There were numerous instances where Jesús Rocío Ramos listened to advice from doctors and psychologists recommending that retirees engage in crossword puzzles, word searches, painting or even reading and writing to stimulate their minds, leading him to implement their suggestions.
He chose the latter. Reading came easily to him, given his access to newspapers, magazines and a selection of books, but writing “was somewhat challenging” so he began to rummage through the trunk of memories situated in a room at the entrance of his home, where he preserved his experiences from childhood, adolescence and youth, which he articulated in a book at the age of 91.
As he neared completion of his initial tale, his granddaughter Angela seized the pen from him, added the necessary punctuation and perhaps some accents, then declared: “Grandpa, it’s lovely, why don’t we share it on Facebook?” He followed her suggestion “because it’s impossible to say no to a granddaughter,” he admits.
Each story she wrote was uploaded to the social platform and “it was a whirlwind,” he emphasises. Simultaneously, it spurred him to continue writing as he recalled events he wished to document.
His literary journey commenced in April 2020, amid the COVID-19 pandemic, and continued until September of the previous year, when he compiled 150 narratives, complemented by 80 photographs, primarily featuring acquaintances from La Orotava including family members, locations, customs and anecdotes that are integral to the history of La Orotava, his birthplace and current residence. He makes it clear that “the true creators of the book” are his granddaughter Ángela Pérez Rocío and the historian Javier Lima Estévez, who persuaded him to publish it. His persistence “encouraged him, as he reviewed the articles and assured him that it was feasible, that people would enjoy it, that it would sell,” states Jesús. Angela facilitated the process by digitising all the writings. “You can’t say it’s a dream because I never envisioned writing it; instead, what I dreamt was that I had fallen from a cloud,” he jokes.
“If I were to speak of gastronomy, I’d say I provided the ingredients and he, with his expertise as a master chef, crafted the dish, deserving a Michelin star,” he remarks, referring to Javier. And if he were to refer to music, he would “borrow the title” from a song by Los Panchos, Alma, corazón y vida, which is what he and his granddaughter included in the book.
Jesús clarifies that in ‘Searching in the Trunk of Memories’, these are not mere stories but his experiences, “the ones that come with 91 years” that he sought to illustrate how La Orotava has been evolving, “the most beautiful town in the Canary Islands”, for nearly a century. “I only discuss what I have lived,” he underscores.
He was born in the same house he inhabits, having lived there his entire life “and where he wishes to pass away”, located at number 45 Doctor Domingo González Street, formerly El Castaño Street, in Villa de Arriba. His experiences are also intertwined with the house, where a canal once flowed that supplied water to the mills, and which is connected to the family business he inherited from his parents, which he managed alongside his three children, Fátima, Juan Antonio and Ernesto, until a year ago. Supermercados Rocío could not endure the competition from larger stores and when expenses surpassed earnings, they decided to close. “A timely withdrawal is a victory.” But they owe neither us nor are we indebted,” he states with pride.
Jesús was educated at the mixed school of Inocencio Sosa, located on Hoya Street, (now called Hermano Apolinar), where he was involved in the only fight of his life with ‘Pedrito’, a classmate who “made him miserable” by stealing his pencils and books and threatening both him and others.
Jesús experienced “very difficult times attending school” so like many of his generation, he left school at 14 and started working at a young age, having six siblings. “Everything I know has been instilled in me by life,” he claims. However, this did not prevent him from being active in social matters.
He was a founding member of the beloved murga El Casco, acknowledged as the first in North Tenerife, and directed Peña Los Chiringuitos, which performed at the Carnivals “with tremendous success” and for many years, he also organised the Great Festival of Variety during the Corpus Christi celebrations. Furthermore, he sang for the Orotava and Copacabana orchestras when Puerto de la Cruz was thriving and they constantly performed. “Today I’m uncertain if I would have continued because the music of those times has been lost with these new rhythms,” he maintains.
Music has always been, and continues to be, a significant part of his life. When recounting his experiences, it is inescapable for him to reference a song or artist. “Music relaxes you and transports you to memories and recollecting is living again,” he shares.
Concerning the murgas, he believes they were appreciated for their cleverness and enjoyed success “because they were not crude in their discourse” and recalls some lines from songs: “What kind of man is he / the neighbours ponder / he claims that man does not have / what they feed to the hens.”
“People speculate out there / how clever his tongue is / they say he’s a joker / but stated the other way around.”
He concludes that “people enjoy the cleverness but not the vulgarity” and although modern murgas “are enhanced in attire, the songs are so lengthy they become tiresome.”
In his first book, alongside anecdotes, there are also intriguing and humorous reflections, such as the comparison between youth from the past and today.
“If you ask someone from this generation what a potty is, they would be clueless. It’s a spittoon, as previously, no one, not even the wealthiest individuals, had a lavatory, and the spittoon was kept on the bedside table or under the bed for urination,” he notes. He even sold them in his store and gave them as gifts to clients who were getting married.
When Jesús was young, he owned just two pairs of trousers. If one tore, his mother would sew it “and now they buy them already torn,” he chuckles.
There are various tales in the book “that may seem like Christmas tales but that is not the case; it’s pure reality,” he explains. He references a story titled The Boy and the Milkmaid where he narrates that one morning on Three Kings’ Day, he encountered a boy named Juan in his street with an empty milk can who had not received any gifts because Their Majesties “had not visited his home.” Observing the joy exhibited by the other children, he picked up a small truck in the bazaar near his house and told them it bore his name. The boy took it, dropped the milk can and vanished, and though he waited for him to return for it, he never reappeared.
As he recounts, he adds that Three Kings Day “bears no resemblance to what we experience now. Children no longer play in the street with toys because technology and progress have transformed everything. Nevertheless, “they will not erase my memories, especially after publishing the book,” he clarifies.
Consequently, with Searching in the Trunk of Memories, Jesús aims to impart evidence to new generations of how he experienced life throughout these years, that it was not “a bed of roses – as Mari Trini would sing – so they can juxtapose how they live today.”
Jesús possesses an exceptional memory. When asked about his secret, he confidently shares: “consuming gofio and milk, and a glass of wine.” In addition to writing, he relishes time with his friends, he continues to drive and plans to renew his licence in April, although he no longer drives at night.
He never expected that his experiences would culminate in a book. The evidence suggests otherwise, as within two weeks, all the copies released sold out. It coincided with Christmas Eve, the day he turned 91, and it was undoubtedly, “the most wonderful Christmas present I could have received,” he confesses.
