Roberto Reyes Tarazona, writer and sociologist, joined the group "Narrative." In 1973 he won first prize in the national story "José María Arguedas" sponsored by the Association Nisei University of Peru, in 1985 the second prize in the "Cope" tale, sponsored by Petro Peru. Has published deadlines Hell (stories) in 1978, The Green Years of pool (novel) in 1986, New Chronicle. Peruvian social Story 1950-1990 (anthology) in 1990, In corral ajeno (stories) in 1992, The Flight of the Harpy (novel) in 1998, the tower and the birds (stories) in 2002, hunting story (anthology) in 2004, the hunt for the novel (anthology) in 2006. His novel, The Green Years of pool was translated into Romanian in 1988, some of his stories have appeared in several anthologies of Peru and abroad. He co-directed Fiction Workshop at the Universidad Nacional Mayor de San Marcos, where he is teaching the Doctorate of Literature. Teaches at the School of Architecture and Planning and Ph.D. in Political Science at the Universidad Ricardo Palma, where he is also Director of the magazine Arquitextos .
Ucumarí DANCE
-until he fell, fell, "repeated my grandfather, speaking anyone faced with committing a felony.
I turned to face him and express my sympathy, but I could have saved the gesture. Without doubt, it must be something related to his trip to Chacas, his umpteenth attempt to return to the land, although this may not seem to need for my complicity, even friendly to his glee. And that I was the only one who sided with him. What else could be expected from an awkward boy, overprotected and eager to loosen the reins to his fantasies, as I was then?
- And there are horses, tata?
- What a question! There the men move back just a beast.
- What about cows?
-cows, mules, sheep and pigs. Everything is, everything.
- What about cougars?
-On Mount, then, there they are.
- What attack people?
-only disobedient children.
His answers were always so short, only expatiated when stories about animals or ghosts. Those happy occasions arose when least expected. Usually their stories unfolded after long silences. And, of course, when we were alone. Ni Joaquin and Bathsheba, my older brothers, I paid attention, is usually made fun of him, especially when talked about his return to the legendary Chacas.
Who could blame them? His chances of returning were very remote, than money, due to his advanced age, the company needed to travel, "and who supported to overcome such a hurdle?
My mother, not too young to be said, was handed over completely to the apparel business. Vacation? For her it was almost a dirty word. Neither could be counted on Bathsheba, and despite being older. The girl, according to my mother, could not expose you to go alone to an unknown place, which I did not know how to interpret, but it seemed final. Joaquin, no way.
However, the situation took an unexpected channel. At first, I refused to believe what he saw, but had to surrender to the weight of events: reluctantly, but with an unusual docility, Joaquin had begun to make their travel arrangements. A miracle was happening before my eyes. In
score, a village at the entrance of Conchucos, there was an incident that ended up thinning the atmosphere between us.
grandfather, days before the game, seemed determined to avoid me and when it was inevitable to find, I spoke with some asperity, until I could convince my mother promises, prayers and tears, through- I also go with them. That
somewhat tempered attitude. But nothing was ever as before. At full travel, paid no attention to me, besides, contrary to his usual reserve, he tried to interact with the world. For some, speaking in Quechua and aloud to others, only whispered, and taking care to be heard by us.
Meanwhile, Joaquin, shortly after the trip, leaving his recent paper, reiterated his distaste for everything and everyone. He was blind and deaf to the new change of scenery that unfolded before our eyes: ríspidas mountains whose slopes were moving vehicles such as beetles, deafening roaring rivers the bottom of the gorges, plains ichu fuses, where the wind howled aggressive, mountains purple, green and blue in the distance.
in Mark, the grandfather rejected the restaurant provided by the driver for our lunch. Let's find a better one, he said. I did not see what the previous home, but I doubt it was more dirty and poorly cared for that place where we fell.
When we returned to the plaza, the bus had gone. Joaquin rightly began to scream, because at lunch we drank more than once, let's not go to the car.
immutable grandfather endured rain and came out with an occurrence unheard of: we should continue riding. Joaquin lost control and as smooth as he said was old fool. Soon we saw that we had no alternative: the next bus, in the best, come in three days. The grandfather then went to work and, within minutes, managed hosting and animals for the journey. The Quebrada Honda journey lasted a day and we had to leave in the morning, he told us.
