Permitimos a padres estar con sus hijos en la sala de tratamiento. A woman falls for an artist aboard the ill-fated ship.
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I say we have to get over being ashamed of who we are. My mountain people ask three questions of strangers: Where were you born? What is your name? Who are your parents?
A name represents much more than the individual. It informs whether one is trustworthy. This practice can be harsh but my family lineage retains a fine reputation.
I try to behave myself. My indigenous ancestors taught my Spanish family how to interact with the land, how to respect and love it. Land, especially mountain land, is life itself. It is sad when mountain spirits are wounded by humans who build condominiums, operate ski slope and, drive overland vehicles. My family used the earth much more carefully, taking up as little space as necessary, asking permission to consume only what we needed, thanking it for what it gave us.
In , Taos and other Pueblos , chased the Spanish out of the region, but the Spanish returned in and, learned sometimes begrudgingly, to live with Indians. Some of this part of our family memory is lost.
The loss of historical memory, prejudice and discrimination forced us to disguise our native roots in order to survive. Thus, and I grew up mostly Spanish cultured, Genizaro , with some native tendencies. When I was born, women still rendered fat and made lye soap outdoors in large black kettles.
They drew water from a clear stream, and everyone prayed throughout the day. My extended family numbered about twenty-four people sustained mostly on venison and Rocky Mountain Rainbow trout. We got milk from a few cows, ate wild turkey, and berries that grew on the ground or on bushes. Grandpa made Choke Cherry wine. Our planting season was short and the women dried or canned fruits and vegetables in mason jars.
I love spring. In spring the women birthed children. Some babies like the sister who followed me, Juanita, died within a few hours.
My papa said my grandmother prayed over the new born because Mama was too distraught to think of anything other than her loss. It was difficult to accept. Juanita was born blue. My sister and I have a congenital heart murmurs, and I suspect Juanita had a heart abnormality.
I shall see her in the spirit world, where she will tell me what caused her death. Your birth was the happiest moment of my life. The room in which I was conceived and born was cold. Granma took me from my mother, wrapped me up quickly, and placed me in a box on the oven door of the stove to cleanse me, helped me breathe the earth's pure air by lifting me upside down, clearing my mouth, and washing my eyes with a mild tea made of a sacred herb.
She was the first human to witness me. She heard the wolf howl. He heard the wolf howl. I love to write about my life.
This is not an ego trip. It is my truth. I was fortunate enough to have wonderful people waiting for me to be born, family that smiled when I received the medicine of the Mexican Gray wolf. Mama birthed seven children after me. I love them equally. Over the years, Mama has repeated how she changed my diapers in the frigidity of our mountain den. She did it lit by the flame of a kerosene lamp while she was still in bed.
I never heard them. Irene I. Blea is an author, a conference keynote address speaker, and a New Mexico Humanities Council Scholar, ireneblea q. Out of fear, and a greedy need for trophies and profit, hunters shot, trapped, and poisoned the wolf. Hunters skinned the brown, black, and silver creatures then marketed its hide. Huntsman justified their actions by telling ugly stories about the ruthlessness of the wolf as mean and dangerous.
It was no threat to us. Other than horses and a few sheep we possessed little livestock and the wolves did not bother it. There have been occasions when I felt hunted or trapped but, the spirit of the wolf kept me alive, even when it seemed necessary to gnaw off my own limb, crawl, or hobble to get away, but I love that I have been able to share knowledge.
I strive for wisdom. When I die, I want be wise, to be buried where I was born. I and the wolf will howl at the moon because both of us will know that I have learned why I came to walk this earth: to learn love, to be loved, to give love.
It is the secret of the Great Mystery. A baby wolf learns to howl. At the public school, it was a custom to give valentines to everyone in class, boys and girls.
The classroom at Sacred Heart School, had four grades: 5th, 6th, 7th, and 8th. So, again, my sister and I got the packages of valentines and proceeded to place one valentine on top of the desk of each student. Everything was going just fine, until I got to the desk of Andres Rosas, the big man of the 8th grade. The top guy in the 8th grade was considered real macho, who fought against other guys from other schools with belts, fists and knives.
Be my Valentine. Take it! I kept trying to give the valentine, then I would pull it back and repeat, give it and then take it back. Andres was so red in the face from embarrassment, and Sister was so red in the face from laughing, that I think she took the Valentine from me.
That was the last year I gave Valentines to anybody in school. Sinceramente, Refugio and Sally Fernandez. In some ways, however, they were all the same, each was beautiful and each had a joy of life, an enthusiasm and playfulness that all us primos, I think inherited. Each one of my tias influenced me in a different way. I learned from them, sometimes directly, sometimes by observing, and sometimes by imitating. They all immigrated to San Antonio, within a year of each other, between Grandfather Alberto Chapa brought the family to San Antonio in three different trips.
Grandpa opened a small grocery store in a barrio section of San Antonio, then Grandpa returned to Mexico two more times to bring the rest of the family.
