Spanish Troglodytes - The Cave Dwellers of Guadix

On the A92 between Granada and Almeria you'll come across Guadix, which is famous for the Jarra Accittanas. These ornate terracotta vases are used for wedding guests to carry their gifts for the bride and groom (no-one ever receives a TV for a wedding present in Guadix). Despite this unusual tradition and the pretty streets and buildings, the town is better known for its cave houses.

cavenders seasoning

You can find 'La Barriada de Las Cuevas' in the north of the town, and as you're walking around you half expect to see Barney Rubble leaving one of the small front doors, ready for a hard day at the quarry. The small frontage of the houses and the white square chimneys would lead one to believe that the homes are tiny, but think Tardis. The interiors can be quite large, some are even hotels. One great advantage of the cave houses is the year-round constant temperature of a much civilised 20 degrees centigrade, and when it's 40 degrees outside, you can begin to see the attraction. There are in fact around four thousand caves that form biggest inhabited cave settlement in Europe. Half the population of Guadix are Troglodytes.

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Guadix itself has been around a long, long time. Julius Caesar instigated the building of a settlement in order to mine the silver from the nearby hills, but it was the Moors who created the cave settlement. Before that, they developed an important silk industry, which put the town on a par with Granada, but in the fifteenth century they were expelled by the Christians and had no choice but to retreat to the hills and live in existing caves, or dig new ones. The ground in this area is easily excavated, so it was a natural thing to do, rather than brave the harsh outdoor elements. The name Guadix stems from the Arabic 'Guadh-Haix', which means 'River of Life' and the town was once an important centre of art and poetry. The cave museum is situated in the centre of Guadix, and is well worth a visit. Also of interest is the Cathedral which dates back to the sixteenth century. The Alcazabar, which was built in the eleventh century, is the best example of Moorish construction in the area, and from its towers a breathtaking view of the Sierra Nevadas is afforded.

Just down the road is the castle of Calahorra, which was awarded to a Christian knight as a reward for his deeds during the Christian re-conquest. It boasts an impressive courtyard made from Italian marble, which was constructed by Florentine craftsmen. Approaching the castle, you can't help but be moved by the sight of the round towers standing proudly against the Sierra Nevada mountains. Another impressive place to add to your list is the desert landscape around Benalua de Guadix. Combine this with a visit to the Banos de Las Alicun de Las Torres, and you have a fantastic day out right on the doorstep.

Fiestas play a big part of Guadix life, the main one falling on the weekend before Ash Wednesday. The summer fair takes place in the first week of September. In January the 'Romeria de San Anton takes place, when pilgrims ride nine times around the town on horseback. The Bishop gives mass on San Torcuato's day in May, before the remains of the saint are paraded through the town. Of course, Semana Santa is a very important time here, as it is throughout the whole of Spain, so there's a very good chance that your visit to Guadix will coincide with a fiesta.

Getting to Guadix couldn't be easier. The mountain tracks have been replaced by modern highways which link the town to other important centres such as Almeria, Granada and Malaga. There are international airports in both Malaga and Granada which have numerous incoming flights from Britain and the rest of Europe, so if you're looking for something just that bit different, renting a cave house could be right up your street. Many visitors take a day off from the beaches of the Costa del Sol and Costa Tropical to soak up the atmosphere of the Troglodyte village. The inhabitants of the cave houses are renowned for their friendliness and hospitality, probably because they're so cool while everyone else is steaming.

Spanish Troglodytes - The Cave Dwellers of Guadix

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How to Improve Your Latin American Spanish Conversation

If you are a student of the Spanish language and you want to improve your Latin American Spanish conversation, you should always try to learn new Spanish words. In this online Spanish lesson you will learn at least 3 new Spanish words.

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1. Desabrido - Que no tiene sabor - Without flavor

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Although "desabrido" can be used to describe food, in Colombia I have only heard this word used figuratively to describe a person. "Desabrido" reminds me of how I used to hear Latinos in the States use the word "sabroso" to describe a person even though "sabroso" literally means "delicious."

Esa muchacha es desabrida.
That young lady does not have any flavor (figuratively speaking).

2. Derrumbe - Hecho de hundir o derribar una construcción. Landslide.

El terremoto provocó un derrumbe.
The earthquake caused a landslide.

By the way, I never heard the word "derrumbe" before when I lived in the coastal Colombian city Barranquilla. But after moving to the interior part of the country or Medellín, "derrumbe" became a word that I am now well accustomed to hearing.

Instead of "derrumbe" in some Spanish speaking countries you may hear them use the word "derrumbamiento."

3. Caricatura - Dibujo animado o dibujo cómico. Cartoons.

Me gusta ver las caricaturas de la televisión porque son muy divertidas.
(I like to watch the television cartoons because they are very fun.)

"Caricatura" can refer to either a comic strip such as a drawing or it can refer to animated cartoons.

In Nueva York, the word that I heard the Mexican Learning Spanish Like Crazy instructors and voice over talent use was "dibujos animados" -- literally animated drawings.

Although I learned the word "caricatura"in Colombia, I quickly learned that hardly no one here actually says the word "caricatura." Nearly everyone in Colombia, especially the children, but including the adults, use the word "amiguitos," literally, "little friends."

How to Improve Your Latin American Spanish Conversation

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How To Conjugate Irregular Verbs in the Spanish Preterite Tense

In this lesson you will learn how to conjugate irregular verbs in the Spanish preterite tense. In fact, you will learn irregular and very irregular Verbs in the preterite or "Pretérito Indefinido." Remember, we use this tense for a specific action that happened once, or actions that indicate the exact duration.

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Some verbs in Pretérito Indefinido or Pretérito Perfecto Simple (PPS) are completely irregulars. What does this mean? Most irregular verbs change the root, but the "very irregular verbs", have a different root and different endings.

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They use these roots:

Estar: Estuv
Andar: Anduv
Tener: Tuv
Hacer: Hic (Hiz in 3zt singular)
Venir: Vin
Poner: Pus
Poder: Pud
Querer: Quis
Saber: Sup
Caber: Cup

And they use these endings:

Yo: -é
Tú/Vos: -iste
Ud./Él/Ella: -o
Nosotros/as: -imos
Uds./Ellos-as: -ieron

And there is another list of verbs, that in the last person, where it is not -ieron, it is "-eron". These verbs are:

Decir: Dij
Traducir: Traduj
Producir: Produj
Conducir: Conduj

Let' look at some sentences that illustrate these verbs.

• Ayer Juan estuvo en la casa de sus padres, ellos hicieron una cena muy grande para celebrar que Juan y su mujer tuvieron una hija./ Yesterday John was in the house of his parents, they made a big dinner to celebrate that John and his wife had a daughter.
• Ana condujo esta mañana al trabajo porque el subte no funcionaba./ Ana drove this morning to work because the subway was not working.
• Timothy tradujo su c.v al español porque quiere trabajar en Perú./ Timothy translated his c.v into Spanish because he wants to work in Peru.
• Nosotros anduvimos en bicicleta por el parque el domingo. We traveled by bicycle through the park on Sunday.
• Cuando el profesor me hizo esa pregunta, no supe qué contestar./ When the teacher asked me that question, I didn't know how to answer.
• No pude salir anoche, porque tuve que trabajar./ I could not go out last night because I had to work.
• Qué lástima que no viniste a la fiesta./ What a pity you did not come to the party.

There are other verbs that change just the root.

• The first group consists of verbs that change from E to I in third persons. Example:

Pedir: Pedí, pediste, pidió, pedimos, pidieron.
Servir, despedirse, vestirse, desvestirse, mentir, medir, preferir.

• The second group consists of verbs that change from O to U in third persons. Example:

Dormir: Dormí, dormiste, durmió, dormimos, durmieron
Morirse, dormirse.

• The third group consists in verbs that change from I to Y in third persons in the ending. Example:

Distribuir: Distribuí, distribuiste, distribuyó, distribuimos, dsitribuyeron.
Construir, leer, influir, concluir.

• The fourth group consists in verbs that don't use E in third persons. Example:

Reir: Reí, reiste, r-ió, reimos, r-ieron.
Sonreir, freir.

If you need additional practice on the topic of how to conjugate irregular verbs in the Spanish preterite tense, do a Google search for the Verbarrator software. The Verbarrator was designed to help native English speaking students learn how to conjugate Spanish verbs in a fun way. Another tool that I recommend for learning this topic is Practice Makes Perfect: Spanish Verb Tenses which is available at Amazon.com

How To Conjugate Irregular Verbs in the Spanish Preterite Tense

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Forenoon Snow (Minnesota's Emerald Snow)(Now In Spanish and English)

Above--, emerald snow, flows

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Down (On Minnesota green),

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As I look out my window:

Gaze upon the snowy skies,

Capture the morning scene--!

Boundless and swift, untroubled:

Are--, its snowy glistening hues!...

Happy I thought: to see this soft

Emerald, forenoon snow...

"Follow me, O' yes, please do":

I called unto the Forenoon Snow:

"Follow me into my memories,

For times when I am old!... "

#940 (12/3/05)

Note (by the author): "This afternoon, I walked out into the soft snow in my driveway; whizzed the snow away from my car with a broom. Then I remembered how beautiful it all is, winter in Minnesota (how it was, used to be, is); I was kind of in a trance looking at it all descend from the sky, onto the green tree in our yard, the car, driveway, me. I had waked up earlier, and looked out the window (prior to this), and it was boundless snow that filled my eyes: I remember thinking, 'What a blessing to be able to simply absorb this all'. Later on that evening my wife said: "I love walking in the snow," she's from Peru, and this is her sixth winter in Minnesota. She has learned there is no other place on earth that has such a wonderful and full winter. Long it is, but beautiful. And then she said that evening as we left the bookstore, to get into our car, "Look at the snow how it glistens," it was doing just that with the lights of the bookstore, and arch light by the car, and moon, it all set the mood, touched our senses, this was not a perchance thing, it was a God sent thing; she has learned what we Minnesotans take for granted: Minnesota is by far, the wonderland of all lands in the world, in winter, and St. Paul, is surely the city of cites to enjoy a winter in.

I have learned one must grab the novelistic beauty of a thing, and bottle it, before it disappears"

In Spanish

Translated by Nancy Penaloza

Nevada matutina

(La Nieve De esmeralda de Minnesota)

Encima-, la nieve de esmeralda fluye

Abajo (Sobre Minnesota verde),

Mientras miro fuera de mi ventana:

¡Mirando fijamente sobre los cielos nevosos,

Capturo la escena de la mañana-!

Abundante y rápido, sin problemas:

¡Son-, sus matices nevosos que brillan!...

Feliz pensé: por ver esta suave

Esmeralda, nieve de la mañana...

"Sígame Oh sí, por favor hágalo":

Llamé a la Nieve de la Mañana:

"¡Sígame dentro de mis memorias,

Para tiempos cuando este viejo!" ...

