Air Cooled Disadvantages

UNPUBLISHED STORIES BY THESE THINGS IN LIFE

Another story of Don Rigoberto Acosta, this intimately linked to their profession of years and as a postman in the mail from his beloved city of Lota

In 1995, while mail carriers Lota, select and sort the mail, one of them asked - who has Lautaro 5190? , "There is no number in my street said one, another adds," here in Lota no such large numbers, needs to be returned to sender no more, a third question: Who is it for? Mary Rivers Rivers ... in that moment the postman Luis, who until then was with his eyes fixed on the ceiling, as if trying to remember something, he said wait, I remember that name, but Lautaro population in the sector a, ah says Postman oldest of the group, let me see the letter, oh yes, here they wanted to Lautaro, a sector house 90; what appears to 5, is actually a letter "S", you're right, "said Louis. Then take "consultation."

As to half its usual route, Luis came to the above address. I was anxious to find out for sure with the question card, "usually did not come to that address correspondence, he touches the door moderately, on the threshold shows a young man about 18 years" Good evening, greets Luis, "a query, how Lives Here Mrs. or Miss Maria Rios Rios?, ah says her "Mary", uh ... wait ... when it appears a woman about 50 years Are you looking to Mary, asked in a shrill voice, "actually bring this letter with a direction somewhat unclear, it could be - well, answered the woman, either her or not, for that matter, no longer lives here two years ago he went to the Colonel, and with undisguised curiosity question: But ... can we know who sent the letter? Luis reads the sender and clear voice and evocative, says Filomena sends Rivers. At the moment, her face is disfigured and in a contemptuous tone and directing his face toward the interior of the house without leaving your door, says aloud: Jane looks after 20 years the "bitch" agreed had daughter bah you answer in, a good time is agreed, "the mother of the year", hahaha, he adds, "the unhappy disheartened. Luis is upset and trying to take control of the situation, looking at the letter question - what chance is there that do reach the Colonel? - No, no, no, no, no we want nothing to do with that unfortunate he left his daughter when she was abandoned two years and never seen again. Take it!, Luis nods, and as he says goodbye, kind and resolute voice, "I took the letter but for those things in life , if they succeed communicate with her, tell him keep the letter in the mail for 30 days, if you were to interested. Luis continued his work, the routine delivery lost synchronization, the vivid scene had left him very upset and also without thinking, had offered something that probably was not lawful because it was right that this letter be returned to sender with the footnote - "is a change of address" -. But for some strange reason, Luis sensed that this letter had to reach its target., Felt, without knowing why, part of the story. Besides, he thought that woman who had been abandoned his little girl so small and wondered - what you send to say after so long? -, would trying to reach it with your daughter?, why had not come for?

next day and having thought a lot during the night, first thing Luis approached discreetly where Mrs. Veronica (an official who attended the window), who maintained a good friendship and was characterized by its sensitivity, particularly for his discretion, so do not hesitate to tell in detail the unique experience, asking also keep under their charge that card, if the owner appeared. Ms. Veronica was moved by the story, looked at Louis with an indefinite term, ethereal, she knew it was unethical to accede to this request but, however, could see in his eyes, not wanting to be indifferent to this unique situation . Even knowing that risked a penalty, like Luis, with a resolute expression said - do not worry Don Luis, I will do my best and, as you know, maybe God in his good will allow this letter delivered.

A few minutes after this scene, Luis returned regular work day's mail order. Everything seemed normal, until one of the postmen remembered the letter in question. - And how did it go with the letter, was there? - Ah, Luis snapped indeed a home sector was 90, but the person two years ago had been moved, apparently lives in Coronel, but do not know the exact address, there is also a particularly good story, anyway, I left the letter to Mrs. Veronica, just in case the owner. -Uhm, we're bad because Louis, said the oldest, adding "you know the rules indicates that such cases should send the letter to sender hopefully not have problems. Other carriers were silent, but looked like challenging the decision, and Luis and I felt and was silent.

passed about 15 days, the matter of the letter was almost forgotten. That Monday, Ms. Veronica, appeared as usual greeting everyone and making a gesture to Don Luis, he calls himself with the joy a little withheld, said softly you can not imagine what happened on Saturday after you went to its distribution, at about 11:30, came the owner of the card. Luis-frowning asked: What letter?, Reacting expectant gaze immediately said count, count-,-as I said, Maria Rios came and told me that just happened to find at the fair with a certain John, who told him something about the letter, so he came right away, that himself than to give it, I asked her identification, also asked him if he knew the sender knows Don Luis, she was eager to receive the letter, also noticed that he was about to mourn, gave it just went hurriedly, thanking me not know how many times.