Joaquin, sulking, he just launched a new string of insults against the grandfather. I, after the initial surprise and fear, I thought the trip was becoming increasingly accommodating to the extent of my dreams.
But I was wrong. In none of my dreams even brushed some of the feelings of incomparable journey.
We had a great start. That morning the sky was so full of stars stunned, they shimmered like diamonds, and seemed at hand, yet so remote that I imagined to be crazy and grandfather. So I thought I saw-or did see, a handful of shooting stars across the sky like fireworks. In the morning, the serenity and beauty of the mountains, silhouetted in the sky glowing blue and the golden sunlight, enthralled me so that I was not me. And then, in the highlands, overcome with a feeling of infinite freedom, I wanted to beg my grandfather to stay in those places and do not ever come back to their village or to Lima.
Unfortunately, my body fell short of the circumstances. Never before on horseback and as his grandfather had not given me the formula to avoid the beating and scalding, part time believed could not bear another minute on the horse. Despite my pleas, do not stop after a minute or the next, not even after an hour. And we had stopped by mid-morning at the request of Joachim, who did not seem to be having fun.
the banks of a stream of crystalline water ice in the shadow of one of the few place-stunted trees, not too leafy crown and twisted trunk, bark-peeling-red, we used to give us a truce. When you restart the run, the grandfather said that if we stopped all the time the night was going to surprise us in the middle highlands, which would be disastrous.
Due to the overload of emotions, do not pay much attention to the condition of his grandfather. When dismounted, not only had fallen in the grass of the highlands as a burden equal to or worse than us, choking on the icy wind, but his skin looked like a scroll superimposed on the bones of her face.
no doubt that his physical condition was deplorable. And it was not his only problem. But what I then knew nothing? For me, its not very strong stability on the saddle and the weak government of his horse were inevitable. No more climbing over the beast, it had begun to maneuver in a strange way, as if terrified. For a moment, afraid to throw it, but finally the grandfather, punishing her with the whip facilitated by the stable owner, was able to control it.
be who knows a half wild horse, I said, and tried to erase from my mind the look of panic grandfather before that of fierceness and determination.
By midafternoon, all battered and completely dull my sensibilities, barely paid attention to the towering snow-capped peaks, observable without looking up. We were in Portachuelo, said the grandfather, a marked by open the bones of horses and mules busted by fatigue. At the request of him we got out to take the reins of the horses. Victim of a rare astonishment, obeyed without hesitation, despite the shortness of breath, trembling legs and aching back, which I imagined made a single wound. Height vertigo for hours I do not mean anything. After skirting cliffs and many fear caused me not to look at the deepest chasms, bristling with rocks, and warn that the fog will ball up a couple hundred feet below. In this state, what mood would have to deposit in the pebbles apacheta stored in the saddlebag on the advice of his grandfather. He, however, stubborn as always, was to meet his offering to the apu. Upon seeing him stagger as if about to collapse at any time, mentally I bet that would turn around before reaching the pile of rocks a few meters up the road, or, in the best, throw the stone from a safe distance .
Of course, I was wrong. The grandfather did not just place your stone in the apacheta. Kneeling endless seconds with the chin close to your body and embraced his hat over his chest, the sparse hair blown by the wind chill, the dark silhouette for a moment it seemed a rock of the mountain.
As much as I try, I can not remember how we got or what time of night. It was nothing more than a robot guided by my horse and secured to the saddle for the mere self-preservation.
The next day, I realized that our bed was a set of ram skins, and then we had not come to town but a small cluster of huts. The grandfather was not among us, while outside, the sun shone resplendent.
- Fuck hungry! Joaquin shouted, ignoring the old woman looked at us from the door: a woman dressed in dark skirts and wearing a hat report. It was a typical farmer from the area, although light-skinned. Where have you got the old fool?
-breakfast must be ordered, "I say.
"I got screwed the old me. Already screwed, you'll see.
The woman made a sign and followed. In a rustic tables and pitchforks table under a bower rough, our breakfast was served: a steaming bowl of soup, some bread flour brown, rough and dark liquid served in a bowl enameled iron. Breakfast in silence, eating up the pieces of bark fallen on the table. Once softened the hungry, we agreed to pursue the grandfather. Before
, looked around. A few meters from our property-a building that looked like a tank or something, " rose a larger building with adobe walls, balconies and roof, and a smaller one, where smoke rose from the straw roof, flanked by the rounded shape of an oven. Without doubt, the kitchen. Small farms around the three buildings.