940 (12/3/05)

Note (por el autor): " Esta tarde, ande sobre la nieve suave en mi camino regreso; sacudiendo la nieve lejos de mi coche con una escoba. Entonces recordé cuan hermoso es todo esto,, el invierno en Minnesota (como era, solía ser, es); era una especie de en un trance mirando descender todo del cielo, sobre el árbol verde en nuestra jardín, el coche, me conducía. Yo había andado temprano, y mirado por la ventana (antes de esto), y esto era la nieve abundante que llenó mis ojos: recuerdo pensando "Que bendición ser capaz de absorber simplemente todo este". Más tarde esa tarde mi esposa dijo: " Me gusta andar en la nieve", ella es de Perú, y esto es su sexto invierno en Minnesota. Ella ha aprendido que no hay ningún otro lugar sobre la tierra que tiene un invierno tan maravilloso y lleno. Largo es este, pero hermoso. Y luego ella dijo esa tarde cuando dejamos la biblioteca, para entrar en nuestro coche, " Mira la nieve como brilla", estaba haciendo justo esto con las luces de la biblioteca, y por la luz de arco del coche, y la luna, todo esta disposición del juego, tocó nuestros sentidos, esto no era una cosa incierta , era algo enviado por Dios ella ha aprendido lo que nosotros los Minnesotanos damos por echo: Minnesota es por ahora, el país de las maravillas de todas las tierras en el mundo, en el invierno, y Saint Paúl, es seguramente la ciudad de ciudades para disfrutar de un invierno. He aprendido que hay que agarrar la belleza novelística de una cosa, y embotellarlo, antes de que esto desaparezca"

Forenoon Snow (Minnesota's Emerald Snow)(Now In Spanish and English)

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The Big House in Erie (1973) a Poem (In Spanish and English: NOW!)

I was invited to my boss' house

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I was young so young back then,

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Perhaps twenty-five; l lived in Erie,

Pennsylvania, 1973

I hung around with his nephews

And when I saw his big house, it

Somewhat startled me: made of:

Red-brick, smoothly mortared

In-between: a few chimneys on

Each side of the house, Victorian;

It was a big, a huge house--windows

Everywhere: all around, up, down;

To a poor kid like me, my eyes

Were mortified, they were shaken:

(Hands fidgeting, legs weakening)--

I had to catch my breath.

When I walked inside, my boss was

Surprise, yet greeted me well, cheerful

I think he noticed I felt a bit

Uncomfortable (I was brought up

In an extended family where two bedrooms

Fitted four families); so, I smiled the best

I could, looking about the house

It was to me: Buckingham Palace.

When I was fifty-five

Years old, yes, a quarter century plus, had

Passed, I owned several big houses, one

Bigger than his;

And never did I once forget that big house,

In Erie.

Note from the Author: While locked out of my house today, sitting in my car, in my garage, having two hours to throw to the wind until I have to pick up my wife, this big old house in Erie come to mind ((9:10 PM)) 2/23/2006. #1244

IN SPANISH

Translated by: Nancy Peñaloza

La casa grande en Erie (1973)

Me invitaron a la casa de mi jefe

Entonces yo era muy joven,

Quizás veinticinco; yo vivía en Erie,

Pensilvania, 1973

Deje pasar el tiempo con sus sobrinos

Y cuando vi su gran casa, esto

Un tanto me asustó: hecho de:

Ladrillo-Rojo, suavemente enfoscado

Entre: algunas chimeneas en

Cada lado de la casa, Victoriana;

Esta era una grande, una enorme casa-ventanas

Por todas partes: todo alrededor, arriba, abajo;

Para un pobre muchacho como yo, mis ojos

Estaban avergonzados, ellos fueron sacudidos:

(Manos moviéndose nerviosamente, piernas debilitadas) -

Tuve que coger mi respiración.

Cuando caminé adentro, mi jefe estaba

Sorprendido, sin embargo me saludó bien, alegre

Pienso que él notó que me sentía un poquito

Incómodo (yo fui educado

En una familia amplia donde dos dormitorios

Empotraban cuatro familias); Así pues, Sonreí lo mejor

Que pude, mirando la casa

Esto era para mí: el Palacio De Buckingham.

Cuando yo tuve cincuenta y cinco

Años de edad, sí, un cuarto de siglo más, había

Pasado, yo fui dueño de varias casas enormes, uno

Más grande que el de él;

Y nunca jamás olvidé esa casa grande,

En Erie.

Nota del autor: Mientras encerrado fuera de mi casa hoy, sentado en mi coche, en mi garaje, teniendo dos horas para lanzar al viento hasta que tenga que recoger a mi esposa, esta vieja casa grande en Erie viene a mi mente ((9:10 PM.)) de 2/23/2006.
#1244

The Big House in Erie (1973) a Poem (In Spanish and English: NOW!)

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Kina Malpartida Vs Halana Dos Santos, In - Championship Fight (In English and Spanish)

(A Barroom Sketch)

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June 20, 2009

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Sitting in a bar in with my buddies in Lima, Peru watching the world woman's Boxing Championship bout for defense of the World Title Superfeather, between Kina Malpartida, of Peru (called the Champion of the Poor) and Halana Dos Santos of Brazil ... ...and

"I never saw a female boxer fight so hard to the styles of a man before, and with near the same strength, clean and swift and as beautiful as Mohammad Ali. There never was a woman like that. She moved just like a bull and tiger both in one, like Rocky Marciano, she was a little nervous at first though." Lee told his drinking buddy, Enrique.

"Do you know her?" one of the men asked sitting next to Enrique, in the bar.

"Did I know her? I know about her like you know about nobody in the world and I love boxing like you love the God of Wine (the man was drinking a glass of Trapiche, Malbec, 2008, red wine, from Argentina.) She is the greatest, finest, Peruvian, most stunning woman boxer that ever lived, and Halana couldn't put her down like a dog, as she thought she might."

"Did you go down and see the fight?" asked the stranger.

"No. I was right here, it just ended. She's the only female boxer worth her salt."

Lee tried to be respectful to the bald headed wino, who said all this in a high melodramatic way, but Enrique was starting to shake his head as the stranger leaned over by him.

"You should have married her," said the wino.

"It wouldn't have hurt her career," said Lee, to the bald headed wino, "but I'm already married."

"Well I guess that's a drawback, a husband isn't what she really needs anyhow," said the stranger.

"Gosh, what a fighter she was," repeated Lee.

"That is a fine way to look at it," commented Enrique, his brother-in-law, "Didn't Kina knock her out, it happened so fast I didn't get to see the end result?"

"A technical knockout is what they call it," said Lee, "she was in the corner, and it was curtains, had they not stopped the fight."

"It was a trick," said the wino, "the Peruvian took Halana by surprise."

"Kina knocked her down," said Lee.

"She turned to smile at me, and that got the Peruvian the knockout!" remarked the wino.

"I thought you said you weren't at the fight?" said Lee.

"No, you said you were not at the fight, I went out just for the fight."

"It was a great fight," remarked Enrique, then whispered to Lee, "I hope to god this creep leaves."

"How can you say that?" said the wino to Lee and Enrique.

"I say it because it's true," Enrique said. "I'm the only one here sitting next to you, leave us in peace."

"What did he say?" said the wino to Lee.

"He said you're a drunken wino, and he knows Kina and she's going to come here after the fight and knock the shit out of you for bothering her brother-in-law."

"It's a lie," the wino said.

"It's true," Enrique said, "That's truly what he said."

"It's a lie," the wino said proudly.

And just then, some woman next to the wino hauled off and hit the wino, and he fell on the floor, and she said, "And it doesn't make any difference to me whether you believe it or not, I'm the sister-in-law of Kina," and the drunk just smiled as he looked up at her, and said, "It could be possible."

Written one day after the fight, 6-21-2009
Inspired by, and dedicated to: Kina Malpartida.

Spanish Version

Kina vs. Halana en:
Campeonato de Boxeo

20 de Junio del 2009

Un Sketch

Sentado en un bar con mis amigos en Lima, Perú
viendo el campeonato de boxeo de mujeres por defensa del
Título Mundial Superpluma, entre
Kina Malpartida, de Perú (llamada la Campeona de los Pobres)
y Halana Dos Santos de Brasil...

"Nunca antes vi a una boxeadora pelear tan duro al estilo de un hombre, casi con la misma fortaleza, limpio, rápido y tan lindo como Muhamad Ali. Nunca hubo una mujer así, ella se movía como un toro y un tigre juntos, como Rocky Marciano; aunque ella estaba un poco nerviosa al comienzo". Lee le dijo a Enrique con quien estaba bebiendo.

"¿La conoces?" Preguntó uno de los hombres que estaba sentado en el bar junto a Enrique.

"¿Si la conozco? Sé acerca de ella tanto como tú sabes acerca de nadie en el mundo y me gusta el boxeo como a ti te gusta el dios del vino (el hombre estaba bebiendo un vaso de vino tinto Trapiche de Argentina). Ella es la más grande, la mejor, peruana, la más sensacional boxeadora que alguna vez ha existido, y Halana no la pudo derrotar como ella pensó lo haría".

"¿Fuiste al coliseo para verla pelear?" preguntó el extraño.

"No. Estuve sólo acá, justo acaba de terminar. Ella es la única boxeadora que vale".

Lee trataba de ser respetuoso con el alcohólico hombre calvo, que hablaba en una alta forma melodramática, pero Enrique estaba empezando a mover su cabeza mientras que el extraño se recostaba en él.

"Tú deberías haberte casado con ella" dijo el alcohólico.

"No hubiera hecho daño a su carrera", dijo Lee al alcohólico, "pero ya estoy casado".

"Bien, pienso que esto es un inconveniente, un esposo no es lo que ella realmente necesita de todas formas" dijo el extraño.

"¡Cielos! Qué luchadora es ella", repitió Lee.

"Esa es una buena forma de mirarlo" comentó Enrique, su cuñado, "¿No la noqueó Kina? Pasó tan rápido que no llegué a ver el resultado final"

"Un noqueo técnico es lo que llaman" dijo Lee, "ella estaba en la esquina, y hubiera sido la muerte si no detenían la pelea".

"Era un truco" dijo el alcohólico, "La peruana agarró a Halana por sorpresa".

"Kina la noqueó" dijo Lee.

"Ella se volvió para sonreírme, y así la peruana consiguió el golpe de gracia" remarcó el alcohólico.

"Pensé que dijiste que no habías ido a la pelea" dijo Lee.

"No, tú dijiste que no fuiste a la pelea; yo fui afuera sólo por la pelea".

"Fue una pelea grandiosa" remarcó Enrique, luego le susurró a Lee, "Espero que este asqueroso se vaya".

"¿Cómo puedes decir eso?" dijo el alcohólico a Lee y Enrique.

"Lo digo por que es cierto" dijo Enrique, "soy el único acá sentado a tu lado, déjanos en paz".

"¿Qué dijo?" preguntó el alcohólico a Lee.

"El dice que tú eres un alcohólico y que él conoce a Kina y que ella va a venir acá después de la pelea a golpearte por molestar a su cuñado".

"Es una mentira" dijo el alcohólico.

"Es verdad" dijo Enrique, "Es verdad lo que él dijo".

"Es una mentira" dijo el alcohólico orgullosamente.

Y justo entonces, una mujer cerca al alcohólico se armó de valor y golpeó al alcohólico, él se cayó al piso y ella dijo: "y me da lo mismo que creas o no, soy la cuñada de Kina", y el alcohólico sólo sonrió mientras que la miraba a ella, y dijo, "Puede ser posible".

Escrito un día después de la pelea, 21-06-2009
Inspirado y dedicado a Kina Malpartida.

Kina Malpartida Vs Halana Dos Santos, In - Championship Fight (In English and Spanish)

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El Mismo Vs Lo Mismo and Que Vs Cual In Spanish

In this lesson we are going to cover the topic of el mismo vs. lo mismo and qué vs. cuál in Spanish since this is one of the most common questions students of Spanish have. Then we will discuss how to use "tan" in the Spanish language.

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1) We use "El mismo" or "La misma", when we are specifically talking about what are we are talking about. For example: "Ese auto, es el mismo que tengo yo" (That car is the same that I have), "Vivo en la misma casa que hace 20 años" (I have been living in the same house for 20 years).