He left the older daughters , my Tias with the responsibility to run and maintain the grocery store. Behind the store were the living rooms, bedrooms and kitchen. My mother, Aurora, was with the second group.
She said the family lived close to a railroad track where cattle were unloaded, and close to a slaughterhouse and canning facility owned by Gebhardt. Two cuentos that Mom shared had to do with those two facilities. When Grandpa brought the third group of family members, the youngest Albert, Jr. Grandpa took the responsibility for the grocery store and the three older sisters got a job with Gephardt.
It was quite a change for the family. In addition he had served as mayor. He owned a store in Sabinas Hidalgo, and they had household help. They were comfortable. The Mexican revolution changed all that. For nearly a century, the company produced chili powder, canned chili, canned tamales, and many other Tex-Mex food products in San Antonio — first as an independent company, and then as a subsidiary of the Beatrice Food Company.
When Gebhardt first started selling chili powder, his market was limited by the fact that Americans outside Texas did not know how to cook with it. In , the company published Mexican Cooking, one of the first Tex-Mex cookbooks. All livestock operations will cease April 20, Established in by a group of ranchers, San Antonio Stock Yards Company was formed at a major railroad intersection located near South San Marcos Street, where we are located today.
Pens and ramps were installed to enable livestock to be loaded onto rail cars. With these improvement and others ranchers, buyers and sellers could ship their livestock to markets north of San Antonio. In , Dr. Amos Graves, Sr. Graves was a doctor at Santa Rosa Hospital and chief surgeon for the railroad. He changed the name to Union Stock Yards San Antonio, bought more land and built more pens to accommodate the increase in the number of cattle brought by rail to San Antonio.
As the population grew, San Antonio became an important marketplace; this was the first market for cattle shipped in from the range along extended rail lines. Shipping cattle by train in the early years shifted to truck transport by In , over a million head of livestock a year moved through the gates of Union Stock Yards making it the largest cattle market in South Texas.
While our business has changed from being a livestock market to a commercial warehouse hub, our goals and ideals remain the same. Those are to be good stewards to the land and a commitment to provide the best service to our clients as possible. Some were doing time for selling drugs, others for robberies, murder, you name it. Tappan looked like a white shoe type three story building, and housing over inmates.
Officers working at Tappan were responsible for supervising 40 inmates in one living quarter dormitory. Up the hill is the Maximum-security with over 2, inmates. I was assigned to work Tappan during an 8 to 4 tour. During the count of inmates and just before lunch time, another officer walked into the dormitory I was working at and approached my desk.
He told me I was wanted down at the main office of Tappan and that he was there to relief me. That I had been the cop who had arrested him and that when I arrested him I slapped him in the face. As I continued to walk down the stairs and proceeded to the office, I knew I would have to find out who this inmate was as soon as I got back to the dormitory.
Before the officer who had relieved left, I asked him to tell me who the inmates was who was making all the commotion. He pointed to the inmate's cube. I called the inmate to approach my desk, while the other inmates were now looking at both me and the one inmate who was talking trash about me.
It was show time. How was former NYPD police officer going to handle this incident without making a fool out of himself. The inmates knew I knew how to write a ticket when it came to writing up an inmate who got out of hand be it with another inmate or a corrections officer. The pen is mightier than trying to get into an argument with an inmate.
After sizing up the inmates, I recognized him from the night Herman and I arrested him. I asked the other inmates if they wanted to hear the whole story. They all shouted, "Yeah! I told him that I did remember him. That I was working a midnight tour with my partner Herman Velez and assigned to Sector Adam which was at the lower part of the precinct, when around a.
I immediately brought it to Herman's attention and told him that those were the tree Hispanic men I was tipped off, who were the bad guys who would follow other Hispanic men coming out of bars a bit drunk, and while on their way home would rob and beat them to the point where the victims would require medical treatment. As the three bandidos got into the Gypsy cab and headed north on Broadway, Herman and I continued south on patrol. Three hours later, Herman and I decided to head up north on Broadway for some good coffee and donuts.
Herman notified Central and told the dispatcher that we would investigate. As we cruised slowly and turned east on th Street toward Broadway, we noticed a male Hispanic by a tenement building waving at us. We cautiously approached him, guns ready, when he told us he was the super of the building and that there were some men hiding down in the basement. Herman notified Central that we had a pick-up and that we were doing a investigate.
We took the elevator down to the basement. With our guns ready, we heard a noise coming from a storage room. We pointed our guns toward the storage room and in a polite way told who ever was hiding there to come out with their hands up in the air. I'm lying. What we said was, " You guys better come out with your hands up in the air, or were are going to blow your asses up! You got it. The tree bandidos we saw flagging down the Gypsy cab. As I'm telling my story, I can see the inmate sweating bullets, and the other inmates chuckling.
Herman and I made it our business to carry two pairs of handcuffs. I covered Herman as he cuffed the three men and searched them for weapons. Non found. Herman then notified Central telling the dispatcher what we had. He then asked if we had missed a job where a robbery had been committed. Central said that Sector Eddie was at Presbyterian Hospital writing up a 61 complaint of a Hispanic man who was robbed and beaten. Officer Charlie Wigfall told us via his portable radio that he and his partner were responding to our location.