After looking at the small fields of environment and inspect the stinking and empty corrals, I walked to the entrance of the main building, where Joaquin was talking to a girl about his age. He informed me that the old man had gone to town. Annoyed, I asked how far was the place and she pointed to a lift on which they could see a red-roofed houses two waters and whitewashed walls, and drawings made by schoolchildren. The place seemed far away, but was suspicious of my strength to go on foot, horseback, or thought I did not want to get back on the rest of my life.
I interned in the fields - "pasture" as they say in the area, to see what was. As I go flying birds raised all kinds, especially goldfinches, doves and sparrows. I should have brought my sling, I thought, but, for the soothsayers!
Novelty beat me by a few minutes, but, as it could not hunt or observe them closely, I finally got tired of scare and follow no rhyme or reason. Where are the horses and cows?, I wondered, not wanting to assume that he was avoiding contact with our hosts. Back
, Joaquín wanted to encourage to go for the grandfather. He hardened the gesture. Should remain upset by the painful ride we did for his carelessness. Following the direction of his eyes watched the girl he was talking minutes earlier.
She was in profile and showed interest in something invisible to my eyes. Despite having put a wool sweater over a dress loose, guess her generous breasts and strong legs.
"Hey," I said. We are staying with relatives, right? "As he seemed to dislike my speech, I insisted.
"Not going to be the girl that, what's your name?, Is a cousin or something.
"I wanted to. What are the premiums if not to prove them good? "He said, going after her and leaving me with the urge to ask her grandfather.
was clear that my concerns should address them alone. If your grandfather did not return to lunch, and off I go to town to look.
Although not want to accept it, I was stunned by the idea of \u200b\u200bapproaching where the lady who served us breakfast, I had trouble thinking of it as a relative. I could not imagine telling her aunt, no, definitely could not.
If the day's ride ended with my physical strength, their results were not as devastating as those caused by the walk to town. This time, as I approached the outskirts of town, where I arrived at infinity exhaustion overcoming difficult for me to breath, I fainted.
do not know how or who transported me to the house where he regained consciousness. Although it may be an exaggeration to say that I came. Of stay in that dark room in which I appeared lying bed, just keep confusing memories.
A scene in which one-word answer questions from people interested in my state, overlaps the presence of a hairy ugly face whose only vision I fell into the abyss of oblivion. His nasal voice gave me an invincible horror, especially when I spoke with despair and muttered unintelligible words.
Maybe my real awakening came at night, when a lamparín cast a sickly light from a shelf, the rest were impenetrable shadows. Still afraid, I paid attention to the strange echoes of the night and, with difficulty, I managed to identify some of them: explosions of rockets, huaynos chords played by a band of musicians, the sound of a crowd. Recap
my latest moves: walk towards the town, the first symptoms of fatigue and oppression, despair by the proximity of the site misleading, sickness and despair for not crumbling, red veil of anxiety, black void.
Reeling, I got up and walked to the door. On the street, the green glow of the moon, whispered a ditch along the sidewalks of clay. There I saw a dark figure come wobbling. Although distant, it felt crisp the sound of music and voices. Nearby, the chorus of crickets restarted its monotonous concert. Already
nearest the solitary figure, believed to be the victim of an illusion or to suffer a nightmare. A bear. It was becoming clearer figure of a bear. I jumped back and shut the door, stuck to the tree as to the effect. I tried to calm myself by saying that in no danger. Without doubt, the people were partying and perhaps had been a circus, where the animal had escaped.
Instantly, I was banging on the door, curiously, were not scratches but compelling touches. At the same time, I heard a muffled voice, as when talking with his mouth full of crumbs, asking me to open the door. I do not scare me, I said over and over, heart pounding and giving thanks for the darkness.
When I dared to leave, after taking infinite care, I saw not a soul. More than ever it seemed to be dreaming. Frightened, heading towards the place whence came the music, mingle with people waiting, perhaps, was Joaquin or grandfather. As we increased the locals, was returning to safety. Already in the parade, I cleared my last question: it was the patron saint pondered both his grandfather. People flowed in a ceaseless flow into and out of the church and shops off the square, or by visiting the kiosks erected in the gardens, where they sold candy, candles, crafts, chicha, biscuits.
