When visiting the Island, there is always a sancocho to attend or a chivo to take part of. It is the ultimate gesture of Island hospitality. I happen to love both, not just on the Island, but also when my mom makes them back home. And as long as there is frozen sancocho, it will be eaten every single day. Chivo, on the other hand, not so much. A single serving when it is freshly cooked is just fine.
Today was Sancocho Day at one of my many tias’ house. However, it would’ve been much more enjoyable had I not seen a “jolopeo” in broad daylight on my way to her house. On George Washington Avenue, a small vehicle carrying sacks of rice, cans of oil, and many other provisiones was held up by what seemed to be a dozen motoristas. What was most shocking was not the fact that the driver had a machete to fight off the robbers, but how people watched in apathy as the driver was trying to protect his merchandise. Paralyzed by my intense shock, I completely forgot to take some shots with my camera. I asked my uncle: “Aren’t we going to help this poor guy?!!!” Y e’ facil… he said. Wow! I thought. For a country que ha cambiado muchiiiiiiiiiiisimo, never in my life have I seen such display hunger, crime and indifference combined. Thank god for sanchocho. It helped me suppress the memory of the poor guy resignado at the sight of his truck being looted.