Monday, September 3, 2018

Algo Mejor / Something Better

EN ESPAÑOL ABAJO...

[Here is my last bilingual travelogue for a while. School has started and I'm horribly busy with teaching now. For this bilingual series, I compose the story in Spanish and then translate into English so that we can see my progress in learning the language. Disclaimer: All grammar errors in the dialogue are my responsibility.]

ENGLISH TRANSLATION FOLLOWS.

[Aquí está mi último travelogue bilingüe por un tiempo. La escuela ha empezado y estoy terriblemente ocupada con la enseñanza ahora. Todos errores gramatical en el diágolo son mios.]

Muy temprano una mañana, oí una voz masculine y desconocida. Me levanté y me vestí, y entonces me apuré a la cocina.

Allí conocí a un hombre mayor que se parecía a Mecho. Estaban sentados a la mesa, hablando y comiendo.

“¿Es su hermano?” le pregunté a Mecho.

El sonreió. “Sí.”

Le di la mano al hombre y dije, “Me llamo Sarah.”

Él miró a su hermano. Mecho repitío mis palabras. (Aperentemente, mi acento es muy fuerte.)

“Ah. Mi nombre es Israel, pero todos me llaman Lulu,” dijo.

“Oh. Me gusta mucho su nombre… Israel. Y tambien Lulu.”

Lulu reió.

Como de costumbre, no podía entender la conversación de otras personas, pero esto no me molestó. Miré a y escuché a los hermanos y comí mi desayuno con tranquilidad.

Después del desayuno, ellos fueron afuera, donde  Mecho hábilmente le cortó el cabello de Lulu.

“Mecho, usted tiena muchas habilidades diferentes,” dije en mi discurso lento y cuidadoso.


Él contestó en discurso rápido y animado. No entendí mucho. Pensé que él dijo que disfruta de trabajar con cosas mecánicas… o tal vez que disfruta cortando el cabello con clípers eléctricos. En todo caso, él se reía, por tanto me reí también.

Conté la historia de cuando mi papá cortó la punta del oído de un hombre borracho. “Entonces, cambió su profesión,” concluí. Mecho se reía conmigo.

Cambié mi atención al caballo en el césped al otro lado de la calle. “¿Lulu, es su caballo?” pregunté.

“Sí.” Se rió. “Es mi carro.”

“¿No necesita un carro?”

“No. Vivo en una montaña. Un carro no sirve.”

“Ah.” Miré a sus pies, sin zapatos. “¿No necesita zapatos?”

“No.” Tocó la planta de su pie. “Duro.”

Miré en la fascinación cuando montó a su “carro.” Traté de imaginar su casa en la montaña y deseé que puedo verla.


Unos días después, Lulu regresó. Cuando oí su voz antes desayuno, planeaba mi saludo mientras caminaba a la cocina. Después él me abrazó y me besó— sin colisión torpe de nuestros pómulos—dijé precisamente, “A mi me da alegria que ver usted de nuevo.”

Él hizo que yo hago cuando no entiendro una conversación: miró a Macha.

“Sarah está feliz de verle,” ella dijo. Su sonrisa era brillante,  y también la mía.

Macha me explicó que Lulu había venido porque tenía una cita medica en la ciudad. Ligia, la hija de Macha, iba a conducir a su tío mientras su caballo esperaba en la casa.

Yo tenía sorpresa que  Lulu era descalzo otra vez, a pesar de su cita. “¿No necesita zapatos hoy?” pregunté.

“No. Casi nunca llevo zapatos.”

Me pregunté cuando necesita zapatas. ¿Quizás para una boda?

Otro día, Felipe, el hijo de Ligia, nos conducío a la propiedad de Lulu. Fuimos al final de la calle, y continuamos en un sendero estrecho y enlodado. A la izquierda era una caída que me quito el aliento.


Mecho, Yo, Macha, Laura



Al final de sendero, caminamos a un arroyo, que Mecho cruzó en sus botas de goma.

“¿Dónde está la casa?” pregunté.

Macha señaló hacia arriba de la montaña. “No podemos ir,” dijo. “Felipe no tiene tiempo. Mecho va a quedarse.”

