Autobiography - The Galindo Group

Ram Galindo THE MAKING OF AN AMERICAN Page 169
part of the “pardon” she received that allowed them to keep the property intact, my
parents had to agree to change the ownership into more names than just theirs. This
was the beginning of the end because it made it impossible to add another penny of
investment into the land.
Later in 1967, taking advantage of the short peace brought by the Barrientos
government but fearing a future return to communistic times, we all decided that it would
be safer to actually subdivide the orchard under our direction. We did so and my
parents gave five lots to each of their children, though I paid for one of mine. All five of
us built a home on them and continued, as married families, the close family bonds that
we had developed there as youngsters. Our own young children were able to savor the
same early childhood we had enjoyed. My three kids were lucky to form their first
memories in this beloved place under the umbrella of my parent’s home. We sold the
lots we didn’t build on and La Brisa de Aranjuez became the choice residential area of
Cochabamba. Even though I have lived in Texas since 1974, I kept my home there until
after my mother passed away in December 1996. Aranjuez is the place where I nursed
all the virtues that my siblings, my children and I brought to Texas when we moved
here. We all fitted at the vanguard of the American character.
My parents complemented our learning diets with as much travel as possible. Railroad
transportation did not arrive in Cochabamba until the second decade of the 20 th century.
The first paved road linking Cochabamba to another city was built by the US
Department of Defense in the mid 1950s. The Germans started an airline in 1925 flying
Junkers airplanes until they were expelled in World War II, and the company became
Bolivian. With the advent of the socialist revolution of 1952, the airline went into total
decline and accumulated the worst safety record of airlines on the continent. Air
transport was avoided like the plague. This happened contemporaneously to my
nascent interest in flying. My mother put a quick and final stop to any desires of mine to
become an aeronautical engineer, my career choice at the time. So, while in my senior
year of high school, I decided to follow my father’s footsteps and become a civil
engineer.
As a result of these limitations leaving or arriving at Cochabamba was not an easy
affair. The massive mountains surrounding the valley kept us well confined and isolated
in an idyllic setting, devoid of any large bodies of water. Nevertheless, my parents
managed to show us the ocean at the Pacific port of Antofagasta, Chile when I was
about six years old. My father rented an entire sleeper railroad car and took not only his
immediate family but also his mother, sisters and brothers with their families as well. It
was a vacation to remember! It was my first train trip; I still remember running around in
the train’s passageways with my cousins, probably making a nuisance of ourselves.
When we overnighted in La Paz, it was the first time in my life I saw a larger city and
stayed in a hotel.
Autobiography.doc 169 of 239