Remembering Roberto ? Firefly Creative Writing
It was just like the song says,
?Some enchanted evening,
you will see a stranger,
you will? see a stranger,
across a crowded room ??
?
And that?s exactly how I met him.? My sister had just come back from Argentina where she had lived for 6 years.? She was now enamoured with everything Latin American, spoke Spanish fluently and was working as an interpreter at Ontario Welcome House.? A new caf? had just opened up on College Street which catered to the Latin American, and especially Chilean, community. Latin American folk music groups were featured there on Fridays and one hot summer evening she asked me to go with her to one of these song fests (or ?Pe?a? as they are called in Chile).
The place was jam packed when we got there, but Emily (my sister) saw a friend of hers sitting by himself a one of the tables.? He motioned for us to come and join him.? Once we had settled into our seats and were waiting for the music to begin, I looked around the room to see who frequented the place.? There were people of all ages, sitting together in groups, speaking Spanish.? Emily?s friend was a refugee from El Salvador and they soon fell deep into conversation ? in Spanish ? so I was totally lost.? Then I saw him.? He was sitting at a table with a group of about ten people who were all talking and arguing, animatedly.? He was slim, with white, thinning hair and a white beard.? He had olive skin and his face had a slightly Middle Eastern look.?? He was wearing a Cuban style shirt and I guessed him to be in his early 50s.? I was fascinated, hooked! I couldn?t take my eyes off him.? Fernando, Emily?s friend, interrupted my staring by saying, ?Oh, there?s Roberto? and he called across the room to him, ?Hola, Roberto?.? Roberto raised his hand to indicate he would be with us shortly and after a few minutes, he came to join us.
Roberto was a refugee from Chile and had been in Canada for seven years.? He spoke broken English but could make himself understood even though his vocabulary was limited.? And his Spanish accent added to his charm! He told me he had come to Canada when the government opened its doors to Chilean victims of the repression that had been going on since the September 11, 1973 coup d??tat.? He was a journalist by profession but because his English was limited he could only find work as a chef?s assistant.? With what he earned, he had managed to pay off his debts in Chile, send money to his family and was now planning to go back. He was an active member of the Communist Party of Chile and they needed people to return home to carry on the struggle there.
It was almost midnight when we left the place, and it was obvious that he was as attracted to me as I was to him.? We decided to meet for coffee later on in the week.? And so we did.? We met many times from then on.? About three months later, Roberto moved into my house.? His plans to return to Chile were put off for a while, but we decided to travel there in the Fall of 1985, so I could meet his family.? He was divorced and had 5 grown children: three of them lived in Chile, one in Argentina and his youngest daughter lived in Stockholm, Sweden.
We arrived in Chile in September 1985 and the entire family was there to meet us at the airport:? sister, mother, sons, friends ? to welcome back the son, father, friend who had been gone for so long.? The first day was spent eating the wonderful Chilean food: empanadas, corn pie, tomato salad, and the ubiquitous barbecue with red wine.? The family was warm and welcoming and, in spite of the fact that I spoke about three words of Spanish, they made me feel like I was part of the family.? We travelled throughout Chile for the next month: to the south, right down to the Strait of Magellan, to the north near the Atacama Desert and the main cities of Santiago, Valparaiso, Vi?a del Mar.? Roberto spent many hours talking to friends and family and there were moments when I felt alone and isolated because of my lack of Spanish.? I now understood what it would be like to come to a new country with no knowledge of the culture or language. This was the first of many trips to Chile and by the time we made our last trip there in 2009, I was fluent in Spanish.? Chile has become my second home.
For more than 25 years Roberto and I shared our life together.? He is no longer with me.? He died last year at the age of 81years.? Looking back over those years, I realize how much I have changed.? His influence over me has been tremendous and I still feel the emptiness without him.? We came from opposite poles geographically, but we were soul mates.? From him, I learned to speak Spanish, I learned about the history of Chile and of Latin America, its culture, food, social conventions and all the things that make up daily living.? I discovered that in spite of cultural and language differences, people are people everywhere and more things bring us together than divide us. Things I learned from Roberto still remain with me, things like the Latin American attitude to money and possessions.? No matter how little they have, they always have enough to share.? Six or seven people may show up unexpectedly for dinner (and it has happened!) and somehow they find enough for everyone.? I used to complain about how broke I was and Roberto would just laugh.? Then I found out that he had survived many times without money ? literally: no money for the rent, for food or to pay the bills.? Somehow he got by, as so many people do in Latin America.? And they often do it by sharing.? This doesn?t mean there is no hardship, or stress.? In fact, it often causes tremendous tension and despair, but they have the ability to momentarily forget their troubles and enjoy a laugh with a friend, or lend a helping hand where needed.? He taught me some of the most important things in life:? getting together with friends and family,? the pleasure of long after dinner conversations, how to open your heart and mind, to value what is really important, and most of all to understand that we all depend on and need each other.
Sometimes his absence is unbearable but I know now that,
?so many things
are on this earth
for me to touch,
to hear, to see
I?ve learned to wrap myself
in a familiar coat
of all that really matters.?
guggenheim colonoscopy colonoscopy wfc the incredibles expedia invictus