“Oh,” respondí tristemente. Tenía un deseo candente que ver esa casa, pero sólo podía ver a Mecho subir con su bastón. Ahora entendía porque Lulu necesitó un caballo.

Unas días más tarde el domingo, dije durante almuerzo, “Si es posible, quiero ver la casa de Lulu.”

Mecho pensó en esta idea. Finalmente, contestó, “Tal vez Felipe puede llevarle una tarde. Ustedes deben salir pronto después del mediodía.”

Ligia dijo que Felipe probablemente podría ir el martes, si no llovió. Tendría que cancelar mi clase intensiva, pero eso no me molestó.

Después horneé mi segundo lote de pan de banana en tres días—me siento culpable por haber presentado a mi familia Tica esta manera malsana de comer bananas—me senté junto a Macha para mirar una película de Jennifer Aniston. (Escucharla hablar español parecía extraño.)

Estaba a punto de dormirme cuando Ligia dijo, “Vamanos a la casa de Lulu.”

“¿Ahora?” pregunté, confusada.

“No, ya.”

“Oh, sí. Ya.” Recordé que en Costa Rica, “ahora” significa pronto, y “ya” significa ahora.

“Hace sol,” Ligia explicó. “Todos nosotros podemos ir.”

Antes de pude preguntar sobre el pan de banana, Macha lo envolvío en trapo y una bolsa.

Adrian, el novio de Ligia, nos conducío. Aunque me entusiasmaba con llegar a la casa, deseaba que el viaje bonito pudo durar mucho más tiempo. Sin embargo, nuestra caminata era todavía más bonita.

Nos deteníamos con frecuencia para tomar fotos.
Ligia and Mecho
Laura
Yo
Esto está el carro de Ligia lejos abajo
Porque de la caballerosidad de Mecho y Adrian, quienes sostenían los manos de las mujeres, curzaba el arroyo sin pies mojados.

Un parte grande del placer que hacer todo con mi familia Tica. Antes de alcanzamos la casa, yo dije, “Este día es el mejor de mi viaje.”

Sin embargo, más alegrías me esperaban. Cuando vi la casa, tocqué mi corazón.




¡Era como un museo vivo! El piso en la entrada era de tierra. Por encima de unas pocas escaleras, el piso de la casa era también de madera, y la luz brilló por aberturas.


En la cocina pequeña, una olla de café hervía sobre un fuego en la estufa de hierro. El fregadero y los entrepaños se extendían más allá de la pared, tal vez para secar los platos con mayor facilidad.



Cuando miraba la vista hermosa por la ventana, me sentía como Maria en la película “The Sound of Music [La Sonida de la Música].” Quería cantar, “¡Las Colinas Estan Vivas!”




Este dulce gatito se frotó contra nuestras piernas.



Me encantan el gato, la casa, y el tío. “Quiero vivir aquí,” dije con melancolía.

Miré la pesada mesa y el sofá que probablemente pertenecía a los padres de Mecho. “¿Cómo trajeron los muebles aquí?” pregunté.

“El buey,” contestó Mecho, y su hermano asintió con la cabeza.

Miré el techo y busqué esta palabra, que Mecho acababa de enseñarme recientemente. “¿Es como una vaca pero más grande?”

Mecho sonrió. “Sí.”

“¡Wow!”

Compartimos el café, pan de banana, y las historias de esta casa.

La Familia de Mecho
Aprendí que las dos primeras niñas de Macha nacieron aquí, donde la mamá de Mecho había las cachado.

“¿Vivieron ustedes aquí, con los padres de Mecho?” pregunté.

“No,” Macha contestó. “Vivimos en la casa allá.” Señaló al cumbre. “Estaba sola mientras Mecho trabajaba en la finca. Debí caminar abajo.” Ella acunó un vientre gigantesco imaginario.

Me estremecía.

Ella continuó, “Cuando nació Zeidy, tuve que sostener en Vicky mientras me bajé.”

“¡Wow! ¿Tenía miedo?”

“Sí.”

No pude imaginar que estar en duro trabajo de parto mientras caminaba abajo una montaña con una niña pequeña. Yo sólo me sacudí la cabeza.