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But "Lo mismo" means "the same thing". For example: "es lo mismo" (is the same thing). "Es lo mismo tomar el subte o autobús por la mañana porque ambos están muy llenos. "(It's the same to take the subway or bus in the morning because they are both full.) "No es lo mismo té que café" (Its not the same thing, tea and coffee).

2) It is a common error among Spanish students to confuse "Qué" and "Cuál ", because sometimes "What" in English is "Cuál" in Spanish and vice versa.
We use "Qué" to ask about a definition: "¿Qué es un pingüino?: es un ave que vive en el hemisferio sur....."(What is a penguin?: it is a bird that lives in the southern hemisphere )

We use "Cuál" when we want ask about a selection, an option. For example: "¿Cuál es tu color favorito?" (Which is your favorite color?), "¿Cuáles son tus películas favoritas?" (What are your favorite movies?), "¿Cuál es tu nombre?" (What is your name?), "¿Cuál es tu casa?" (Which is your home?), ¿Cuál es el pingüino? (Which is the penguin?) (In this last question, you have to imagine that I have a group of different animals and I am showing them to you.)

We can use "Qué" for a selection next to a noun, but never can we use "Cuál" next to a noun.
"¿Qué color te gusta más?" (What color do you like more?), "¿Qué vino prefieres?" (What wine do you prefer?)

3) "Tan" is an adverb, which we can use before an adjective, to make comparisons. For example: "Raúl es tan alto como Luis" (Raúl is as tall as Luis), "Esa casa no es tan cara como la casa de la esquina" (That house is not as expensive as the house on the corner). If we are comparing nouns, we should to use Tanto/a/s depending on if the noun is feminine or masculine: "Hay tantos hombres como mujeres aquí" (There are as many men here as women). And if we are comparing verbs, we have to use "Tanto": "Ernesto no toma tanto como Oscar". (Ernest does not drink as much as Oscar).

But we can also use "Tan" with an adverb, adjective or adverbial phrase to put emphasis or reduce its meaning: "El curso es tan interesante que no quiero que termine" (The course is so interesting that I do not want it to end), "No puedo caminar tan rápido". (I can not walk so fast).

In same occasions it is used to justify something done. "La clase era tan aburrida que nos fuimos" (The class was so boring that we left), "Llovía tanto que tuvimos que quedarnos" (It was raining so much we had to stay). Note: pay attention that we also use "tanto" with verbs.

If you are still struggling with Spanish grammar after reading this article, I recommend that you read any one of the several books in the Practice Makes Perfect series, including Spanish Pronouns and Prepositions. You may also find the interactive Verbarrator software useful in the area of conjugating Spanish verbs.

El Mismo Vs Lo Mismo and Que Vs Cual In Spanish

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The Big Carrot (A Minnesota Short Story - 1958) Reedited 3-2009 (In English and Spanish)

[186 Cayuga St., St. Paul, Minnesota: 1958]

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Ernest Brandt, who was my mother's boyfriend for some forty-years, found out my secret when I was eleven years old, back in the summer of '58, in St. Paul, Minnesota. He had about half acre of land in the city, and a big garden and he gave me a small section of it, to grow carrots.

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Well, I was grateful, and so I tried to copy him by planting my seeds in a number of rows: not too close to each other, and not too far apart, and I'd pick out the weeds, water my patch in the garden, and so forth and so on; but my carrots just didn't grow like his: but my envy did.

Well, we lived next door to each other; an empty lot separated the houses. In any case, it wasn't a long hike to his garden: just a short walk across the field and a simple jump over his fence.

So it was that that every so often I'd go and check on my garden to see how my carrots were doing and they were not doing very well, not compared to his anyhow. Therefore, this one day, summer day, in 1958 my mother had just come down to visit him (he could see her walking from our home to his), and so I knew he'd not be back in the garden for the rest of the evening. They took turns going to each other's houses, but as time went on, and I got older, it seemed she preferred his house, perhaps because of my grandpa and his orneriness.

In any case, Ernest went into his house, and I got to looking at his garden, comparing it to mine, since they were side by side, and he had many different vegetables growing in his garden, but somehow I was more interested in how his carrots were growing. The top of his carrots were as round as my writs, and mine were as round as my thumb: this was not just, not fair by any means, so I felt, and envy set into me, like white on rice.

Consequently, I looked here and there, mostly at the backdoor that lead out to a wooden platform, an open porch kind of, to see if Ernie was coming, and he wasn't. Carefully I dug around a big carrot of his, pulled it out, from the back row by the fence, surely I thought, he'd not miss this one simple big carrot among so many. Then I padded the dirt around it so he'd not expect any dirty deeds were played on him (but life is never so sweet, and simple, is it: what goes around comes around, and when it does it often smashes right into you).

So the deed was done, and I went back home to watch television with grandpa-I hid a few apples in the side of the sofa as I usually did so grandpa would not see them, because across from me he sat, watching me as usual, like a hawk, and watching television as usual, a western as he liked most often, and when he'd spot my fruit, he'd say, "Vhen you e'er goin' to stop eatin' ?" his pipe half out of his mouth, as if it was going to drop any minute on the floor, half lit he'd put it in the ashtray burning slowly, sit back in his sofa chair again, refocus on his western.

Accordingly I'd hide the rest of my fruit, and he'd think I was eating my first apple or orange all the time, and that was it, and not be the wiser to my little ploy until I was brave enough to get up and go out to the kitchen open the noisy refrigerator, and who could hide that charade, yet it would be my fifth or sixth.

Anyhow, about 9:30 PM, my mother came home with Ernie, he always walked her home, and they were in the kitchen. My mother asked me to come in the kitchen for a moment, and every time she asked that, I knew I was in trouble. And I was in trouble, and I did go into the kitchen. Ernie was there with a big carrot in his hand, for a moment I thought it was just some vegetables from his garden he'd often bring over to the house for my grandpa or mother, and he said:

"Does this look familiar?"

"No," I said, "Why?" (But of course it did look very familiar.)

"I think it does," said my mother, with a hawk's eye, that looked through me.

"Well," she said, "Ernie found this in your garden, and for some odd reason it didn't seem to belong there with all your little carrots."

I had replanted it you see, thinking how proud I'd be to show it off later.

"Yup," I said (I couldn't talk my way out of it I knew), adding, "I, I didn't think taking one carrot would matter, I mean you got all the big ones, I got only small ones."

Perhaps a little logic to my statement, but surely not justification for the theft and I guess that is what it really was. Now that I look back, I think they were trying to hold back the humor of the situation, but it was stealing nonetheless, and it had to be dealt with. Little white sins, or distortions, or deletions, they all add up after a while and become big white sins, and then who knows where it could go, or lead into to, and I'm sure that is what my mother was thinking. But I would never have made a thief; I got caught all the time that is the few times I tried to get away with something.

"Didn't it seem obvious that it would stand out?" asked my mother (I think my envy blinded me). I simply shrugged my shoulders, I wasn't thinking logically.

I looked a bit anxious for being caught; I guess I was sorrier for being caught, less sorry for taking the carrot: in any case, I said, "I never thought of it." And that was the truth.

Written in St. Paul, Minnesota, 9-24-2005/revised 3-3009

Spanish Version

La Zanahoria Grande
[Calle Cayuga # 186, San Pablo, Minnesota: 1958]

Ernesto Brandt, quien fue el enamorado de mi madre por cerca de cuarenta años, descubrió mi secreto cuando yo tenía once años de edad, allá en el verano de 1958 en San Pablo, Minnesota, Estados Unidos. Él tenía cerca de medio acre de terreno en la ciudad y un jardín grande y él me había dado una pequeña sección de este para plantar zanahorias.

Bueno, yo estaba muy agradecido y por eso traté de imitarlo plantando mis semillas en varias filas, no tan cerca uno del otro y no tan separadas tampoco, y yo le sacaba la mala hierba, regaba el trozo del jardín, etc.; mas mis zanahorias no crecían como las de él, pero mi envidia sí.

Bien, vivíamos uno cerca del otro; con un terreno vacío que separaba las casas. En todo caso, no era una larga caminata hacia su jardín; sólo un corto recorrido a través del campo y un simple salto sobre su cerco.

Por eso era que cada cierto tiempo iba a revisar mi jardín para ver cómo iban mis zanahorias y ellas no estaban muy bien, no comparadas con las de él, en todo caso. Así que, este día de verano en 1958, mi madre justo había bajado a visitarlo (él la podía ver caminando hacia su casa) y por eso yo sabía que él no volvería al jardín por el resto de la tarde. Ellos se turnaban yendo a la casa del otro, pero mientras el tiempo pasaba y yo crecía, parecía que ella prefería ir a la casa de él, talvez debido a mi abuelo y a su mal carácter.

En todo caso, Ernesto entró en su casa, y yo me quedé mirando a su jardín, comparándolo con el mío, ya que ellos estaban uno al lado del otro, y él tenía muchos vegetales creciendo en su jardín, pero de alguna forma yo estaba más interesado en ver cómo sus zanahorias iban creciendo. La parte de arriba de sus zanahorias eran tan redondas como mis muñecas, mientras que las mías eran tan redondas como mi pulgar; esto no era justo, no por ningún medio, eso yo sentía, y la envidia se apoderó de mi, como mi sombra.

Consecuentemente, miré aquí y allá, más que nada hacia la puerta de atrás que conducía afuera a una plataforma de madera, una especie de terraza abierta, para ver si Erni estaba viniendo, y él no lo estaba. Cuidadosamente escarbe alrededor de una de sus zanahorias grandes, y la jalé, de la fila trasera del cerco. Pensé que seguramente él no notaría esta simple zanahoria grande entre muchas otras. Luego rellené el hueco con tierra, así él no sabría que alguien le había jugado un acto sucio (pero la vida no siempre es tan dulce y simple, es: lo que va, viene y regresa, y cuando esto sucede a menudo choca directo en ti)

Entonces el hecho estaba dado y volví a casa a ver televisión con mi abuelo-escondí unas cuantas manzanas por el lado del sofá, como usualmente lo hacía para que mi abuelo no las viera, porque él se sentaba al frente de mi, mirándome como un halcón como siempre, y viendo una película del oeste como frecuentemente a él le gustaba, y cuando él miraba a mi fruta decía "¡cuándo vas a parar de comer!" su pipa casi la mitad afuera de su boca, como si se iba a caer al piso en cualquier momento, él la ponía sobre el cenicero medio encendida quemándose lentamente, y se sentaba de nuevo en su sofá centrándose en su película del oeste de nuevo

En consecuencia yo escondía el resto de mi fruta, y él pensaba que yo estaba comiendo mi primera manzana o naranja todo el tiempo, y no descubría mi pequeña estratagema hasta que yo fuera lo suficientemente valiente para levantarme y salir a la cocina a abrir el refrigerador ruidoso, y quién podría ocultar aquella charada, aunque sería mi quinta o sexta fruta.

En todo caso, alrededor de las 9:30 de la noche, mi madre vino con Erni, él siempre la acompañaba de regreso a casa, y ellos estaban en la cocina. Mi madre me pidió que fuera a la cocina por unos minutos. Cada vez que ella me pedía esto yo sabía que estaba en problemas. Y estaba en problemas, y fui a la cocina. Erni estaba allí con una zanahoria grande en sus manos, por un momento pensé que eran sólo algunos vegetales de su jardín, ya que él frecuentemente traía algunos a la casa para mi abuelo o mi madre, y él dijo:

"¿Te parece esto familiar?"

"No" le dije, "porqué" (pero por supuesto que este me parecía muy familiar)

"Creo que sí lo es" dijo mi madre, con unos ojos de halcón que me traspasaban.