"As you see, already achieved the objective. Luis was very happy and excited and even his eyes were wet, not many words to say thanks Mrs Veronica, their eyes met and satisfaction demonstrating complicity.

Like a month of that related, in the time when Louis returned from his deal, looked out the window to make a bow for Mrs. Veronica, not like in the mornings, but in a lower tone, reflecting fatigue of the day. She, rather than respond with an expression of anxiety and joy, he said, - Don Luis there you are waiting, "he looked toward the back of the hall and, with surprise, saw two women smiled, most held a baby in her arms. He reached out and tried to identify them as customers their regular cast, but not actually said. With a gentle voice said - Yes, tell me, "the two women brandished a shy smile, the youngest said in a trembling voice, but happy-you do not know us, we come to acknowledge that the letter has not returned, the lady at the window explained what you did not know how much I appreciate it, I finally meet my mom, she has told me many things I know, "as he spoke, the" grandmother "tenderly embraced the baby. His face reflected a great joy, his eyes were unable to hold back the tears. She looked at the baby and then her daughter, both Luis perceived contemplation hard to describe, but could see a love that flowed from their hearts and strength, they hope, to some extent, recover the huge time they were without seeing and experiencing both a departure that only God knows why it happened. - You do not know how many hopes were placed in the letter, said the older woman - I asked God with all my heart that my daughter received it, read it because I was sure I forgive, and I was not wrong, "he said this, again looked at his daughter and the child and spontaneously became confused in a hug and burst into tears that tried to hide it, (probably because it was entering the public and out of the office) Luis not managed to say anything, her heart beat fast and without realizing it, was also involved in this emotional scene, his eyes burning, they were shiny, blinking as he tried not to do, tears would drop by the furrows of his face, but try as he might, it was impossible. Drying discreetly tried to say something, but her voice refused to leave. The women stood hugging, no words were necessary, their faces said it all, Luis not recover from his emotion thought he had never witnessed anything like it, where once again the true love triumphed, vividly reflected in these humble daughters of coal. Even with individual handkerchiefs in their hands, women affectionately took leave of Louis, he thanked the gesture corresponded in the same way, then looked up at his "accomplice" who, despite the distance, apparently was not lost detail what happened. With tears in his eyes and smiled, their eyes seem to say: "This is what God wanted. "

Author: Rigoberto Acosta Molinet

Mens Brazillion Waxing

REAL STORY OF AN EX MINING THE CITY OF LOTA

" They told me my parents. " Popular memory and mining history, was organized by Community Cultural Center and Journal Pavilion 83 Sururbana Lota.

"indelible marks" (Honorable Mention)

Author: Rigoberto Acosta Molinet

"Now everything is easy for you, I do not know how to suffer in my childhood to become what I am. My father hardly knew him, but was not even the husband of my mother, my nine older brothers had different last names, of course I did not understand why. The truth is that after 5 years my mother died and left alone in the field (around Copiulemu), being picked up by a family that they thought were my uncles, but so far ignored the relationship.

Well, there I had to start working. I had to care for and find the animals, and often returning home late, finished my work, often at night. And I say "lie no more because tomorrow you must get up very early." With tears in my eyes I went to bed very tired and hungry. The worst was in the winter because they did not even have shoes, so that was no more leg to go. How cold, especially on my feet, very cold. And while walking through the countryside while being dark, how nice it was to meet with animal manure, especially newer ones, because it introduced my feet very cold in the guano, and to some extent could feel the pleasant sensation of warmth in my feet.

