WHAT DID THE PACKAGE CONTAIN?

I must have been very nervous as I passed the Immigration counter and entered the Customs area at the Hobby International Airport in Houston, carrying my suitcase towards the exit door. I showed the agent at the gate the properly filed form, expecting him to let me go without inspection, at which time the Customs agent asked me where I was coming from, “The Cayman Islands”, I answered, deep inside wishing I hadn’t said it. And hopping he would let me go through. Not so easy! The customs agent told me at that moment that I should go to hand inspection point, about 40 feet away, where a six foot tall, blond and tough faced Texan man wearing sun glasses was waiting for me. I must have been sweating and my heart must have been about to have a stroke, but I got to the inspection point and the agent, pretending I was calm. The agent ordered me to open my suitcase and stay three feet away of it. He went literally through every piece of cloth I had in the case, I mean every pant, every short, every shirt, every underwear I had in it, then he asked me if the wrapped package which up until then hadn’t been touched, was mine, I said “no, it belongs to a friend who is sending Christmas presents to his family”. It was like giving him an order to tear everything up. Inside the wrapped package there were about ten smaller packages wrapped up in Christmas paper, the customs’ agent torn them all up and inspected everything every little present in the package. I was mute, I must have been yellow pale and my heart was sounding like a drum and about to blow out of my chest. Finally, after about ten minutes of inspection, the customs agent told me to shut my bag and gave me the OK to go through the exit door. I have never felt so happy to be let go, those ten minutes of inspection felt like years of imprisonment.
Once out of the Customs area, I felt so happy I have no words to describe my state of mind at that moment, the fact of the matter is I was so relieved I could only think of hurrying up to take the airport tram which would take me to my connecting flight to Salt Lake City which I made it right on time. In my way to the gate I could only think of my family, and how happy I was going to feel when I could embrace them, kiss them and tell them I loved them so much. The events of this day made me realize how fragile our lives are, how fragile and subject to change our state of mind could be. In fact, our life is like a roller coaster where emotions can go so high and then go so much down, so fast, that anything can happen in just a short period of time. A few hours later, around 5PM Salt Lake City time, I was with my family, I had never wished to be with them so much, I felt I was in heaven. A couple of days later and after going Christmas shopping with my family I was ready to celebrate Jesus’ BD!. Merry Christmas to everyone!.
The day after I arrived in SLC; I called Buzz and Barbara Murphy and told them of my anguish, my doubts and my desperation while flying, and at the Hobby Airport’s US Customs area. First, I apologized to them for my doubts and then I told them their “reconstructed” package was on its way to its final destination through the US postal service. Both Buzz and Barbara laughed their hearts out, they didn’t feel offended at all, on the contrary, they said they felt ashamed and sad for not having warned me that such kind of thorough reviews are customary they were used to tem.
That was one of my most beautiful Christmases ever, it was a real White Christmas, the great Wasatch Front Mountains, right in front of our house were as white as they can be, they had never looked more beautiful to my eyes, I was the happiest man in the whole wide world. I felt happy to have a family, I felt happy to have a home where my wife and my children were all waiting for me, I never felt so happy to be home.
Life returned to normal a few days later, I had to go to Buenos Aires (“BA”) again; I did it through the NY Kennedy airport this time. In my way to BA, which literally took over 12 hours of flying time, I had sufficient time to think about my life and where was heading and taking my family with me. I wrote down a few ideas in my notebook. I remember I did it just like I was planning my year 1984. Among the points I wrote was one that read “Try to get a new job, one which would not include so much travelling”.
Once in Buenos Aires, my routine work started: Meetings with Alberto Angeleri about the Entre Lomas oil field; visiting Maria Ortelli (the manager of Petrolera Perez Companc) accompanied by Alberto, to find out what the plans for the new year included in terms of new investments, cash to the partners (if any), responses to some production, accounting and financial issues; etc. This time my trip included a visit the oil field in the Province of Neuquén in the Argentine Patagonia with Alberto Angeleri who was always a great friend of mine; check the books’ closing for the year 1984, etc. But, on the social agenda, Alberto’s team at APCO, especially the girls in the Accounting Department had prepared a special treat for me. As a new years present, they handed me a ticket for a concerto by the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra, at the Teatro Colon in Buenos Aires. That was very nice of them, I felt very grateful for the present. I had a problem with that though, my problem was I had never, ever, been to one of this kind of performances, nor I had ever been exposed to this kind of events, and, apart from Mozart’s classical music which I had always loved, due to my humble origin, my education never included what you may call “musical education”, so, thankful as I was for such a nice present, deep inside myself, I felt that I might not be able to stand to the occasion.
I attended the Concerto; I had to dress up for the occasion with a suit and tie, of course, just like all other attendants did. I paid the most attention to the music, the stage looked magnificent, and the whole place looked like one of those Vienna theaters attended by “la crème de la crème” of the European royalty at the beginning of the 1900’s. I was sitting in the middle of the third row, at no more than 30 feet from the stage. The orchestra had world class musicians performing at their best, the violins sounded like music from heaven, however, I was just not up to the occasion, little Rafico, from Pallatanga never had a chance to learn music when he was a kid, neither he had the time to spend learning anything about it while he was a young man. The orchestra was playing just too classical a music for my ears to properly catch and my brain to process at the same time. I have always felt shy to say it, but I’m now confessing to all of you that by the middle of the show, I fell asleep... it was just too much of a sophisticated music for little me, for the young man who went to night school at the Borja Lavayen Secondary School in Guayaquil, to understand and enjoy such a jewel of world classic music. I was ashamed then, and I feel kind of shy to tell the story now, but that’s the truth, that happened, and I believe that by saying it to all of you now, I will feel better. In fact, I feel better already, because I believe most, if not all of you will understand me. Some of you might laugh at me, some of you might even think I should have never said it, but I know that most of you will agree with me that telling the truth should never be a reason to be ashamed.
In my next posting: RETURNING TO OUR HOME TOWN-GUAYAQUIL