CHILLIN'
The Ice Cometh, Man
The Ice Cometh, Man
Raspas are cool |
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| A sultry evening breeze kicks up, rustling the palm
and banana leaves that hang low against the sky. A green parrot sitting
atop his cage on an old, leaning picnic table in front of the snack
stand chatters to himself. He calls out his own name, “R-R-R-Ricky,”
with a rolling “r.” The table sits on packed dirt, worn grassless by foot traffic. Lights around the small trailer where Eva Santana churns out her frozen delicacies—snow cones, melon waters and frozen fruit drinks—beckon occasional customers from the sidewalk as traffic whizzes by. They sit at the table, alternately crunching the contents of their plastic-foam cups with spoons and sipping them through straws. They watch Ricky as he wanders in and out of his cage, tentatively sampling the pieces of melon his owner has tied inside and always going back to his favorite toy, a tiny white plastic spoon. The customers speak mostly Spanish. The parrot does, too. This seeming slice of Cozumel, complete with colorful wooden animal and snow-cone cutouts stationed near the road and plastic flowers tied to a two-by-four supporting a small air-conditioning unit, isn’t anywhere near the Caribbean. It is in the parking lot—right under the marquee, in fact—of Exotic Electronics, 1860 Wirt Road on Houston’s near west side. |
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Left: Come evening, Mr. Raspado Refresqueria
seems like a little slice of Cozumel on a Spring Branch roadside. |
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| Rust, Carol. "Raspas are cool." Houston Chronicle. July 21, 1996. pp. 1G, 4G. Photo credits: Children, syrups, and Mr. Raspado's-Ben DeSoto photos / Chronicle Mary Boggs-Christobal Perez / Special to the Chronicle | |||||||
