"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 .-
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