Paro Nacional en Puerto Rico- UPR

So, the governor went ahead and performed the mass layoffs.

Thousands and thousands of i-am-kicking-you-outta-here letters in one day.

Then an egg flies, smashes innocently behind its target. But the attitude of the egg thrower was applauded throughout the land. It lifted our morale. Even those of us who still have a job felt righteous anger at the way all this has been done. I think we all wish the egg had hit the governor on his head, and that we were the throwers.

And then, today, the people went to the streets to stage a mass demonstration. All well and cool, I am behind them 100%.

But I am so fucking pissed with the students of the UPR( Universidad de Puerto Rico- Rio Piedras campus).

They feel the need to stage a protest or strike every goddamn semester. EVERY SEMESTER. It seems like a rite of passage; kids newly out of their parents house and supervision stretch the bound of their freedom for the first time. But they have to be so stuuupid about it I feel ashamed sometimes in their stead.

Like now. They went to the protest to add their numbers and help the laid-off.And they act so stupid and take the chance to commit many kinds of petty crimes, that they detract rather than add to the merit of the main protest. I saw some of them throwing empty beer bottles against a building facade. There was some tire burning. Many walls now sport graffitti they did not have yesterday: "Socialism or death!"

Like, seriosly? Is that a threat? Are you saying YOU chose to die over living under capitalism, or that you want ME to die for your economic preference?

Sometimes I despair over the levels of sheer stupidity and irresponsability that grace the halls and classrooms on this, the best university on the island.

Anyways, my husband is over there right now, working in the university. He slept only 2 hours last night, and has been working for more than 24 hours now. And I won't be seeing him soon, it seems, because the students went into overtime-stupid and decided that though the demonstration had ended (for the adults were tired already and had responsabilities at home) they were not tired at all and were ready for some mayhem. So they headed for the University.

To break some more bottles and spray paint slogans on all available surfaces, no doubt. I tell you, this happens all semesters. We know the drill.

The campus guard was ready, and with the police they resisted the students. There were rocks thrown. Eggs, of course. There was violence, and for a second there it looked pretty bad.

My husband called to tell me he would be staying in campus today. He remains on call.

SCARE

I got the scare of the year yesterday.

My husband usually picks me up from work, but he is also what we could call " congenitally retarded". Not as in dumb, I mean he is late for everything. Eeeeeeverything.

He goes out of work 4 hours before I do. So he goes home and falls asleep. I end up stranded. I have begged rides from almost everyone at work.

So, the other day he is not there to pick me up. He is not taking his phone. I figure, he's asleep and beg a ride.

When we are a few streets from home, I receive a call from my Father-in-Law. He and my husband work at the same place, in the same department, in different buildings but both buildings are facing each other. They cannot sneeze without the other learning all about it. " Hey, your son just sneezed. Is he ok?"
Anyways, so he calls me and asks me : " Hey Kiki, how is Carlos doing?"
"Sleeping, I think. I'm not home yet. What do you mean?"

He proceeds to tell me of how Carlos felt a sharp pain in his chest at around 10am, the paramedics were called, they took his pressure and vitals, and they rushed him to the hospital where they were checking his heart. That is the last thing he knows.

I promise to call him as soon as I get home.

My co-worker leaves me a few streets from home, and that has been the weirdest walk in my life. It was the slowest and the fastest one. It felt slow 'cause I need to get there NOW, and it is all I can do not to run like the dickens. It felt fast 'cause I saw nothing, I walked completely immersed in my head, did not experience the road.

I get home. His car is there so they let him go from the hospital and he must be allright. Right?

So why is my hand shaking?

He was sleeping.

Turns out the pain in his chest was muscular, caused by stress. They made a whole battery of tests and he was perfectly healthy. But they gave him a shot of muscle relaxant and that made him sleepy. He forgot to call me. Sorry.

But he had called his father and told him he was alright. He just omitted that part from his report. Arghhhh!

And then Carlos asks me, with a smug look on his face, enjoying this already : "Were you worried?"

"No way. I spent the walk home thinking how much money I could get by selling your stuff. I get home full of hopes and you have the bad manners to be alive! What a spoilsport!"