While examining some strange stone monoliths located in the atrium of the main church, I saw Joaquin laughing with the girl in the morning. The was taken from one arm and dragged to and fro. She looked rather annoyed, to the contrary. He had changed the simple dress of the morning by a miniskirt and a colorful sweater and a pair Dralon high-heeled shoes that destabilized his departure. I went, knowing that they would be welcome. I was desperate to reestablish contact with my world.
- Where do you appear, NATO? "I told him, indifferent, more boastful than ever. Its smell of liquor brought me new nausea.
-In out there.
- Did not I tell? The specialist is lost, "said the girl, smiling at one side of the mouth.
"Hey, Why not show the premium? "I snapped at close range.
"Come here," he said, pulling me aside.
-Cut and with that premium, asshole.
I stared at him, intimidated by his expression of disgust.
"Really, I thought ...
- What? ... Do not tell me you have not heard yet.
- What?
- Damn! We have no relatives, we have no properties. We have nothing! That legacy was bullshit.
"What I care" I replied. I'll get to Grandpa.
"Yes, please. But do not forget to tell me when find, I have a score to settle with that asshole.
"If you have not spoken to him, where did you get that you say?
-Bah. Anyone can tell you the truth.
- What truth?
"Hell, the old man was a pastor. Do you understand? A pastor cursed puna! A poor devil in his fucking life was a piece of land. Raised even horses or cows, but only sheep lice. What do you think?
not want to hear more and went to look. To hell if what was said by Joaquín was true, just wanted to be with him. However, despite all my efforts, I could not locate. We were in full central ceremony, after The procession made a complete return to the square and stood in the churchyard, in the light of innumerable candles the bier of the Virgin and the faint glow of the lamps in the booths nearby, began to evolve gangs of dancers. One
progressed to the sound of a band, led by a captain who gave the orders to twists and turns of step, and cracking a whip, suddenly approached the grotesque mask of a white man to viewers. Those located in the front row instinctively retreated, shouting juy waaa! whether they were male and screaming like wild birds, if they were women.
Between step one and another gang, was formed an agglomeration of people struggling to come to the bier of the Virgin-the-Ashu Mama, with its sky blue satin robe embroidered with gold, wearing their traditional tiara and swathed in a cloud of flowers. It succeeded the prayers, offerings and libations.
tempted me wanting to go to sleep, but had completely lost direction and had no idea of \u200b\u200bthe location of the house where I recovered from fainting; also wondered, on Earth do they could return. If what was said by Joaquín was true, and all signs pointed so, I had nothing to hold on and I was only waiting for the dawn to see the way back to Lima. One
the last groups of dancers trying to represent a tradition whose meaning no one could or would explain, it evolved llamas, condors and a bear. Without doubt it should be a dance of remote origin. The figure which most attracted my attention was that of a man representing the legendary ucumari or spectacled bear. The dancer, I do not know because the rules demanded it or because he was drunk, and again fell to the ground and groaned silently when he was struck by the captain, with a realism that did not stop shuddering every time it happened.
This time the dancers went on to finish. Needed to see the man unmasked ucumari disguised. But though I put all my careful not to lose sight disappeared. Would not have got rid of the costume, I wanted to, but how do you identify? I started asking for it to all who did not seem completely drunk, but nobody knew me because of their whereabouts. It was not unusual for the official squad dancers join some newcomers, especially if they were drunk enough to withstand the blows of the master. I found out, yes, the dance rescued an old belief. The ucumari, in their evolution, must show their ability to overcome any such test to reach his lair when he touches the hour of death. If he fails, his soul will be wandering in a land of shadows and eternal silence.
Then I understood. I walked to the edge of town, but not towards the village where we spent, but to the north, where it was located in one of the biggest attractions of the town, the lookout called Pirushtu. I moved to take all possible precautions, every hundred yards I stopped to catch his breath and rest ", so it took me forever to get there.
When the sun began to emerge and earth breathes morning, I could see a small dark figure moving by fits to the top of a mountain, the entrance to the territory of the frigid, desolate highlands. Given the enormity of the mass that climbed, it seemed unable to achieve its mission, especially because now and then fell and remained motionless for several minutes. However, always got up and in slow motion, first on all fours and then swaying, continued his way to fall again. At first I was overwhelmed the powerless to do anything, but soon realized that the obstinate be defying nature itself, in any case reach the top and could penetrate into the highlands of which came into this world. Only then would meet the plans set by their origin.
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