When Charlie arrived he told us that the victim who was robbed and beaten after coming out of a bar where he had been drinking, was followed by three Hispanic men, who caught him as he entered his apartment building. I asked Charlie what they had stolen from him. He told me they stole his money and his wrist watch. Just then I heard something drop behind one of the bandidos. It was my inmate friend, who was now sweating more bullets, as the other inmates began to laugh.
I said. Well, here we are now at Sing Sing years later, and he was complaining that I was a corrupt cop, and for no reason slapped him when Herman and I arrested him and his two amigos for numerous robberies and beating up their victims. If anyone wants to believe that I gave him a well deserved slap for being a wise guy and seeing how it felt to be treated the way he treated innocent people he robbed and beat, be my guess.
Now we have this situation I told the inmate. He is in the same prison I am working at, plus making accusations that when I arrested him I treated him badly. I told him that he was a threat to me. We could not be in the same prison. Someone had to be transferred out, and it was not going to be me. His family could come and visit him every day if they wanted since Washington Heights where they lived was less than an hour drive. Let's see how many times his family and friends would go up to see him.
Besides my wife would have to sue if I were ever hurt by him or anyone he gave the job to. I told him to get back to his cube. I then began to write the report, when I heard the inmate ask me if he could approach. The dorm was so quiet, you could actually hear one or two cockroaches crawling about. The inmates approached me and said, " Officer Sanchez, please do not have be transferred. I promise you I will never disrespect you again, nor talk behind your back. Please, do nor have me transferred.
I looked at the other 39 inmates and asked them if I should give him a break. I gave him a break. And every time this inmates saw me as he passed by, he would say hello and smile. But let me tell you I'm not a big, strong man, who can kick ass, especially when it came to inmates who were big, strong, and lifted weights every day, and if they wanted could have hurt me or killed me. These are my stories from the mean streets and while working in the Belly of the Beast at Sing Sing and Coxsackie State Prison after being unjustly fired from the NYPD for locking up some lying, treacherous drug dealers.
Wishing you all the very best in this new year God bless, -Joe Sanchez www. But the premise of our joke—that the notion of a Chinese Jew is oxymoronic — is not technically true. Lately, Chinese Jews have been coming out of the woodwork, and, because of the obvious novelty factor, are getting a decent amount of media attention.
Haaretz has been following the conversion of several Chinese Jews in Israel, including Yaakov Wong, who is studying to become the first Chinese Rabbi in over years. And Israeli friends like to remind me that Eli Marom , who is a quarter Chinese, was the first Chinese Jew to hold a top military post in Israel, as the head of the Israeli Navy from to As it turns out, scholars estimate that there are nearly 1, Chinese people of Jewish descent alive today—most of whom originate from Kaifeng, an area of the Henan Province in Eastern Central China.
According to Irene Eber, a Professor of Asian Studies at The Hebrew University who has written extensively on the topic, the first Jews arrived in China along the Silk Road in the early 12 th century and built their first synagogue around , with the help of Han labor.
They prayed, had dietary restrictions and religious writings that only they read. This Jewish identity is again being affirmed today with the help of Jews that travel to China and guide them into a Jewish direction. But whether or not the descendants of this ancient Jewish community—which is referred to as qi xing ba jia in Mandarin and consists of eight lineages and seven Chinese surnames, adapted from original biblical names like Levy now Li and Adam now Ai —are actually Jewish, is cause for controversy.
There is not. A recent Chinese documentary on the ancient Jewish community in China interviewed families in Kaifeng with Jewish ties and concluded that Chinese Jews simply no longer exist.
Even Yecholiya Jin, the Kaifeng Jew profiled by Tablet , concedes that Kaifeng Jews did not abide by religious laws throughout much of their history. Though Kaifeng citizens of Jewish descent are not recognized as Jewish by the Chinese government, Jin says that on a local level, members of her family and other members of the communities are able to pray together and meet regularly for Shabbat and holiday meals in Kaifeng.
Her father even wears a tzitzit. Regardless of their hazy history, once converted, Chinese Jews are considered Jewish by the Israeli Rabbinate, and several have been granted Israeli citizenship. Sent by John Inclan fromgalveston yahoo. He is one of just over a dozen Kaifeng Jews to convert in Israel after several years of studying.
He became an Israeli citizen earlier this year. It is the place I should live because it is a Jewish country and I am above all Jewish. Perhaps Shi and others like him have a reason to feel special. Being from Kaifeng and of ancient Jewish descent—whether or not Beijing or Israel recognize him—still makes him, at least statistically, one in a million. The ceremonial center could become a destination for the 6 million pilgrims who visit the Cathedral of the Virgin of San Juan de los Lagos, located 18 kilometers The Teocaltitan archaeological zone covers 20 hectares 49 acres and has at least 23 structures built between and , the INAH said in a statement.
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