"Bueno" ella dijo, "Erni encontró esto en tu jardín y por alguna rara razón parecía que esta no pertenecía allí con todas tus pequeñas zanahorias".

Yo lo había replantado, ya ves, pensando cuán orgulloso estaría de mostrarlo más adelante.

"Si" dije (sabía que no podía escaparme) añadiendo "Yo, yo no pensé que sacando una zanahoria importaría, quiero decir que tú tienes todas esas zanahorias grandes, mientras que yo sólo tengo unas pequeñas"

Talvez era un poco de lógica a mi afirmación, pero por seguro no era una justificación por el robo y supongo que esto era en realidad. Ahora que recuerdo, creo que ellos estaban tratando de aguantarse la risa por lo gracioso de la situación, pero era un robo nada menos y tenía que ser tratado como tal. Pequeños pecados blancos, distorsiones, o supresiones, todos ellos suman después de un tiempo y se convierten en enormes pecados blancos, y luego quién sabe a dónde podrían ir, o conducir, y yo estoy seguro que eso era lo que mi madre estaba pensando. Pero nunca me hubiera convertido en un ladrón, siempre fui descubierto, es decir las pocas veces que traté de salirme con algo.

"¿No te parecía obvio que este resaltaría?" me preguntó mi madre (creo que mi envidia me cegó). Simplemente yo encogí mis hombros, no estaba pensando razonablemente.

Parecía un poco preocupado por haber sido descubierto; creo que estaba más arrepentido por haber sido descubierto y menos arrepentido por haber cogido la zanahoria; en todo caso, dije: "nunca lo pensé así." Y esa era la verdad.

Escrito en San Pablo, Minnesota el 24 de febrero del 2005. Revisado en mazo del 2009.

The Big Carrot (A Minnesota Short Story - 1958) Reedited 3-2009 (In English and Spanish)

Esa

How To Use The Spanish Verb Haber As An Impersonal Verb

In this lesson we will see how to use the Spanish verb "Haber" as an Impersonal Verb, when you should use it and when you should not. "Haber" is an Impersonal Verb for expressing existence. In the present tense the conjugation is HAY (There is/are), and it doesn't change in singular or plural, the verb is always used as "hay".

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For example:
"¿Qué hay en la heladera?" (What there's in the fridge?)
Hay leche (There is milk)
Hay verduras (There are vegetables)
Hay carne (There is meat)
No hay manteca. (There is no lard.)

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We can use HAY with:
• Indefinite Articles: un/unos/una/unas
Hay unos árboles muy altos en un parque nacional de San Francisco. (There are some very tall trees in the national park in San Francisco.)

• Uncountable Nouns or Nouns that are Plural.
Hay cerveza en la heladera. (There is beer in the fridge)
Hay playas en Ecuador. (There are beaches in Ecuador)

• Numbers.
Hay cinco sillas en la sala. (There are five chairs in the room)

• Adjectives expressing quantify: Mucho/a/s - Poco/a/s
Hay mucha comida en esa mesa. (There is a lot of food on that table)
Hay muchos estudiantes en la escuela. (There are many students in the school)
So, we use HAY to speak about nonspecific things. Because of this, we can't use it with El/los/la/las (definite articles) or names.

We can NOT say: "Hay el barrio Copacabana en Río de Janeiro". We should say: "Está el barrio Copacabana en Río de Janeiro" ( The Copacabana neighborhood is in Río de Janeiro), or "Hay un barrio llamado Copacabana en Río de Janeiro" (There is a neighborhood called Copacabana in Río de Janeiro ).

We can NOT say: "En Perú hay el Machu Pichu". We should say: "En Perú está el Machu Picchu" ( Machu Picchu is in Perú) or "Hay unas ruinas incas, muy turísticas, llamadas Las ruinas del Machu Picchu. (There are some Inca ruins, very touristic, called the ruins of Machu Picchu).

In past tense the conjugation of this Impersonal Verb is "HUBO" (Indefinite Preterite) and "HABÍA" (Imperfect Preterite). In both cases the literal translation in English is "There was/were", but their use is different in Spanish.

We use "Hubo" when we want speak about events in the past. For example:

Hubo una clase de hockey ayer. (There was a hockey class yesterday.)
Hubo un accidente en la Ruta 45. (There was an accident on Route 45.)
Hubo un debate en TV sobre las nuevas reglas del español. (There was a debate on TV about the new rules of Spanish.)

But, we use "Había" when describing something in past.

For example: "Hubo una fiesta el sábado. En la fiesta había muchas personas famosas, había comida y bebidas; también había 2 dj's y había luces de discoteca. Pero no había suficientes personas solteras". (There was a party on Saturday. At the party there were many famous people there was food and drinks, there were also 2 dj's and there were disco lights. but there were not enough single people.)

To master this and other complex areas of Spanish grammar, I strongly recommend that you invest in additional learning Spanish products such as one or more Spanish grammar books in the Practice Makes Perfect family of books available at online book stores. For increasing spoken fluency, I suggest that you get a copy of the Verbarrator which will help you easily and naturally conjugate verbs when speaking Spanish.

How To Use The Spanish Verb Haber As An Impersonal Verb

Esa

The Poetry of Stone Forest (With Introduction, in English and Spanish)

Prolog (or Introduction): High up in the Andes, of Peru, around 15,000-feet, 4310-meters, resides a city called: Cerro de Pasco, about five-hours from Huancayo, Peru, by bus, and considered the highest city in the world. Here in the high sierras is an area known as Huayllay, a sanctuary for the sacred stones, a forest of stones, a geological wonder of Peru, and mystery for the world. They are carved by the Hand of God into animals, humans, plants and all, via, Mother Nature. It is without question, one of Peru's most speculative areas, and one of the world's most ecological secret places.

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I have been to Peru, nine times, this last time; I've been in Peru for 18-months, writing on its culture, customs and traditions. I have ventured in every direction man can in Peru, and it is more wondrous and versatile than Egypt. Or for that matter, more so than the 60-countries I have thus far, gone to, and explored, and Cerro de Pasco is among the most cherished areas I have found in the world. The people are warm (or at least to me they were).

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Stone Forest is a National Habitat for the stone animals, and forest, and living creatures, with yellow rolling fields, and cows and alpacas all about; it also is a very cold area to be in, not as cold though as my home state of Minnesota, but cold all the same. Nonetheless, folks up in this part of the country seem not to care, and many have slightly rosy cheeks from the bitter winds and chill, yet they live here, and I suppose(like in Minnesota) one can ask why, and get a complicated answer, or oversimplified. And most of the time I think it would be because of one's familiarity, and the beauty of the location. As in Minnesota, or the Mantaro Valley of Peru, thus, the same holds true for Stone Forest.

These stone animals are two to four levels high, or twenty to forty-five feet high, except for Papa Bear, which is 90-feet high. There are some 4000-figures throughout this immense forest (which is 6815-hectares).It is the biggest stone forest in the world.

You almost sense you can jump up and grab a little of the hanging clouds overhead you are so high above everything else in the world. And for those adventurous folks, it is (by all means) a most inspiring gem for climbing, and created by none other than the one who created us.

And now for those folks who cannot make it to this Sanctuary, I will be most happy if you turn a few pages and visit Stone Forest with me! Have a great trip! D.L. Siluk

Spanish Version

Prólogo (o Introducción): Arriba en Los Andes de Perú, alrededor de 4310 metros sobre el nivel del mar, reside una ciudad llamada: Cerro de Pasco, cerca de cinco horas desde Huancayo, Perú, en autobús, y considerada la ciudad más alta en el mundo. Aquí en las altas sierras hay un área conocida como Huayllay, un santuario para las piedras sagradas, un bosque de piedras, una maravilla geológica de Perú, y misterio para el mundo. Ellas han sido talladas por la mano de Dios en animales, figuras humanas, plantas y mucho más, a través de la madre naturaleza. Es sin lugar a dudas, una de las áreas más especulativas de Perú, y uno de los lugares ecológicos más secretos en el mundo.

He estado en Perú nueve veces, esta última vez estoy en Perú por 18-meses, escribiendo sobre su cultura, costumbres y tradiciones. Me he aventurado en todas direcciones un hombre puede en Perú, y es más asombroso y versátil que Egipto. O en realidad, más que los 60 países en los que hasta ahora, estuve y exploré, y Cerro de Pasco está entre los lugares más apreciados que encontré en el mundo. La gente es muy acogedora (o al menos lo fueron conmigo).

El Bosque de Piedras es un Hábitat Natural para los animales de piedra, y bosque, y criaturas vivientes, con ondulados campos amarillos, y vacas y alpacas todo alrededor; es también un lugar muy frío para estar, aunque no tanto como en el estado donde nací y vivo en Estados Unidos, Minnesota, pero frío de todas maneras. No obstante, a la gente de esta parte del país parece no preocuparles, y muchos de ellos tienen mejillas rosadas por el viento helado y por el frío, aunque ellos viven allí, y supongo (como en Minnesota) podemos preguntar porqué, y obtener una respuesta complicada, o muy simplificada. Y la mayor parte del tiempo creo que sería por la familiaridad, y la belleza del lugar. Como en Minnesota, o en el Valle del Mantaro de Perú, así, la misma verdad se sostiene para el Bosque de Piedras.

Estos animales de piedra son de dos a cuatro pisos de altura, o es decir de seis a doce metros, excepto por el Papá Oso, que tiene treinta metros de altura. Hay como cuatro mil figuras a través de este bosque inmenso (que tiene 6815 hectáreas). Es el bosque de piedras más grande del mundo.

Tú casi sientes que puedes saltar y agarrar un poco de las nubes colgadas arriba, estás tan alto encima de todo en el mundo. Y para aquella gente aventurera, es (ciertamente) una gema muy inspiradora para escalar, y creada por ningún otro que el Ser que nos creo.

¡Y ahora para aquella gente que no puede ir a este Santuario, estaré muy feliz si volteas unas cuantas páginas y visitas conmigo el Bosque de Piedras! ¡Que tengas un buen viaje! D. L. Siluk

Part One

The Great Stone Bear

(Seven Poems)

1

Festival at Stone Forest

((9-6-2007, No: 1977) (Cerro de Pasco))

Amused I am, with a magnificent liberty,

Huayllay's city's festival has an assortment of colors.

In the open areas, on the bleachers, the stand,

the sun is beaming like an unstoppable storm,

as alpacas colorfully dressed, run like flying condors

down the street to join a race.

Smiles and laugher! People busy as bees!

Everyone's ready for something, warming hearts

boyfriends, girlfriends all dressed pleasantly with coats:

pale faces from the morning cold!

People thinking of something risky, not likely

that only this day might bring...

In the dusty-square there is music and flare;

dancing, singing! People drinking and dreaming,

a few drunk as skunks...!

The afternoon opens with races upon races

and if you do not participate, forever you may say

I was there, somewhere, but just waiting.

And on the road, along side the festival,

cars and taxies waiting, waiting,

to make fruits from their labors.

Some folks just hanging along the fence,

perhaps dreaming or hallucinating.

Many dressed in masks-- and traditional garb,

reliving the great flight of the imagination.

There are horses on the embankment

by the towering rocks, children and grownups

riding back and forth...some climbing hills,

some kissing, hugging, as if, on cloud-nine,

music and noise blaring all the time.

The festival is a mad, mad world

comic and dreamy with its happy inferno.

My head is rotating, revolving, spinning--

the noise never goes away,

like a crystal chandelier, my mind floats and stirs,

but I hang on, on, on, just a while longer...!