Después el café, subimos a la pasture del caballo. El gatito nos llevó en la caminata, caminaba tan intencionadamente con sólo unas pausas para subir los árboles.
Al gato no le importaba el barro

Yo pregunté a Mecho, “¿Lulu tiene que subir por este camino cuando necesita montar su caballo?”

“Sí.”

Me preguntaba cómo este hombre de 76 años de edad podría hacer una escalada tan extenuante con su leve cojera.

Cuando llegamos a la pastura, nos sentamos en la césped y admirábamos la vista. Macha jugaba con el gato. Yo permití que la paz me saturara.

Entonces, acaricié el caballo y me sorprendí al recibir besos aterciopelados en mis manos.

Las sombras eran largas cuando descendimos. Mi corazón estaba llena, y le agradecí a Dios para el sol, la hermosura, y la compañia de mi familia Tica. Aunque había deseado una cita con Walter en este día, me alegré de que esa puerta había sido cerrada. No podría haber elegido nada mejor para este día.




======================================================
Very early one morning, I heard an unknown masculine voice. I got up and got dressed, and then I hurried into the kitchen.

There I met an elderly man who looked like Mecho, my Tica papa. They were sitting at the table, talking and eating.

“Is this your brother?” I asked Mecho.

He smiled. “Yes.”

I shook hands with the man and said, “My name is Sarah.”

He looked at his brother. Mecho repeated my words. (Apparently, my accent is very strong.)

“Ah. My name is Israel, but everyone calls me Lulu,” he said.

“Oh! I like your name very much... Israel. And also Lulu.” Lulu smiled.

As usual, I could not understand the conversation of other people, but this did not bother me. I watched and listened to the brothers and ate my breakfast contentedly.

After breakfast, they went outside, where Mecho skillfully cut Lulu's hair.

“Macho, you have many different abilities,” I said in my slow and careful speech.

He answered in rapid and animated speech. I did not understand much. I thought that he said he enjoyed working with mechanical things, or maybe that he enjoys cutting hair with electric clippers. In any case, he was laughing, so I laughed too.

I told him the story of when my father cut off the tip of a drunk man's ear. “Then, he changed his profession,” I concluded. Mecho laughed with me.

I changed my attention to the horse in the grass across the street. “Lulu, is that your horse?” I asked.

“Yes.” He laughed. “It is my car.”

“You don't need a car?”

“No. I live on a mountain. A car is not useful.”

“Ah.” I looked at his feet, without shoes. “You don't need shoes?”

“No.” He touched the sole of his foot. “Hard.”

I watched in fascination as he rode away on his “car.” I tried to imagine his house on the mountain and wished that I could see it.

A few days later, Lulu returned. When I heard his voice before breakfast, I planned my greeting while I walked to the kitchen. After he hugged me and kissed me—without any awkward collision of our cheekbones—I said precisely, “It gives me joy to see you again.”

He did what I do when I don't understand a conversation: he looked at Macha.

“Sarah is happy to see you,” she said.

His smile was bright, and so was mine.

Macha explained to me that Lulu had come because he had a medical appointment in the city. Ligia [Lee-hee-ah], Macha's daughter, was going to drive her uncle while his horse waited at the house.

I was surprised that Lulu was barefooted again, despite his appointment. “You don't need shoes?” I asked.

“No. I almost never wear shoes.”

I wondered when he needed shoes. Perhaps for a wedding?

Another day, Felipe, Ligia's son, drove us to Lulu's property. We went to the end of the road and then continued on a narrow and muddy path. On the left was a drop-off that took my breath away.

At the end of the path, we walked to a stream, which Mecho crossed in his rubber boots.

Mecho, Me, Macha, Laura


At the end of the path, we walked to a stream, which Mecho crossed in his rubber boots.

“Where is the house?” I asked.

Macha pointed up the mountain. “We can't go,” she said. “Felipe doesn't have time. Mecho is going to stay.”

“Oh,” I responded sadly. I had a burning desire to see the house, but I could only watch Mecho climbing with his walking stick. Now I understood why Lulu needed a horse.

