Don Enrique
03.25.2003Today, Enrique Centellas turns 83 years old in Bolivia. My abuelito (grandpa) is one of my favorite people of all time. He's sprite and full of life, a wise child. Each morning, he wakes up, drinks his strong coffee while chatting w/ abuelita, then heads out the door (all dressed up) to do "business" w/ a small leather attaché case.
He heads each morning to his favorite newspaper stand, where he's greeted by the other regulars. "Don Enrique, how are you this morning?" They talk politics and soccer news and catch up on the latest social gossip.
Then he goes on little family errands. He stands in line to pay the tuition bill for one of his grandchildren. Then he fights city bureaucrats meeting on behalf of a daughter-in-law. Stops for ice cream or some other sweet. Then back in line to pay the cable bill. All this before lunch, when he goes home to abuelita, who scolds him for being late. He scolds her for not having lunch ready, and retires to his study to do the crossword puzzle.
He has an uncanny ability to get information. Once, we were talking about the Chaco War. "There was a good newspaper special section on that about a month ago," he told me. Like all the requests for information or bill-paying, it got instantly jotted down in the little notebook he always carries in his shirt pocket. The next day, he came back from lunch w/ the newspaper's back issue. "I have my sources," he grinned.
When he was a young boy, abuelito followed his favorite soccer team, the San José Saints across the country. He joined the hinchas (loyal fans) traveling on train car rooftops. To this day, he heads out every Sunday to the stadium. He carries a small transistor radio w/ him. To catch the news from some other game on the other side of the country. Once, at an Oriente Petrolero game in Santa Cruz, he suddenly leapt up next to me, fist pumping in the air. His beloved Saints had scored in Cochabamba.
Each World Cup is an obsession. The refrigerator carries a game table. Minutes after each match is over, abuelito races to the kitchen to pencil in the scores.
He also collects the little sticker books put out by Coca-Cola. Each page is meticulously filled w/ the sticker for each individual player. His evenings are spent at downtown street corners, haggling w/ little children. "I'll trade you a Bebeto for a Batistuta." Each book is archived and preserved in the collection. And he usually fills four of five of them, gifts for special grandchildren.
Posted by Miguel at 09:18 PM
Comments
Sounds like your grandpa and mine would get along just terrific ...despite the fact, they may not understand eachother. My one grandpa is 81 now and follows his routine every day. It makes them "weird", but also special.
Posted by: Melli at March 26, 2003 12:27 AM
yeah I am sending a card down there today. i forgot to send one sooner, school has been so busy. i miss seeing them, i wish i was able to go more often. this xmas for sure i want to be down there and take little novali to meet everyone!
Posted by: sam at March 26, 2003 08:52 AM
what a wonderful characterization of your grandfather! i can tell he is related to sam. I can't help but picture sam at 83 with his palm pilot in his shirt pocket and black apple saddle bag over his shoulder armed to spend his morning problem solving the dramas of greek affairs at some univieristy he is suppose to be retired from.
Posted by: becky at March 26, 2003 11:17 PM
.... I swear I felt like I was back in Bolivia. Grandpa passed a little notebook on to me, I used it all the time. You need to keep your sources. I miss them. I'm sure you'll send our best when you go back in Sept.
Posted by: Andres at April 1, 2003 03:59 PM