Spanish Version

Festival en el Bosque de Piedras

((6-Septiembre-2007, # 1977) (Cerro de Pasco))

Entretenido estoy, con una libertad magnífica,

el festival de la ciudad de Huayllay tiene una variedad de colores.

En las áreas abiertas, en las bancas, en los puestos,

el sol está radiando como una tormenta inevitable,

mientras las alpacas coloridamente vestidas,

corren como cóndores voladores,

abajo de la calle para unirse a la carrera.

¡Sonrisas y risas! ¡Gente ocupada como las abejas!

Todos están listos para algo, corazones acogedores

enamorados, enamoradas todos vestidos atractivamente con sacos:

¡caras pálidas por el frío de la mañana!

Gente pensando en algo arriesgado, muy probablemente

este único día podrá traer...

En la plaza polvorienta hay música y luces;

¡bailes, cantos! ¡Gente tomando y soñando,

unos cuantos ebrios como mofetas!

La tarde se abre con carreras sobre carreras

y si tú no participas, dirás por siempre

estuve allí, en algún sitio, pero sólo esperando.

Y en el camino, a lo largo del festival,

carros y taxis esperan, esperan,

para sacar frutos de sus labores.

Alguna gente sólo haciendo tiempo a lo largo de las rejas,

talvez soñando o alucinando.

Muchos vestidos con máscaras--y ropas tradicionales,

reviviendo el gran vuelo de la imaginación.

Hay caballos en los parapetos

por las altísimas rocas, niños y adultos

cabalgando de ida y vuelta...algunos escalando los cerros,

algunos besándose, abrazándose, como si, en las nubes,

música y bulla retumbando todo el tiempo.

El festival es loco, mundo loco

cómico y soñador con su infierno feliz.

¡Mi cabeza está girando, virando, dando vueltas--

la bulla nunca se detiene,

como un candelabro de cristal, mi mente flota y se mueve,

pero yo espero, espero, espero, sólo un rato más...!

2

The Birth of the Great Stone Bear

Here we are, all dressed in warm cloths

to honor the Great Bear!

Yes, it is so;

it is to honor this old stone bear,

born in the pre-twilight of human history.

Here--Stone Forest is open to yellow

grass meadows;

voices telling me that being alive

and a child of God,

we can rejoice at the carvings He created,

on top of the world, near Cerro de Pasco;

here in Stone Forest-- where the unimaginable

resides; who would believe it?

Out on this bare, yellow field,

the great stone body of a prehistoric bear

waits until early afternoon

to lower his shadows in the cool and rouged

earth...!

Note: Written seven hours after seeing the Great Stone Bear (Papa Oso); No: 1970 (9-3-2007) Dedicated to Mayor Tito Valle Ramirez (of Cerro de Pasco) for his assistance in helping me get to the site of the Bear; and so much more, without that assistance this book would not be possible.

Spanish Version

El Nacimiento del Gran Oso de Piedra

Aquí estamos, todos vestidos con ropas abrigadoras

¡para honrar al Gran Oso!

Si, es así;

es honrar a este viejo oso de piedra,

nacido antes del crepúsculo de la historia humana.

Aquí--aquí el Bosque de Piedras está abierto a

un prado de pasto amarillo

voces diciéndome que estando vivo

y siendo un hijo de Dios,

podemos regocijarnos de las esculturas que El ha creado,

sobre la cima del mundo, cerca a Cerro de Pasco;

aquí en el Bosque de Piedras--donde lo inimaginable

reside; ¿quién lo creería?

Fuera de este desnudo, campo Amarillo,

el grandioso cuerpo de piedra de una prehistórico oso

espera hasta la primera hora de la tarde

¡para bajar su sombra en la fresca y coloreada

tierra...!

Nota: Escrito después de siete horas de haber visto al Gran Oso de Piedra (Papá Oso). Dedicado al Alcalde de Cerro de Pasco Ing. Tito Valle Ramírez por su asistencia ayudándome a llegar al sitio donde está El Oso; y mucho más, sin esa ayuda este libro no hubiera sido posible.

# 1970 (3-Septiembre-2007)

3

Trout & Fish Bones
Pachamanca & Pancakes
(Huayllay Festival)

Beauty with mystery is rare

so few drink of this fountain;

but near, close to Cerro de Pasco

a freshly prepared event--

comes to life but once a year...:

the rare and mysterious Stone Forest Fair.

Here one can see: friends, drinking,

cultural foods, like: huge pancakes

soaked down with coffee or coke;

or delicious trout, if one cares to weed

through the endless bones--ah, yes,

yes, it is everywhere, trout, trout, trout!

And Pachamanca, a stack of food, packed

with: beef, pork, chicken;

beans, potatoes and sweet potatoes,

all in a hole in the hot ground

with stones that surround and cover

the food cooking quite well--!

And all about songs and dance--

and a breath of Stone Forest...at hand.

Between morning and night, one can hear

songs day long--to night late...! until,

until the watchman closes the gate--

and puts the decorative alpacas to sleep.

Note: Dedicated to Cesar Cruz Cordova, for his constant assistance while I was in and around Cerro de Pasco, he was like a brother insuring all went well and safely or me and my wife, during our three and a half day visit. No: 1972 (9-3-2007)

Spanish Version

Trucha y Huesos de Pescado
Pachamanca y Panqueques
(Festival de Huayllay)

Belleza con misterio es raro

muy pocos beben de esta fuente;

pero cercano, cerca de Cerro de Pasco

un reciente evento preparado--

cobra vida una vez al año...:

el raro y misterioso Festival del Bosque de Piedras.

¡Aquí podemos ver: amigos, bebidas,

comidas típicas, como: enormes panqueques

tomados con café o gaseosa;

o truchas deliciosas, si a uno le importa escarbar

a través de los huesos interminables--ah si,

si, están por todas partes, ¡trucha, trucha, trucha!

Y la pachamanca, una pila de comida, abarrotada

con carnes de: res, chancho, pollo;

habas, papas y camotes,

todos metidos en un hueco en la tierra caliente

con piedras que lo rodean y cubren

la comida cocinándolo muy bien--!

Y en todo alrededor canciones y bailes--

y un hálito del Bosque de Piedras...a la mano.

¡Entre la mañana y noche, se puede oír

canciones todo el día--hasta tarde en la noche...! hasta

hasta que el guachimán cierra la puerta--

y pone a las decorativas alpacas a dormir.

Nota: Dedicado a César Cruz Córdova, por su ayuda constante mientras estaba en Cerro de Pasco y alrededores, él fue como un hermano asegurándose que todo me vaya bien y sin incidentes a mi y mi esposa, durante nuestros tres días y medio de visita.

# 1972 (3-Septiembre-2007)

4

Roads, Fields and Stones
(In Pasco)

Riding in a car, in Huayllay

or, Stone Forest, you notice

many things:

telephone poles, one by one along

the old dirt roads;

in the fields, fences

and behind them, comes cows--

slowly their eyes leap out at you

--and past them, Papa Stone Bear

(ninety-feet tall);

and all about, the dark soaks into

the stone woods.

The sun drifts down, and the

stone forest lights up

(gray on black, stone trees, like

an army of nuns--all becoming one)!

In Huayllay, and on those stone trees

scattered one by one,

through the fields--

one can see weeds and brownish

stubble,

and watered down tracks; streams all

combined.

It is a pleasure to be riding,

and walking towards these stone animals--

And to see the sun in the fields, and

the stone trees more dignified

than ever; --stone figures,

(animals) all frozen in stone death...

And all the holes and ditches

along the road back to Cerro de Pasco:

full of private rain.

Note: No. 1973 (9-3-2007)

Spanish Version

Caminos, Campos y Piedras
(In Pasco)

Viajando en un carro, en Huayllay

o, el Bosque de Piedras, tú notas

muchas cosas:

postes de teléfonos, uno a uno a lo largo

de los antiguos caminos de tierra;

en los campos, rejas

y detrás de ellas, vienen las vacas--

lentamente sus ojos saltan hacia ti

--y pasando ellas, el Papá Oso de Piedra

(treinta metros de altura);

y en todo alrededor, la oscuridad se empapa dentro

del bosque de piedras.

El sol a la deriva baja, y el

bosque de piedras se enciende

(gris sobre negro, árboles de piedra, como

un ejército de monjas--¡todos se vuelven uno)!

En Huayllay, y sobre aquellos árboles de piedras

dispersos uno por uno,

a través de los campos--

se puede ver ichus y

rastrojo parduscos,

y caminos inclinados regados; riachuelos todos

combinados.

Es una satisfacción estar recorriendo,

y yendo hacia estos animales de piedras--

Y ver el sol en los campos, y

los árboles de piedra más distinguidos

que nunca; --figuras de piedras,

(animales) todos congelados en una muerte de piedra...

Y todos los huecos y zanjas

a lo largo del camino de regreso a Cerro de Pasco:

lleno de una lluvia propia.

Nota: # 1973 (3-Septiembre-2007)

5

Resting in Cerro de Pasco

We slept the past three nights, in

Cerro de Pasco, Peru:

a magnificent place, the

highest city in the world.

Miner country and alpaca country.

We slept in a nice pink tourist hotel.

Not far from the city is a wonder

and mystery for the world.

Here, everything is a bit slower.

Here, the folks still wear their

pre-Inca garb around the city,

and many of the houses are still adobe.

This mountain city, the eyes and head

of the world,

seems to look down the Sierras,

these dangerous Andes; and to them, time

is unaccountable.

Tomorrow we ride out and down

and through these high mountains.

So rich in minerals and air!

All day I have felt and sensed

I am full of love, and love this

city and its stone forest.

Someday I will come back, and enjoy

it again--

the intoxicating cool air where

the miners were born.

No: 1971 (9-3-2007)

Spanish Version

Descansando en Cerro de Pasco

Dormimos las pasadas tres noches, en

Cerro de Pasco, Perú:

un lugar magnífico, la

ciudad más alta en el mundo.

Nación de mineros, y nación de alpacas.

Dormimos en un bonito hotel de turistas rosado.

No muy lejos de la ciudad está una maravilla

y misterio para el mundo.

Aquí, todo es un poquito más lento.

Aquí, la gente todavía viste sus

ropas pre-incas alrededor de la ciudad,

y muchas de las casas aún son de adobe.

Esta ciudad andina, los ojos y cabeza

del mundo,

parece mirar abajo a las Sierras,

estos Andes peligrosos; y para ellos, el tiempo

es inexplicable.

Mañana recorreremos afuera y abajo

y a través de estas altas montañas.

¡Tan rico en minerales y aire!

Todo el día sentí y siento

Que estoy lleno de amor, y me gusta esta

ciudad y su Bosque de Piedras.

Algún día volveré, y la disfrutaré

de nuevo--

el vigorizante aire fresco donde

los mineros nacieron.

# 1971 (3-Septiembre-2007)

6

Up Early in Cerro de Pasco

I am up early. On television

the news leaves have fallen.

The sky's deep blue with white clouds

all spread out, thin to thick.

I hear some noise in the hallway

of this hotel...

I saw the light, first from the

side windows...(woke me)

The cold water from the faucet

fell into my hands--night-chilled!

I awake from a light sleep

like a horizon...slowly.

Over the new day, I think 'Coffee!'

The depth of the night has

disappeared from the puddles

on the ground--;

I look forward now in meeting the day.

Note: Written at 8:06 AM woke up an hour earlier. It is Tuesday at the Hotel Señorial. Was in Room No: 206; Rosa went to get coffee and a donut for me, she just returned, and quickly left again to see the Mayor, Tito Valley Ramirez, to let him knew we are leaving. No: 1974 (9-4-2007)

Spanish Version

Levantándose Temprano en Cerro de Pasco

Me levanté temprano. En la televisión

los trozos de noticias han caído.