For what to expect when it rained, there was much worse, because the return to find the animals and wet clothing frequently had to lie down as they come, clear that these conditions put me to sleep on straw. If you had seen when, after a while lying down, my body began to smoke. I do not know how I'm not sick, thank God, that from that time and took care of me

Do you realize what life was like before? Boy had to earn a living, not as now, kids are very comfortable and want everything given away. "

This story was my father when I was a kid told countless times, no doubt with much more detail, and in doing so, her eyes filled with tears, and often wept bitterly, and felt sorry for me.

This I remember very clearly, because every time I drank was the same. He liked to talk much and to remember his childhood (no and in his teens or youth, which he never spoke), and I have no doubt that what he told was true, because every time I recounted what it was like a replica of the above.

That if ever I heard him say anything about this when he was sober, because he was too shy to talk when she was "sanigüeno." What did it without any problem was read aloud, especially the stories of the Bible, and he liked that my mom was attentive to his reading, and she was very glad to hear it because my dad never went to school and proudly commented that he had learned to read and write as an adult, taught by a woman he fondly called "Mrs. Elizabeth" who on their own initiative (I understand) had made a commitment to teach "this huasito" I did not know 'or' or 'per round. " Naturally, reading was something defective and had a hard time putting words together with more than two syllables.

also remember very clearly when he sharpened saws miners, his work for a bank that was on the side of the corridor. Still lingers in my mind the unique sound of the file teeth by rubbing of the saw. Considering the comments that were his friends, was apparently very good at his craft, he also reported an extra income, generally used it to buy cigarettes.

also loved to tell how he met my mom

The field came to Lota, having heard that there was work in this city, was full of dreams and hope. The first thing that had to do was find out where you stay, and a figure came to the pavilion 55 of Lota Alto, where there was a lady who was board, including accommodation. Clear that housing was conditional on being assigned shift at the mine, considering that were not enough beds for all pensioners, so that if he played the third turn, must share the bed with who was in the first. "When I walked in the third, was still warm bed to sleep in the morning," said graciously.

The interesting thing was that the lady who gave the board had, among others, a sister who was Arauco, who regularly came to Lota to sell farm products, and often visited his sister, the flag 55. That's how I met her father, who despite his shyness, somehow managed to conquer it, and how good you have been so, because otherwise I would not be counting this.

That's my father, among other things very good for hopscotch. We lived at the end of the flag 56. In the corner was a field of yew, especially on Sundays we were awakened by the noise produced yews to collide. Obviously not play money, but bet one or two bottles of wine per game, and obviously when the sun was setting and the game was over, many participants were very "cured" and among them my father, who had to be aware my older brother and I to take you home (task was not easy to perform because of the many times you said goodbye).

In those famous "hen healed" enough only a phrase or a word to remember the work they did in the mine. Yes there had to be patient, because each of the participants of the conversation was better than the other in their work. They "fired" is sometimes prolonged for hours. And few things I knew of the mine without ever having got there, all proceeds of what they talked and discussed: that the miner, the APIR, the contractor, the trigger, the butler, to the discomfort of cage, which is not what the traffic, and the grain, and thus a host of terms and conditions they talked.

Of course, my dad took the opportunity to commend my mom, how well you prepared the spot and the charro, and she herself put them in the guameco, and both tied as they were always Fanam impeccable.

not quite understand the reason why I remember so clearly from these episodes. How many years would I have then? I think it was between 6 and 9 years ago. Now I have 53 years and every year that passes more and more appreciation for the brave miner. I think my duty to assess the efforts of these men who, with great sacrifice, made Lota and its people what is now. How many professionals, many artists, many public men have left and continue out of this beloved city? And that, as a result of these unsung heroes who, despite his lack of education and opportunity, not resigned to his fate, but who fought endlessly. So that their children did not live the same limitations as them.

back to my father, had paid every time we needed to be aware of their plans, because "one of those" got together with a friend in the office of payment, and the lofty to Lota Bajo. That itself was dangerous, I do not say if there were criminal or something, but it Lota reaching under were enthusiastic and they would take and spend the money that was for lunch, except that you had to go looking, we were doing homework with my brother. Such was the routine that my father was bragging about it, even bet with friends that their children would go to find him. To do mention that day that we could not find it, since in Lota Lower walked from winery to winery, and much effort we put, we could not locate him, and he had wagered. Tired of waiting for their children arrived to find him, was taken by his friends to the house and was yelling and challenging my mom "did not worry about it" and had lost a bet.