A few days later on Sunday, I said during lunch, “If it is possible, I want to see Lulu's house.”

Mecho thought about this idea. Finally, he answered, “Maybe Felipe can take you one afternoon. You need to leave around noon.”

Ligia said that Felipe could probably take me on Tuesday, if it didn't rain. I would have to cancel my intensive class, but that didn't bother me.

After I baked my second banana bread in three days—I felt guilty about introducing my Tica family to this unhealthy way to eat bananas—I sat next to Macha to watch a Jennifer Aniston movie. (Hearing her speaking Spanish seemed weird.)

I was about to fall asleep when Ligia said, “Let's go to Lulu's house.”

“Ahora [now]?” I asked, confused.

“No, ya [already].”

“Oh, yes. Already.” I remembered that in Costa Rica, ahora (now) means soon, and ya (already) means now.

“It's sunny,” Ligia explained. “We can all go.”

Before I could ask about the banana bread, Macha wrapped it in a towel and a bag.

Adrian, Ligia's boyfriend, drove us. Although I was anxious to reach the house, I wished this drive could last much longer. However, our hike was even more beautiful. We stopped frequently to take pictures.
Ligia and Mecho

Laura


That's Ligia's Car Far Below

Because of the chivalry of Mecho and Adrian, who held the ladies’ hands, I crossed the stream without wet feet. Before we reached the house, I said, “This is the best day of my trip.” However, more joys awaited me. When I saw the house, I touched my heart.



It was like a living museum!

The floor in the entrance was made of earth. Above were a few wooden steps, and the floor in the house was also wood. Light shone through cracks.


In the small kitchen, a pan of coffee boiled over a fire in the iron stove. The sink and some shelves extended out past the outer wall, maybe to make it easier to dry the plates.
Macha

When I looked at the beautiful view through the window, I felt like Maria in the movie “The Sound of Music.” I wanted to sing, “The Hills are Alive!”




This sweet little cat rubbed against our legs.


I was enchanted with the cat, the house, and the uncle. “I want to live here,” I said wistfully.

I looked at the heavy table and the couch that probably belonged to Mecho's parents. “How did they carry the furniture here?” I asked.

“The ox,” answered Mecho, and his brother nodded.

I looked at the ceiling and looked for this word (el buey), which Mecho had just taught me recently. “Is it like a cow but bigger?”

Mecho smiled. “Yes.”

We shared coffee, banana bread, and the stories of this house.
Mecho's Family


I learned that Macha's first two daughters were born here, and that Mecho's mama had caught them.

“Did you live here with Mecho's parents?” I asked.

“No, we lived in the house there.” She pointed at the top of the mountain. “I was alone while Mecho worked in the field. I had to walk down.” She cradled an imaginary giant belly.

I shuddered.

She continued, “When Zeidy was born, I had to hold onto Vicky while I descended.”

“Wow! Were you afraid?”

“Yes.”

I could not imagine being in hard labor while walking down a mountain with a toddler. I just shook my head.

After the coffee, we climbed to the horse's pasture. The little cat led the way. It walked purposefully, with only a few pauses to climb the trees.
The cat didn't mind the mud

“Does Lulu have to climb here when he wants to ride his horse?” I asked Mecho.

“Yes.”

I wondered how this 76-year-old man could make such a strenuous climb with his mild limp.

When we reached the pasture, we sat on the grass and admired the view. Macha played with the cat. I let the peace saturate me.


Then I petted the horse and was surprised to receive velvety kisses on my hands.

When the shadows were long, we descended. My heart was full, and I thanked God for the sun, the beauty, and the company of my Tica family. Although I had hoped to have a date with Walter that day, I was glad that that door had been closed. I could not have chosen anything better than this day.



2 comments:

Unknown said...

I loved this story! I will be missing these wonderful stories of your trip. Maybe you have a few more? I also have enjoyed the pictures. It is really refreshing to be reminded that it isn't the worldly possessions that you have that make a home. And it is so nice to be a part of the simple beauty you have experienced during your trip. Thank you for sharing it.

Sarah said...

You are most welcome! I always appreciate your comments, Phyllis.

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