El azul profundo del cielo con nubes blancas

todas dispersas, delgadas a gruesas.

Oí algo de ruido en el pasadizo

de este hotel...

Yo vi la luz, primero por el

lado de la ventana...(me despertó)

El agua fría del caño

cayó en mis manos--¡noche fría!

Estoy despierto de un sueño ligero

como un horizonte...lentamente.

Sobre el día nuevo, pienso "Café"

La profundidad de la noche ha

desaparecido de los charcos

de la tierra--;

Espero ahora en encontrar el día.

Nota: Escrito a las 8:06 a.m. Me desperté una hora antes. Es jueves y estoy en el Hotel Señorial. Estamos en la habitación 206, Rosa fue a comprar una donut para mí, ella justo volvió, y rápidamente se fue de nuevo a ver al Alcalde, Ing. Tito Valle Ramirez, para hacerle saber que estábamos partiendo.

# 1974 (4-Septiembre-2007)

7

The Dogs of San Juan

(A Quick Reflection)

The ancient mines and mountains

of Cerro de Pasco, slip into the city

(with the lake and quarry), as the

morning sun beams, guide packs of dogs

that roam from

yard to yard...

(funny, I don't see a cat!).

Written on the bus near Junin, leaving Cerro de Pasco. (9-4-2007) No: 1975; Reflections of the three days I was in the city, and watched the dogs roam in packs, squeezing through one fence after the other. Not a cat in site. Also, "Doris (and the Forgotten Bear) was written while on the bus (No: 1976), the same day.

Spanish Version

Los Perros de San Juan

(A Reflexión Rápida)

Las minas y montañas antiguas

de Cerro de Pasco, se deslizan en la ciudad

(con el lago y la cantera), mientras que los

rayos del sol de la mañana, guían a una cuadrilla de perros

que rondan de

patio a patio...

(gracioso, ¡no veo un gato!).

Escrito en el autobús cerca de Junín, alejándonos de Cerro de Pasco.
Reflexiones de los tres días en que estuve en la ciudad, y vi a los perros rondar en cuadrillas, atravesando una reja después de otra. No había un gato en el lugar (4-Septiembre-2007) # 1975.
También, "Doris (y el Oso Olvidado) fue escrito mientras estaba en el autobús. # 1976

8

Doris

(and the forgotten Bear)

Birds fly over it, hourly,

Doris' uncle and Shepard Aunt

see it quite often...

Kites from the hands of children

have even touched it--

and perhaps frogs, cows and

all sorts of living creatures have seen it,

but when Mayor Tito Valle asked

Doris to show me the bear,

She said, "Sure!" --not really

knowing what he was talking about.

--But she told me afterward:

"I figured I'd figure it out later,

but it was the first I had heard of the Bear!"

Notes: Oh I could make lots of notes on this, but I shall leave it alone for controversy, on the other hand, I am guilty of this also, many times while in the Army. But it all turned out quite well, and isn't life full of humor, if you look for it. No: 1976, dedicated to Doris Ticse Arteaga. (9-4-2007)

Spanish Version

Doris

(Y el Oso Olvidado)

Los pájaros vuelan sobre este, cada hora,

El tío de Doris y una tía pastora

lo ven muy frecuentemente...

Cometas de la mano de los niños

incluso lo han tocado--

y talvez, ranas, vacas y

toda clase de criaturas vivientes lo han visto,

pero cuando el alcalde Tito Valle le pidió

a Doris me mostrara el oso,

ella dijo "claro" -realmente

no sabiendo de qué él estaba hablando.

--Pero ella me contó después que dijo:

"Averiguaré, averiguaré esto más tarde,

Pero esta es la primera vez que escucho sobre El Oso"

Notas: Ah, podría hacer muchas notas sobre esto, pero lo dejaré esto en paz por controversia, por otro lado, soy responsable de esto también, muchas veces cuando estaba en el ejército. Pero todo resultó muy bien, y la vida ¿no está llena de humor?, si tú buscas esto.
# 1976 (4-Septiembre-2007) Dedicado a Doris Ticse Arteaga.

9

Stone Snail, over Blue

Now both of us

being here--one

alive, one stone

we sit still:

the wind

swirling

the wind

swirling...

(rain on its way):

the Great Stone Snail,

is the best part

of this side of the park--,

I touch it (want to hug it);

it tells me of its eminence.

I look about

so many figures

(stone statues)--

somehow balanced,

hanging by a thread,

in this stone house

with a blue roof.

Written 9-6-2006 ((No: 1978) (1:50 PM)) Dedicated to our three young female guides, Diana, Carol, and Noemi tha were most gracious

Spanish Version

Caracol de Piedra, sobre Azul

Ahora ambos de nosotros

Siendo cosas--uno

vivo, otro piedra

nos sentamos aquí:

el viento

girando

el viento

girando...

(la lluvia está viniendo):

el Gran Caracol de Piedra,

es la mejor parte

de esta parte del parque--,

lo toqué (quería abrazarlo);

esto me dice de su eminencia

Miro alrededor

tantas figuras

(estatuas de piedra)--aparentemente,

colgadas en el aire,

en esta casa de piedra

sobre un techo de azul.

Escrito el 6-Septiembre-2007 (#1978--1:50 p.m.) Dedicado a nuestras tres jóvenes guías de turismo: Diana, Carol y Noemí que fueron muy amables.

10

In the Fields of the Great Bear

((of, Stone Forest) (9-3-2007))

The eyes and cold shadows of the stones

(in, Stone Forest, high up in the sierras)

seep out into the fields of the Great Bear--.

Here, are stone walls, towering high

(like dreams stretched into the sky).

I could feel their cold shadows falling

--crossing the fields...!

They have no coats--just

smooth, sharp granite skin:

as they sank down, and around me,

engulfed me (and my wife),

akin to an executioner.

With great smooth blades

they observed, with their internal eyes

as I stood in their sacred fields

('...the Great Stone Bear--is over there,'

said our guide--pointing!)

I am warmed by the sun and pure air

(these stones cause ripples

in the sleeping soil--strange morning

it was).

The eyes and cold shadows of the

stones, seep out into the fields,

as if leaving a lonely harbor (their abode)

and my spirit moved in my body

(floating above content...).

The Poetry of Stone Forest (With Introduction, in English and Spanish)

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Juan Parra Del Riego's Biography (In English And Spanish)

ENGLISH VERSION

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Juan Parra del Riego was born on December 20, 1894 in the city of Huancayo, Peru; his parents were Domingo Parra Aubilá and Mercedes Rodríguez Gonzáles del Riego. Juan passed his childhood in Arequipa, studied at the College of the "American Independence," then with his family he moved to Cuzco (Peru), where he took up studies at the National College of Sciences and Art in the city.

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At this time, in the city of Cuzco at the college the poet to be, was awaken to his calling, and quickly demonstrated his skill not only in poetry but in football, which he would write about competently in future years.

Juan then moved to Lima with his family, where he lived his vocation, poetry, by pursuing the art and craft of verse writing; and at the early age of nineteen-years old was awarded his first Gold Medal at the First Floral Games organized by the Counsel
District of San Jose de Surco with his poem called, "Canto to Barranco."

His poetry was published in many of Peru's newspapers, and while visiting Trujillo, he became friends with Cesar Vallejo.

In 1916 at only 22- years of age, he made a trip in search of the "American and Universal Citizenship," visiting Chile where he met Gabriela Mistral, then he visited Argentina and Uruguay, where he was nourished with the era's literary movements.

During this time he embarked on a trip to Europe, traveling across Holland, Spain and France, into Paris, which dazzled him.

During most of these years, and travels his health remained marginal to manageable to intense.

In 1925 he met the lady poet Blanca Luz Brum with whom he married and had a son whom he named Eduardo.

Juan's health became very fragile but had a transmittable desire for living as one can see by reading many of his poems. In a short period of time his lungs gave out, damaged beyond repair, he was then taken to the Military Hospital in Montevideo, where on November 21, 1925 he died. The president of the Republic of the Uruguay, Jose Serrato, decreed a national holiday and set the Uruguayan flag at half mast. He was buried in the Cemetery of Buceo.

Note: information extracted from literature by Apolinario Mayta Inga, and Klim Kafra, all parts reedited by Dennis L. Siluk, and revised; translated from the Spanish to English and back into the Spanish by Rosa de Peñaloza de Siluk; as it has been prepared for a forth coming book.

SPANISH VERSION

BIOGRAFÍA DE JUAN PARRA DEL RIEGO

Juan Parra del Riego nació el 20 de diciembre de 1894 en la ciudad de Huancayo, Perú; sus padres fueron don Domingo Parra Aubilá y doña Mercedes Rodríguez Gonzáles del Riego. Juan pasó su niñez en Arequipa, estudió en el Colegio "Independencia Americana", luego con toda su familia se trasladó a Cuzco (Perú), donde estudió en el Colegio Nacional Colegio Nacional de Ciencias y Arte en esa ciudad.

En este tiempo, en la ciudad de Cuzco y en ese colegio el que iba a ser un poeta, fue despertando a ese llamado, y rápidamente demostraba su habilidad no sólo en la poesía sino en el fútbol, del que él escribiría competentemente en años futuros.

Juan se trasladó a Lima con su familia, donde vivió su vocación: la poesía, perseverando en el arte y oficio de los versos escritos; y a la temprana edad de diecinueve años fue premiado con su primera Medalla de Oro en los Primeros Juegos Florales organizado por el Concejo Distrital de San José de Surco con su poema llamado, "Canto a Barranco".

Sus poesías fueron publicadas en muchos periódicos de Perú, y mientras visitaba Trujillo entabló amistad con César Vallejo.

En 1916 con tan sólo veintidós años de edad, hizo un viaje en busca de la "Ciudadanía Americana y Universal" visitando Chile donde conoció a Gabriela Mistral, luego visitó Argentina y Uruguay, donde fue nutrido con el movimiento literario de esa época.

Durante este tiempo él se embarcó en un viaje a Europa, viajando a través de Holanda, España y Francia, dentro París, ciudad que lo deslumbra.

Durante la mayor parte de estos años, y viajes su salud permanecía marginal e iba deteriorándose.

En 1925 Juan conoció a la poetisa Blanca Luz Brum con quien contrajo matrimonio y tuvieron un hijo al que llamó Eduardo.

La salud de Juan se volvió muy frágil pero el tenía un deseo contagioso por vivir como uno puede ver leyendo sus muchos poemas. En corto tiempo sus pulmones se deterioraron, dañados al punto de no tener cura; él fue llevado al Hospital Militar en Montevideo, donde el 21 de noviembre de 1925 murió. El Presidente de la República de Uruguay, José Serrato, decretó duelo nacional y ordenó izar la bandera uruguaya a media asta. Fue enterrado en el Cementerio de Buceo.

Juan Parra Del Riego's Biography (In English And Spanish)

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How to Learn Spanish Slang and Secrets to Learning Spanish Vocabulary Words

Today we will talk about how to learn Spanish slang and some secrets to learning Spanish vocabulary words. The first word that I will give you isn't exactly a Latin American Spanish vocabulary slang word. It is a "Spanglish" word that I learned in New York City from Puerto Rican and Dominican friends. The word is "janguear."

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Janguear - to hang out

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Estamos jangueando en la esquina.
We are hanging out on the corner.

Me gusta janguear en esa dicoteca.
I like to hang-out in that club.