If anything I liked was when on some occasions they were looking into the holds, he took me and I climbed up a pipe (those containing large wine) and made me sing. I had no shame in it, and when he finished singing the first song (which was always the same, "Cantarito clay), he was giving me a coin initiative, which his friends imitated.

In all honesty, I never had a good voice, but I think in those days children were very shy, and mostly appreciated the boldness to do so. When we returned home, I was very happy, with some coins in my pockets, which are generally served me to buy school supplies.

This is a brief history of my father, a miner Lotina hundred percent, which although not a very concerned father of their children (for the concerns of leaving my mom), could somehow instill that " the man without a worthless study, "which to some extent influenced some of their children score at least secondary education. At present there are some grandchildren and other professionals walking over there

It seems appropriate to say that my father finally realized that drinking did not help at all, quite the Otherwise, I would greatly hurt, and I can say with satisfaction that about 15 years ago that he quit.

At the time of this story, my dad is 88 years old. Suffering from a hip problem, spends most of the time bedridden, the good care of his eldest daughter. Although he is a little deaf, his mind remains lucid and full of memories.

Rigoberto Acosta Molinet

Lota, April 2007 .-

Lifetime Fitness Membership Costs 2010

THE BOY WHO LIVES IN MY

Are oc ho in the morning, as breakfast, as I always do, d escorro window curtain, which I can observe from a distance the pavilion 56, where I spent my childhood, and part of my youth. Many memories crowd into my mind, despite having lived a childhood full of limitations.

Inside me, there is a child who refuses to grow, and hold steadfast to this stage of my life. Somehow he manages to erase the negative moments of it. This very special child, which I appreciate, is not well defined age, must have between seven and eleven , and often forces me to roam the halls 55 and 56 of Lota Alto, as if to draw from that neighborhood, the energy needed to continue existing.

. These flags are now old, neglected, lonely, silent, they are a silent witness to a past full of life, noise, laughter, joy and clamor of children. As I meditate on it, things begin to happen, everything seems to come alive, my ears are delighted with what they hear, my eyes do not resist what they see, I feel transported back and I can not resist, I actually left lead, I can see clearly the halls 55 and 56 and amazing!, I am there! shorts, hair disheveled, and with an athletic claim for the lack of buttons, tarnished shoes (actually, I messed a bit, so you do not notice that are new, and avoid being teased). I tell you ... I think it is best to count them he has a much more lucid mind and cooler than mine ... uh ... the better we will do between the two, so I will bring details he has forgotten, or do not want to mention.

I feel anxious, waiting for my dad who went to work at the first turn, must be to reach the mine, where she works, and where I also work when she grows up. Here comes my father!, As always, his face blackened with powder coal, (although there were no showers in the company) rubber even in your head (helmet, always black, as harmonized with the thick darkness of the underground) and its guameco the shoulder, where the charro has and staining. His face betrays the weariness of the day, his look is calm and resigned, although he looks at me earnestly, his eyes can not disguise that he is glad to see me. Step into the kitchen, which is quite apart from the other room, which is what makes up the entire house. Removing the rubber, and Fanam guameco (A kind of scarf around his neck, kind of bag made of flour, which used to wipe the sweat, while in the task of extracting black mineral), then removed his coat (which is always the oldest to work), and promptly sat on a straw chair, without a word, get anxious hands of my mom, porcelain vase, medium liter, with flour (preferably red wine with roasted flour and sugar), slightly moistened lips and closed her eyes and tilting her face up, enjoy the rich flour, and as you do, your throat sounds rhythmically, as thanks for the freshness of this invigorating beverage.

