Before I come to Chile, I thought a lot of things to do in my country during the short time I was going to spend here. Fortunatelly, my parents and me considered to make a "Guatia" to share some time with family and friends.
"Guatia" is the name of a typical Aymara's food from northern Chile. Aymara is the race of indian people living in northern Chile, southern Peru, and Bolivia; which my family is proud to represent. Aymara are characerized as a pacific race, with a beautiful and developed music, and unfortunatelly separated for artificial bourders.
The food is prepared in a hole maked in the ground; and the food: meet, chicken, potatoes, corn, and more vegetables are cooked with hot stones, which are previously warmed up with fire.
That day everything was perfect. Some of the people that I love was there: my great parents, my brother and sister, my niece and nephew, my cousin and aunt, the family of my brother's girlfriend (Isabel), Jean Pierre and Verónica, and the famous "ligueros" (my group of friends).
I also have to mention the guatia's professionals: Señor Jorge, Señor Vilca, Señor Vilca's son (Carlos), and Señor Vilca's wife (Señora Elva).
The location was just perfect. A humble place arranged to receive humble people. Flowers putted in bottles of soda and beer, flowers putted in bricks near to the wall...
... just beautiful.
When I was living in Chile, me and my family used to go to share a lot of Sundays there, to remember our roots, and to enjoy a delicious food. As a comment, few weeks ago when I was in Poland, I was surprised because of the BIG cans of beers they drink. Nevertheless, in Chile we have HUGE bottles of wine, showing some analogies between totally different cultures.
Summarizing: we ate, we drunk...
... we spoke, we sung...
... we laughed...
... but also we cried, because Señor Jorge (with square shirt) remembered the historical moment when Abdón Mendoza, my uncle and a martyr of our family, was taken to jail by soldiers during Pinochet's dictatorship. Mr. Jorge was present in that moment, and he related the fact so deeply... that my heart was as a small stone, trying to keep my tears behind the eyes.
My friends: Spaniards, Poles, Italians, French, Mexicans... this is my people... this is the people who motivate me to work a lot, to study as crazy, to leave some parties, and to love my country.
Franco.