I don't expect you to ever use the verb "janguear." I just thought that it was an interesting word to know. And I also find it interesting how Spanish-speakers in the States will take a Spanish word and combine it with an English word and make a new word or a "Spanglish" word. By the way, in preparing this email I asked one of the Learning Spanish Like Crazy instructors from Mexico if she knew the meaning of "janguear" and she said that she never heard the word before. And as I expected, when I asked some friends here in Medellín, Colombia if they understood the meaning of "janguear," they also said that they have never heard the word before.

You should also know that if you are planning a trip to "la República Dominicana" don't expect anyone there to understand the verb "janguear," despite the fact that I just told you that I have heard my Dominican friends in Nueva York use the word. I suspect that my Dominican friends in Nueva York learned the word from Puerto Rican Spanish speakers in New York City. On the other hand, if you are planning a trip to Puerto Rico I can assure you that the "gente" (people) of Puerto Rico will know and may even use the verb "janguear."

Let me rephrase that. I can assure you that the "adolescentes" (young people) or "jovencitos" (young people) of Puerto Rico will know and may even use the verb "janguear." Why do I say that? Here in Medellín, Colombia, reggaeton music is very popular. And the singers or rappers of reggaeton music are usually Puerto Rican -- as opposed to Nuyoricans (New York City born Puerto Ricans), and in many of the reggaeton songs I have heard the recording artists use the word "janguear."

Keep in mind that since Puerto Rico is a U.S. territory, as opposed to an independent Caribbean/Latin American country, such as Cuba or "la República Dominicana" the language there is going to be heavily influenced by English. And Spanglish words are going to be a lot more common. Despite the popularity of reggaetón music in Medellín, Colombia, my "amigos" here said that they are not familiar with the word "janguear."

Keep in mind that one secret to learning Spanish vocabulary words is to review the words that you learn.

How to Learn Spanish Slang and Secrets to Learning Spanish Vocabulary Words

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Learn Conversational Spanish - Key Cool Phrases

Stepping out of the typical Spanish taught in conventional Spanish courses is something most students of Spanish are keen to perform as quickly as they can. We're going to make it easier to learn conversational Spanish by bringing a realistic classy finesse to your Spanish toolkit with these brilliant Spanish phrases to help you leave a favorable impression with the locals without a doubt.

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Okay, most conversations kick off with a greeting and many students of Spanish will mostly rely on Spanish expressions such as:

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¿Cómo está/s?, or ¿Qué tal? - How are you?

These are all right needless to say, but to make your greetings more polished, say these instead:

¿Cómo estamos? - How are we? Especially common!

¿Qué te cuentas? - How you doing?

¿Cómo va? - How's it going?

Even though these are in fact saying a similar thing as the first two, these informal expressions are more "warm" and realistic.

Here's a couple of slick Spanish phrases one might say to respond instead of the colorless "bien", "muy bien" or "todo bien".

Más o menos - More or less (You may in addition leave out the "s" at the
end and say "má o meno" so that you appear more "Spanishy"!)

Sin novedades - Nothing much taking place

Estoy contento/a con la vida - I'm happy with life

Vale, occasionally when you're talking in Spanish, you just cannot think of a word to explain something. This is certain to ensue as you learn conversational Spanish, it happens to me frequently and the following three cracking phrases will be particularly helpful:

Lo tenga en la punta de la lengua - It's on the end of my tongue

¿Cómo se llama esa cosa? - What's that thing called?

¿Cómo se llama ese chisme? - What's that gizmo called?

More desirable than saying gringo give-aways like ¿Qué significa? Without a doubt!

Saying goodbye to somebody is one more opportunity to make a winning impact by bidding farewell precisely as the locals do. Vale, as an alternative to employing regular Spanish expressions for instance: "Hasta pronto", "hasta luego" and "hasta la próxima", check out these:

Hasta ahora

Hasta otra

Hasta más ver

Hasta otra and hasta ahora are especially used often here in Catalunya, I'll come across all three each day, and you're going to hear each of them wherever you're traveling in Spain.

Finally, one more really excellent streetwise Spanish expression to introduce to your growing Spanish. Whenever you're saying good night (buenas noches) to someone add-on:

Que descanses - Rest well

You'll find it rarely said by non-native speakers and in addition to bringing-in a polished edge to your Spanish, it is going to earn you a great deal of kudos!

You now have a good range of very cool expressions to help you learn conversational Spanish by employing authentic expressions frequently used by native Spanish speakers. Bring them into your vocabulary and you will be a cut above from those cheeky gringos!

Hasta otra.

Learn Conversational Spanish - Key Cool Phrases

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"The Rose Room" - Short Story About the Stockyards in Minnesota (In English and Spanish)

Chick Evens went to work for the stockyards one summer in 1966, near the town-let of South Saint Paul, the summer was extremely hot, and you could bake an egg on the sidewalks.

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His mother worked at Swift's Meats (in the meatpacking department), the company, which he now came to be employed at, made a deep impression on Chick's mind and he never forgot the thoughts and experiences that came to him during those last months of that summer working at the stockyards inside a packing house (cutting up carcasses of hogs), and especially delivering animal waste to the Rose Room!

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The traditional puffing forth smoke, which attracted attention to its tall chimneys as they rumbled along and burnt up the remains of pigs, cows, sheep, and goats, slowly over miles of bones and animal waste, circulated the air, and drifted throughout the huge stockyards, second to the nation's largest in Chicago.

One could see and smell at any section, division or corner of the town-let this putrid smoke, from the stockyards, all the way down to the Mississippi River, some five-miles away, and even across the Robert Street Bridge, to the other side of the river, where resided St. Paul, proper, the inner city, the downtown area; that dark to light gray smoke, rising into the clear morning sky.

Where some of this smoke came from was a dim lit, small room through which an employee brought in stacks of animal throw away, desecrated meats, from throughout the stockyards. From these stacks could be seen glowing and pale pus from hams, torn hides, discolored skin and unusable bones and infected guts, and so forth, nothing to please an appetite.

There was no wind, or windows in this room-this room they called 'The Rose Room', just an iron round plate on the floor, heavy as a Cadillac car, it was opened by pressing a yellow button, and machinery lifted this tonnage door about three feet up...then it stopped as if a person might fall or jump into this inferno pit, and there was hell's fire. You could hear the crackling of the fire, feel the heat penetrating your pores, and smell the punishingly putrid stink therewithal, and near suffocating in the process: it all was close to gagging the lungs, to a point of collapsing.

The fire was equal to the most blazing spot in a forest fire, it grew along the sides of the pit when the iron door was opened, like snakes running up its sides to escape.

In the afternoons I went to what they called the Rose Room, opened up the door to the house of flames, it crackled and snapped under my feet, even the sole of my shoes got hot through the thick stone floor, the smell of this room was putrid, foul, sizzling. It made a man think about going back to school, it did me anyway, learn a real trade-it was a room I swear rented out by the devil or perhaps God Himself, to express where souls go to decay-the repentance abyss.

My mind captured such an image even before I set foot out of this room, the first time I brought in a wheelbarrow of animal waste-I remember I had little to say, looking into that abyss of flames, pouring my wheelbarrow of rotten animal carcasses, soft tissue, over the edge of the iron rounded door, watching the massive fire consume it even before it hit the bottom of the pot, boldly and freely.

The fatty tissue, he poured down, into the pit, became inflamed almost instantly. This was a house with only one window-the fire window. When he had poured the waste over the edge of the opening, the fire leaped back up at him, swept over the rim of the frame that held the iron door in place, it swept all the way to his feet, he jumped back, stood against the wall looking into the hungered fire, as if it was a living beast trying to harm him, and a voice said something, a voice to the side of him, by the door that was usually shut to the room, except if someone else was waiting to commence in the same traditional work he had just finished...

The Employee

Employee: Come on, come on! Let's get going here sunny, I don't have all day-give the rose a kiss and get the hell out of there so I can drop my load! (A laugh.)

Chick Evens: It almost got me!

Employee: It's a suicide escape! ((he declared shrewdly) (he comes to stand beside Evens)) It creeps in when you're half sleeping, or daydreaming on the job, stay alert in this room kid-now move on out of here, go around my backside, give me some room to maneuver my wheelbarrow.

Note: the stockyards in South St. Paul, created and built the city of South Saint Paul, establishing itself in between, 1885-1887, and built by Gustavus Franklin Swift Jr., and prior to him, his father. Prior to Swift's And Company, there was no city south of St. Paul, Minnesota. It was one of the largest stockyards in the world, and second only to Chicago in the United States. This story is dedicated to the Swift Family, who in their way contributed to the employment of so many people in some many areas of the United States, and especially, South Saint Paul, Minnesota.

Written 5-16-2009 ((No: 398) (SA/5ds))

Spanish Version

El Cuarto Rosa

((El Corral de Ganado de San Pablo Sur, Minnesota, 1966) (Una Historia de Chick Evens))

Chick Evens fue a trabajar para el corral de ganado un verano de 1966, cerca al pueblito de San Pablo Sur; el verano era tan caluroso que podrías cocinar un huevo en las veredas.

Su madre trabajaba en Swift's Meats (en el departamento de empaque de carnes), la compañía en la que ahora él había sido empleado, que formó una impresión profunda en la mente de Chick ya que él nunca se olvidaría de los pensamientos ni de las experiencias que él obtuvo trabajando en el corral, en la casa de empaques, durante los últimos meses de ese verano (cortando la carne de los cerdos muertos) y especialmente: ¡llevando los desechos de animales al Cuarto Rosa!

La tradicional nube de humo-que hacía que llamara la atención de sus chimeneas altas mientras éstas sonaban a lo largo y quemaban lentamente los restos de los cerdos, vacas, carneros y cabras, sobre miles de huesos y desperdicio de animal-hacía circular el aire y se iba a la deriva a través del corral inmenso, el segundo más grande en la nación después de Chicago.

Uno podía ver y oler en cualquier lugar del pueblito este humo putrefacto del corral, todo el camino abajo hacia el río Mississippi, aproximadamente a cinco millas de distancia e incluso cruzando el Puente Roberto, al otro lado del río donde residía la ciudad de San Pablo propiamente, el centro de la ciudad; aquel humo oscuro, ligeramente gris, levantándose en el cielo claro de la mañana.

Había una luz tenue de donde este humo venía, un cuarto pequeño donde un empleado traería, de todas partes del corral, montones de restos de animales para botarlos, carnes malogradas. Podía verse, en estas pilas, intensos y pálidos pus de los jamones, costados rasgados, piel descolorida, huesos inutilizables e intestinos infectados, etcétera, nada para complacer a un apetito.

No había ventanas ni corría viento en este cuarto-a este cuarto ellos lo llamaban "El Cuarto Rosa"-sólo un plato redondo de hierro en el piso, tan pesado como un carro Cadillac, éste se abría presionando un botón amarillo, y las máquinas levantarían este tonelaje de puerta, cerca de un metro de altura...luego éste se detendría como si una persona podría caerse o saltar dentro de esta fosa infernal; había un fuego de infierno. Tú podrías oír el sonido del fuego, sentir el calor penetrando tus poros, aparte de oler esa hediondez putrefacta y casi sofocante; en el proceso: todo esto estaba a punto de asfixiar a los pulmones, al punto de colapsar.

El fuego era igual al punto más ardiente en un incendio en la selva, éste crecía a lo largo de los lados de la fosa cuando la puerta de hierro se abría, como serpientes corriendo arriba a sus lados para escapar.