As usual, I have permission to bustle the guameco and remove the stain, rather, what is left of it, because all parents bring you the spot for their children, especially minors, and is very rich. My dad says that the bread, being so long in the bottom of the mine, acquired the gustito so special, like water from the charro (aluminum canteen, herbs usually containing water)

With my staining in hand I go out, savoring the delicious food. OH how nice the neighborhood full of children throughout the pavilion, that beautiful scene, the girls at play, each " the Casinet " others " the ten " ( consisting of hand bouncing a ball rubber against the wall, ten times, initially struck with the palm, then clutching the hand, hit with knuckles, and so, as the game progresses, techniques are being added with a greater degree of difficulty), but there, the smaller play " to leave the lady lady " I can hear them singing and clapping " to leave the lady lady dressed as a sailor, if you have money the charity hope "while singing, one of them, walks between two rows of girls, accompanied with the clapping and holding a special rate, and thinking about who will choose to fill place, and so on. The biggest "jump the line " which are more daring asked to give "chocolate" (he will turn the rope as hard as possible) and the challenger showed his skill and speed in the jump.

games where I participate are varied, entertaining and fun, including: " The paquito drawer", "a round of San Miguel ... - to the round of San Miguel , he who laughs is going to the barracks, which he looks back on the peel-stick " while chanting these verses, the group squatting makes a closed circle and one of us, walking behind the circle with a handkerchief knotted at one end, hit that dares to look back, "the Thinite ", " the bronze horse (my mother has forbidden me to play this game, says it's too dangerous.) The game is a bit more difficult and requires some skill, is the spin . Here in my neighborhood we do in a very particular: the idea is to push a coin or plate and run through papos, and complete turn one of the pavilions, is played as a team, ideally, three per team, usually is not so good with the top, you have to watch the opposing team, avoiding to launch the currency by hand. The run can move the currency of 10 to 50 centimeters or so, but the culmination papo puts it, that depending on the type of spin, and the ability of the player can throw the coin up to 50 meters. In all honesty, to me, usually I had to watch.

While we turn to the pavilion, we passed sinks where washing is fed up ladies, with their paddles in hand, with which give strong blows to the wet clothes, so that it will cleaner, I say. Each with its own space for the task (as does the laundry, own one of the 14 punts, tomorrow is another). It's nice to see them in this work, because they see that they are happy and talking a lot. Speak loudly, so do quietly, when they speak slowly, suddenly all laugh out loud, as they do, some cover their mouths, as if trying to suppress laughter, probably a size to some mischief.

competition Continuing the spin, we passed to the public baths (not bathing), each pavilion has a bath, which serves about six people. I afraid to go there, since that day I was busy and appeared before me, a mouse, brown curiously, staring at me, which scared it off with a shy, but effective "out." However, when the conditions are and no one in the bathroom for the ladies, I like to look at how a large iron vessel, supported by a shaft, receives water from a key that is always open, the fun is , when the container is nearly full, and with the same weight of water, leaning to one side, dropping to force all its contents, dragging everything in its path, and thus keeps the baths clean (this container is only in the women's restroom, but to pour its contents, clean men's too).

Rigo, Rigo, the voice of my mother calling me, "are ready" she says, and I entered the kitchen, take out the basket, a good piece of homemade bread, which break in two, leaving half his pants pocket and the other sirviéndomela, while I take the basket with pine nuts, and to sell away!. Starting from the sale from my house, which is the last of the flag 56 and ending in Hall 55 (between the two pavilions complete a number of 39 homes) shouting "sprockets cosicaliente, pine cosicaliente. " The first pine nuts sold, burned some hands when removing the canister and count, but as it goes on sale, being allowed to cool. I walk the two pavilions with my merchandise and the traditional cry "Pine cosicaliente." Never missing which then tells me my scream: (used the same tone of my opening speech) "to your grandmother is missing a tooth" and as a gesture apparent acceptance of the joke, replied in the same way, "and yours is missing twenty." And so, with the basket more and weighing less, I come full circle, to get to my house, delivering the money from the sale of my mother, who as always keep with great discretion, for when we lack for food in those days that my father runs her hand, and takes the silver "worth" (a very local term to refer to an advance of salary giving every Monday)

Matias Cousino at school, today I learned something new, I made some oblique streaks, each within a square of the arithmetic book, I did a full page.

Leaving school I ran to my house (distance to two or three blocks from school) had to show my mom the book as quickly as possible, but not at home, was in the oven (no more than fifty meters from my house) with some neighbors, hoping to make the bread - Look Mom what I did in school, "he said, looked at me tenderly, then smiled (as long as he smiled, could see a gold tooth that he looked very nice) looked at the notebook and stroking my hair I said aloud (to also hear the neighbors, who previously had given them a knowing look)-but well mijito, you're learning to write, "I was very happy for your comments. At that moment Ms. Elba said, "get ready, the bread is ready. Removing the oven door a few bags and a top brass was revealed that its precious contents and lulos beautiful breads!, with a special gold and the scent, ah, the smell how delicious!

