MY GRANDPARENT'S HOUSE

 

I was born in Guayaquil in 1969, October in the last days of this month, 29, I grew up in my grandparents' house. In a big, big house, maybe it is about 20X20 meters, two floors or floors. From the bottom up it is connected by an internal staircase that crossed several rooms.

I remember that from the attic you could see the city, I never thought about it, but it was so close, it was spacious, if it was, it had the warmth of home, which, if it had had a fireplace, would flood that neighborhood with smoke, for a sincere love that was breathed there.

I was a mountaineer, climbing all the secret passages of that house, having a small cave, where I could recreate my fantasies and be able to see the history of my family. As a child I played, cried, laughed in every room, living room, bathroom, loft, mezzanine, all that sum brought joy and happiness. That house apart from everything taught me to be able to SHARE ALONE and that loneliness helped me develop creativity, stories to tell, to dream of BUILDING A HOUSE, to draw. I always say, as a child I was an annoying one, close to my grandfather ELEODORO CLARK QUISPHE, following him when he got home, in my retina, I always see him, generous, tall, well dressed, his voice, his sonorous voice was lost in time. I keep many things from Grandpa Clark, because my grandmother ANGELA DE CLARK, made sure that I remember her from him not dying over time. If people are happy, having money; Well, it is not always a general rule, because it is totally false. Goods and wealth do not make you happy. I took my first steps enjoying and creating stories at the Clark's house, what an adventure. Seeing how the rain rained down in my neighborhood from my grandparents' house was the most colossal spectacle you have ever seen, seeing how the children slipped to look for the big house where there were jets of water falling towards the portals, the flooded streets looked like swimming pools Where the children had fun, it was the Guayaquil of yesteryear, in an uncomplicated way, there was no FREE FIRE, nor the bad internet games that now abound in the environment, addicting children, youth and adults. At the Clark house, there was time to kick up and rest. I read a book, I watched television, I went out to explore the large patio that this huge house had, which were almost the same meters that it had in construction. I got on the old cars that my uncle Cirilo Clark had in the yard, to the left of it the two Chevrolet or GMC brands, one with a wooden box and the other a car, nice memories. When it rained, how nice to go around that painting jumping puddles, when we did not fix the patera that is on one side of the patio and there, we cleaned it and it was our pool, we bathed in it, my cousins, my cousins, my brothers and I . What a feeling of relaxation, times that will never return. My grandmother, she used to have ducks, geese, dogs, roosters, chickens, she liked parrots, Etc. A whole zoo in that place, what beautiful memories. When we were in the garage section during the week we began to imitate the Sunday School teachers, as already at that time I had accepted JESUS ​​as my Savior, I tried to imitate the preacher who helped me make the decision for CHRIST, the DR. LUIS PALAU, Argentine, who arrived at the CLOSED COLISEUM on August 7, 1981, accepted JESUS ​​on a night in my dear Guayaquil. When they were going to hit me for some misunderstanding reason, I always went to the attic, to the stairs, sometimes I had been seeing Guayaquil for hours, which looked so close, or I also liked to see it rain in my neighborhood. The Clark House was not only a refuge for us who grew up there, under the always of my grandparents, preachers, pastors, evangelical brothers arrived there. In that same house we met all the cousins, we did not know the length of the word, in the end, but we knew that we were related, that they were the children of my uncles. The uncles always turned to their mother, my grandmother Angela de Clark, they were: My uncle Cirilo Clark, Julio Clark, who lived there, my uncle Felipe Clark, lived some years in Venezuela, my aunt Dora Clark appeared there, My aunt Esperanza Clark and my uncle Eleodoro Clark, seemed like a whole battalion, but evidently the Clarks did not multiply excessively, but the Clark House seemed very small when in December or January the Clarks arrived from their homes. Grandfather ELEODORO CLARK Q, with his hands full, where 4 little black men waited for him like the hero he was, every time he arrived, he left us very early, aged 62, the same years as his father PHILIP CLARK, when this one died. In the grandmother's room there was a drawer full of books, which I thank her for inheriting me in due time, there were her big pants, her hat, her white suit and a kind of tailcoat, which we used to get dressed and look at ourselves in front of the mirror. Christmas, stuffing, turkey in of the reprise in January, are things that are not going to go so easily out of the head. It is said that that recipe he had, salt and sweet cookies from La Universal Factory, raisins, olives, walnuts, the truth is that the Cubans gave that to my grandmother ANGELA CLARK, who in her hands was a gourmet meal . Of the toys I received at the end of the year, one for the church, one for my uncle Felipe, one for my uncle Julio Clark, I was blessed, it was a very beautiful time and years. From TV nights. With Uncle JULIO CLARK, the wonder of the color programs, on Saturdays and Sundays to see them, they only remained in the memory. In it we learned to love GOD, to listen to the word of God, to listen to good Christian music, because not also secular, we liked soccer, we became fans of the best team in ECUADOR, Barcelona. We left it, never with the ambition to stay in it, today we do not see it as the old house that belonged to Clark's grandparents, but as the one that sheltered us, that gave us their rooms, that lent us its walls to show how much We had grown up, that he let us paint legends… We lost part of our history there, but we will never forget what we experienced.

LAWYER ELEODORO PORTOCARRERO CLARK