time seems to be of no consequence most mornings as it is the pattern that I must be faithful to mostly. It starts the previous night when I fall asleep having just tried to put a major dent in an Esmeralda Santiago book or self-administering a shot of functional Spanish lessons in my tiny room. Typically I’m comforted by the smell of burning incense, the occasional late night heat storm or that tropical rain that tends to beat on the aluminum roof like a fraternity of skeletons trying to re-live their glory days…