Mrs. Elba is the expert with the paddle, slide it under the bread pulls it out of the oven. And each of the neighbors recognized him, by the brands that previously have. All equipped with cloth (Acts of bags of flour) for receiving the bread, taking the cloth, not to burn your hands and wiping it away, and never fails, which, looking very skilled in the art, hit the pan with knuckles, to ensure, according to the sound it produces, if the cooking the same is or is not ready. And so, baskets well stocked with linens, are filling the precious food. Once the task of taking the bread from the oven, and filled the baskets, cover neatly, so that the bread is kept warm for a while.

To appreciate all this, we must be attentive and very near the scene, so yes, I have learned not to win behind Mrs. Elba, that its task to load and unload the palette (which has a long handle) is always likely that someone gets a hit with the handle; accident that I experienced more than once, and my stature, I always played the slap in the face.

Night falls, and at the corner of the flag 55, is gradually beginning to join a group of young and old, talking animatedly about various topics, especially the film shown that day, either in the theater of high Lota or cinema Lota Laurie low. Others form a group apart, talking football and local competition (our district has two teams: the "Union and the sports club" September 18 "In addition, parties are expected to play between the two pavilions) . A group of four, apart from the rest and get to play brisca, building a focus of public lighting and a coal, that the occasion, is ideal.

is vacation time in the morning going to the pool group (owned by the ENAC, is free) most bathing suits, if not all, are handmade, usually of a vest old moms or sisters, legs go in the sleeves, and a stitch here and there and enjoy the bath! At my age, I'm good for water, they say, and to swim, unlike my friends my age, and even, I launched the trampoline and I'm proud. I should mention the time that I jumped from the springboard, out of the water and saw the "Dapple" with the clear intention of doing the same thing seemed very odd, since he can not swim. Apparently not wanting to be younger than me, the fact is resolutely climbed the diving board and jumped into a dive, I was even more surprised and thought the "Dapple" learned to swim and it was quiet. What happened next left me perplexed, Dapple surfaced with his face submerged in the water with outstretched arms, but did not move, was stunned, I thought, so, like a good boy of the film and without thinking twice, I rushed to her rescue, swimming fast, I approached him, trying take it from where he could, was at that moment, I felt a big hug from Dapple, who squeezed me so hard, he could not free myself, both began to sink, I struggled to break free, but it was impossible, had no more air in my lungs, I thought I was dying, when suddenly, unexpectedly, I felt a hard push on my back, they took me to the shore, I felt I could still take a little breath, ugh, ugh, finally I could hold the tiles of the pool, Dapple was like fainted, lying on the cement, several people wanted to help, you could hear all kinds of instructions, finally appeared the lifeguard , Who had apparently made some breathing exercises and recovered, thank God. Ah, I forgot, these timely and shoving rescuers were caused by my older brother, who acted with alacrity and intelligence (as a child was a dreamer ENAC worked until it closed, but thanks to his perseverance and innovation, today is a Lotina successful businessman, in the area of \u200b\u200bmetalworking, employing over 20 people, an example worthy of emulation)

With a great effort to achieve this little whimsical sleep, which probably sold out, like a child in every sense of the word, with that pleasant fatigue that occurs playing, no major worries, no bad thoughts or anything like it, just thinking about the next day, where you can play and play again at home.

My neighborhood ... oh my beloved neighborhood. In my 55 years of age, I am living in what was once 50 new Hall (demolished), nostalgia comes over me, time can not go back, but for this small, which maintains a constant struggle not to grow.

Today, while doing my job as a postman, (in my childhood, long thought that the only existing work everywhere, was to mine) I often Dapple and meeting with other childhood friends, some professionals, some retirees from ENAC, the majority are grandparents, others have departed.

When crossing my dear Lota, I note with sadness as some of the pavilions are deteriorating day by day. I dream that they are restored and thus keep many like me, these children who live within us and refuse to forget. FIN

Rigoberto Ignacio Acosta Molinet

Lota