En las tardes iba a lo que ellos llamaban El Cuarto Rosa, abría la puerta de la casa de llamas, esta crujía y chasqueaba bajo mis pies, incluso la suela de mis zapatos se calentaban por el piso grueso de piedra, el olor de este cuarto era putrefacto, repugnante y sofocante. Esto hacía pensar a un hombre en volver al colegio, esto me hizo pensar de todas maneras, aprender un oficio real-este era un cuarto, lo juro, alquilado por el mismo diablo o talvez por Dios mismo, para decir a dónde van las almas a descomponerse-el abismo de arrepentimiento.

Mi mente capturó tal imagen incluso antes de poner un pie en este cuarto, la primera vez que traje una carretilla de desperdicio de animal-recuerdo que tuve poco que decir, mirando en el abismo de llamas, vaciando mi carretilla de carne muerta descompuesta y tejidos suaves sobre el borde de la puerta redonda de hierro, mirando al fuego masivo consumir esto antes que éstos tocaran el fondo del recipiente, audaz y libremente.

Los tejidos grasosos, que él tiraba en el hoyo, eran inflamados casi al instante. Esta era una casa con sólo una ventana-la ventana del fuego. Cuando él vertió los restos sobre el borde de la entrada, el fuego se extendió hacia él, barrió sobre el borde del marco que sostenía la puerta de hierro todo el camino hasta sus pies, él saltó hacia atrás, estuvo recostado en la pared mirando al hambriento fuego, como si éste fuera una fiera viva tratando de herirlo, y una voz dijo algo, una voz al costado de él, por la puerta que normalmente estaba cerrada, excepto si alguien más estuviera esperando para comenzar con el mismo trabajo tradicional que él acababa de terminar...

El Empleado

Empleado: ¡Vamos, vamos! Continuemos yendo, no tengo todo el día-dale un beso a la rosa y sal de aquí para que yo pueda vaciar mi carga (una risa).

Chick Evens: ¡Casi me alcanza!

Empleado: ¡Es un escape suicida! ((él dijo astutamente) (él vino a pararse detrás de Evens)) Este te alcanza cuando estás medio dormido, o soñando despierto en el trabajo, mantente alerto en este cuarto niño-ahora muévete de aquí, anda alrededor detrás de mi, dame más espacio para maniobrar mi carretilla.

Nota: Los corrales de ganados en el Sur de San Pablo, crearon y construyeron la ciudad de San Pablo Sur, estableciéndose ésta en el medio, entre 1885 y1887, construida por Gustavus Franklin Swift hijo, y antes que él por su padre. Antes de la Compañía Swift, no existía la ciudad de San Pablo Sur, en Minnesota. Este era uno de los más grandes corrales el mundo, el primero estaba en Chicago en Estados Unidos. Esta historia está dedicada a la familia Swift quienes, en su forma, contribuyeron a dar empleo a tanta gente en algunos lugares de los Estados Unidos, y especialmente, en el Sur de San Pablo, Minnesota.

Escrito el 16-Mayo-2009 ((No: 398) (SA/5ds))

"The Rose Room" - Short Story About the Stockyards in Minnesota (In English and Spanish)

Esa

The Book Story (In English and Spanish)

Lee Albert, he sat in the garden café, in Huancayo, Peru, at "Mia mama" and ate a bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich, washed it down with a cup of dark coffee, under a large umbrella, his Goddaughter, was there, Ximena, she had stopped to greet him as usual, after school. Above him the sky was turning a slight gray, it looked like rain, "What are you reading Godfather?" she asked.

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"The Children of Hurin," he said, adding, "By Tolkien, have you read it yet?"

Esa

"No," she replied.

"Would you like to?" he asked.

"Oh yes, absolutely," she responded.

How good it felt, he told himself, someone who wants to have a good read, like me, for here at last was life at its best, a light lunch under the sun, and a Goddaughter, who was sixteen-years old, pretty as a sparrow, and liking a good read.

He took another bite out of his BLT, told Mini the chef, "Boy this sandwich taste really good today," perhaps because he found someone who didn't think he was coco, about reading and writing, liking the reading part as much as he. There were stars in the air.

"I'll order you a copy for your birthday," he said, "but of course not a real First Edition, like this one, which cost 0-dollars, but one that cost , a Second Edition."

It didn't seem to her to be here or there with a first or second edition, just getting one was grand.

And on her birthday, he brought her the book, "I hope you will enjoy this read," he told her, and she gave him a warm smile, homespun, bit of real life in that smile and he felt comfortable.

In a like manner, Lee Albert, gave to another young female relative, by the name of Diane, whom was visiting him, with her father, the 0-dollar First Edition, copy of his book, "The Children of Hurin," after hearing she'd really like a copy to read, and she showed the deepest of joys in receiving it, and he felt good, and that it was splendid that she also liked reading the book, or just reading in particular, like Ximena. He felt like they were three peas in a pod, they were, like to like.

And she was the same age as Ximena, and they were both good friends. He got to thinking, perhaps they would share notes on the book, and so he went out and bought a third copy, a Signed First Edition, 0-dollars for himself.

And meanwhile, he stretched out in his home and reread the book, enjoying the second reading even more so than the first time, wondering how his two young pretty nieces were doing with their copies, and maybe they all could share a nice conversation or exploration into the characters, theme or plot of the book.

He looked at the full-lengthy pictures in the book also, stared at them, examined them, he loved the art work.

Six-months had now passed in which he felt they had both, or he had expected both to have had read the book in its entirety, and wanted their opinions on it.

He met with Ximena one day, and he had asked if she enjoyed the story, and she had said, "No I didn't read it fully it's sitting in my room on a shelf, but I plan on getting to it, and reading the rest."

"Oh," he said, "How much did you read?"

"About twenty-pages," she commented.

"Oh," he said again, and rolled up his eyes, and felt kind of empty, asking himself, 'Twenty-pages, is like climbing up the first step in a ladder and standing still. She likes the cover of the book more than the content perchance, or perhaps she just doesn't enjoy reading for reading sake, which's to know. Yet I had asked her, perhaps she was just being polite. What a miscalculation.'

Then he met up with Diane, figuring, she'd most likely have read it, but now he had his doubts, and he asked her point blank, "Did you enjoy the book?"

She put her head down, and said in a shy way: "No...ooo, sorry I didn't read it yet... (actually she hadn't even started reading it yet)" she looked so bad having to say she had not read it, he felt guilty for asking her in the first place. And again he rolled up his eyebrows, trying to remember when he was young, and what he had done when someone had given him a book to read, and all he could remember was, 'Nobody ever offered him a book.'

3-12-2009. Dedicated to Ximena and Diane o/ds FF

Versión en Español

La Historia del Libro

Por Dr. Dennis L. Siluk

Lee Albert, estaba sentado debajo de una sombrilla grande, en el café jardín "La Mía Mamma" en Huancayo, Perú, y comía su sándwich de tocino, lechuga y tomate, pasándolo con una taza de café bien cargado; su ahijada Ximena estaba allí, ella se había detenido a saludarlo como usualmente lo hacía después de salir del colegio. Arriba de él el cielo se estaba volviendo ligeramente gris, parecía que iba a llover.

¿Qué estás leyendo padrino? Ella le preguntó.

"Los Hijos de Hurin" él contestó, añadiendo, "por Tolkien, ¿Lo has leído ya?"
"No" ella contestó.
"¿Te gustaría leerlo?" él preguntó.
"Oh, sí, absolutamente" ella contestó.

Qué bien se siente, él se dijo asimismo, alguien que quiere tener una buena lectura, como yo; por fin acá la vida estaba en lo mejor: un almuerzo ligero debajo del sol y una ahijada, quien tenía dieciséis años, tan bonita como un gorrión y gustándole una buena lectura.

Él mordió otro trozo de su BLT sándwich y le dijo a Mini, la chef, "¡cielos! este sándwich sabe muy bien hoy día!" talvez porque él encontró alguien que no pensaba que él era un "cuco" en lectura y escritura, alguien a quien le gustaba la lectura tanto como a él. Había estrellas en el aire.

"Voy a comprar una copia para ti por tu cumpleaños" él le dijo, "pero por supuesto no una primera edición en original, como éste, que me costó $ 140 dólares, sino uno que cuesta $ 40 dólares, una segunda edición".

Esto no pareció importarle mucho a Ximena, le daba lo mismo tener una primera edición o una segunda edición, sólo el hecho de tener uno ya era magnífico.

Y en el día de su cumpleaños, él le trajo a ella el libro, "espero que lo disfrutes leyendo" le dijo a ella, y ella le sonrió grata y sencillamente, un trozo de verdadera vida había en esa sonrisa y él se sintió cómodo.

De la misma manera, Lee Albert, le dio a Dayanne, otra joven pariente que estaba visitándolo junto con su padre, el libro de $ 140 dólares, el original primera edición de "Los Hijos de Hurin" después de haber oído que a ella realmente le gustaría tener una copia para leerlo; y ella demostró la más profunda de las dichas al recibir éste; y él se sintió bien, y sintió que era espléndido de que a ella también le gustara leer el libro, o sólo leer en particular, como a Ximena. Él sintió que ellos eran como tres gotas de agua, ellos eran parecidos.

Y Dayanne era de la edad de Ximena, y ambas eran muy buenas amigas. Él llegó a pensar, que talvez ellas compartirían algunas anotaciones sobre el libro; y por eso él fue y compró una tercera copia del mismo libro para él, una primera edición con la firma del autor que le costó $ 460 dólares.

Y mientras tanto, él se estiró en su casa y releyó el libro, disfrutando leerlo por segunda vez aun más que en la primera vez, preguntándose cómo les estaría yendo a sus dos jóvenes y bonitas sobrinas con la lectura de sus libros, y que talvez todos ellos podrían compartir una conversación agradable o la exploración de los personajes, el tema o el argumento del libro.

Él revisó los dibujos en el libro también, mirándolos fijamente, examinándolos, a él le gustaba los trabajos artísticos.

Seis meses ya habían pasado, en el que él sintió que ellas, o esperaba que ellas ya hubieran terminado de leer sus libros en su totalidad y quería su opinión sobre éste.

Un día él se encontró con Ximena y le preguntó si ella había disfrutado la lectura del libro, y ella dijo, "No, no lo he leído totalmente, lo tengo en el estante de mi dormitorio, pero tengo planeado en llegar a esto, y terminar de leer el resto"

"Ah, él dijo, ¿cuánto has leído?

"Cerca de veinte páginas" ella comentó.

"Ah", el dijo de nuevo, y puso sus ojos en blanco, y sintió como un vacío, diciéndose a sí mismo, "Veinte páginas, es como subir el primer peldaño de la escalera y quedarse inmóvil. A ella le gusta la pasta del libro más que el contenido posiblemente, o talvez ella no disfruta la lectura por amor a la lectura. Pero le pregunté. Talvez ella sólo estaba siendo cortés, ¡Qué error!"

Luego él se encontró con Dayanne, imaginando que ella muy probablemente ya había leído el libro, pero ahora él tenía sus dudas, y le preguntó sin rodeos, "¿Disfrutaste del libro?"

Ella bajó la cabeza y dijo en forma tímida "no... oo... lo siento, no lo he leído todavía..." (En realidad ella incluso no había empezado a leerlo todavía) Ella parecía sentirse tan mal al decir que no había leído el libro todavía, pero él se sintió culpable por haberle preguntado en primer lugar. Y de nuevo el puso sus ojos en blanco, movió sus cejas, tratando de recordar cuando era joven y qué hubiera hecho él si alguien le hubiera regalado un libro para leer, y todo lo que él pudo recordar era: "nunca nadie le había ofrecido un libro".

Escrito el 12 de marzo del 2009. Dedicado a Ximena y Diane.

The Book Story (In English and Spanish)

Esa