Recuerdos del principio| 5 minute FreeWrite
Pixabay and edited by my son
SPANISH VERSION
De niña viví un tiempo en el campo, mi padre tenía lo que llamamos por acá “conuco”, sembraba frijoles, maíz, yuca y ocumo. Criaba cochinos y tenía un burro para cargar agua del rio. Cuando era la época de las cachapas, era para nosotros como época de comida de rey. Cochino frito, cachapa, mantequilla de leche, agua de panela. Momentos de abundancia, y comida sana dentro de lo posible, del cultivo a la mesa.
Cada viaje al rio era una aventura para nosotros como niños. Bañarnos, hacer cacimbas (abrir huecos cerca rio que se llenaban de agua que quedaba cristalina), correr, reír, lanzarnos arena de rio uno con otros, era lo máximo. El tiempo de la cosecha estaba lleno de expectativas, porque mi papá hacia proyectos sobre que compraría para la casa con la venta de la cosecha, que dependía de todos los cambios climáticos que pudieran manifestarse y que de alguna manera pudieran perjudicar la calidad de la cosecha.
Como hombre ya experimentado en el campo la cosecha se recogía con éxito, se contrataban un grupo de jóvenes, y parecía fiesta en el campo, los muchachos cantaban, reían mientras recogían la cosecha, la paga era también parte de esa cosecha. Mi papá iba al pueblo las vendía, y regresaba al siguiente día, cargado con ropa, talco para mi mama y para mí, una aceite para el cabello con aroma a algo dulce y de color rojo o verde, particularmente me gustaba el de color rojo, que nunca supe que aceite era, pero dejaba el pelo brilloso, intensificaba el color del cabello y lo mantenía bien hidratado sin quemarlo.
Fueron varios años, recuerdo con nostalgia aquel tiempo , porque fueron los mejores y más felices de mi niñez, todo era sano, inocente, libre de angustias, sin escases, teníamos solo lo necesario y fuimos muy felices de niños, recuerdo que fui de adulta 28 años después, a aquel lugar que llamaban las lomas, era un cerro y un tío vivía allá todavía, nos mostró lo que fue una vez nuestra casa, y en las noches parecía que podías tocar la luna con las manos, era una sensación sobrenatural.
Volver a aquel lugar era como sacar memorias de la casa, eran como una película todos aquellos hermosos recuerdos, que me han servido de alimento espiritual, porque aprendí de aquel tiempo mirar con asombro cada día, que la naturaleza es noble y maravillosamente generosa.
En el lugar donde estoy ahora, hubo otra casa donde habitamos cuando pasamos del campo a la ciudad, que cuando paso por su frente, me detengo a mirarla y es interesante como se activan los recuerdos. Parecen tener un almacén de recuerdos, donde se guardan todas las vivencias y quedan allí por siempre.
ENGLISH VERSION
When I was a child I lived in the countryside for a while, my father had what we call here "conuco", he planted beans, corn, yucca and ocumo. He raised pigs and had a donkey to carry water from the river. When it was the time of the cachapas, it was for us like the time of the king's food. Fried pig, cachapa, milk butter, panela water. Moments of abundance, and healthy food as much as possible, from crop to table.
Every trip to the river was an adventure for us as children. Bathing, making cacimbas (opening holes near the river that filled with crystal clear water), running, laughing, throwing river sand at each other, it was the best. The harvest time was full of expectations, because my father made projects about what he would buy for the house with the sale of the harvest, which depended on all the climatic changes that could manifest themselves and that in some way could harm the quality of the harvest.
As a man already experienced in the field, the harvest was harvested successfully, a group of young people were hired, and it seemed like a party in the field, the boys sang and laughed while harvesting, the pay was also part of the harvest. My dad would go to town and sell them, and come back the next day, loaded with clothes, talcum powder for my mom and me, a hair oil with a sweet smell and red or green color, I particularly liked the red one, I never knew which oil it was, but it left the hair shiny, intensified the color of the hair and kept it well hydrated without burning it.
They were several years, I remember with nostalgia that time, because they were the best and happiest of my childhood, everything was healthy, innocent, free of anguish, without scarcity, we had only the necessary and we were very happy as children, I remember that I went as an adult 28 years later, to that place called the hills, it was a hill and an uncle still lived there, he showed us what was once our house, and at night it seemed that you could touch the moon with your hands, it was a supernatural sensation.
Going back to that place was like taking memories of the house, they were like a movie, all those beautiful memories, which have served me as spiritual nourishment, because I learned from that time to look with amazement every day, that nature is noble and wonderfully generous.
In the place where I am now, there was another house where we lived when we moved from the countryside to the city, that when I pass by its front, I stop to look at it and it is interesting how the memories are activated. They seem to have a storehouse of memories, where all the experiences are stored and remain there forever.
Tema Generador: Memorias de la casa
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