Above all

Search in this blog:

jueves, 13 de enero de 2011

MAMACONA LOLITA / or Mama Lola /

MAMACONA LOLITA / or Mama Lola /.

It is fresh in the morning when you woke, your white hair and cannelloni with black tips, smile on your skin, making jokes with Don Santos as you told your husband and cousin at the same time, with which you got married and was custom from your ancestors and you do not put Having A despite objections raised in the cloister of nuns as the Indians did Inca descendants.

My tata Noah was referring to you as you told Comadre and uncle and my grandfather only mentioned only as the black cholo. And I in my breaks on long trips I sat beside you to hear your stories of your childhood, like when you had to take the punishment of tata Fortunato to cover up the mischief of the most least of your brothers.

Or when I contast of Tata Basilio, who had more than 15 daughters and three sons. All the more beautiful not only the community but that his fame reached even beyond the borders the tata Basil could have imagined.

Of how the alliance with Apu Sapa Noah, land that was in Santiago de Chuco Marka, he agreed to marry the greatest of all his daughters, the mamacona Ursula, who was very brunette, but that was a specialist in beautiful embroidered blankets, in the kitchen or to say, Basilio tata visits whenever they came Tullpo commissioned him to his daughter Ursula to prepare the most delicious dishes to visitors.

After he repented because he knew it was a very sacred lineage among Indians across the country, who came to visit the largest Mallkus, Yatiris of people who had never known and was afraid that might happen to their offspring if they were known mistis. But Noah Tata reassuring, telling him not to worry, that these legends were not for him, but for some of their children's children, who knows that would not even meet him.

But as you laughed Lola breast, with your laughter thick and firm as any known lineage ñusta give the circumstances. We were saying, Tata Noah as I tell if my friend or uncle, but tell you that we are compadres for their grandson who loves you.

But what I liked most were your rosquetes and your Basit, or when your little kneading bread pan and wait till my son told me that and I will bake the bread to carry where you go and invite them. It is good to go empty handed.

And when they got your Indians as they were called, you gave to all the hospice because you cared and if everyone has breakfast with his cushalito corn and popcorn. But thank them for bringing you all kinds of offerings in their communities.

So regardless of your age, walked very hard for every site, your farm to see if it had stuck your flowers that adorned the Apostle James the Great, who were devout.

Many times you told me my Mercedario. As a child I wanted to be a priest and you and my mother you were happy, they are never going to make the legends that were told in your childhood, your grandparents about the fate of our family. But you saw that was just a little bump in the road, and resign yourself to your most beloved nephew is the stigma of their struggle for his people.

Many times you were with your basket to see and comfort him, because as you said he has no mother and her sister, so I replaced it.

And now as if you remember when you told me: "Son, my debts and I charge you mentioned, so and so owes me so much, so you charge, how can I leave if it will help me to meet my Indian that will lead to my grave my body. And I answered, you are strong aunt still will not die, but rather you'll bury me, but I paid attention and continued lecturing debts charged by many many people and many Indians claiming to Santiago where you've place to raise animals that serve meals in your grave.

Now you're not more, I do not say you want to visit Mollepata to walk through the Yum Kapac you just had cleaned the brothers to feel the force of the ancestors and take the new path. But where you're there remember me as the boy who cried blood and that saved him from death as the omen that both expecting your parents and uncles

Goodbye Mama Lolita.

Túpac Isaac II
Juan Esteban Yupanqui Villalobos

Here I am...