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Victor H. Acuna
For many years I had been trying to write this little book. The ideas, the visions of what I wanted to mold in words, boiled, circulated in my mind, struggling to come out, with a desire to express...voir plusFor many years I had been trying to write this little book. The ideas, the visions of what I wanted to mold in words, boiled, circulated in my mind, struggling to come out, with a desire to express it. And I retained them. I neglectfully continually relegate them more and more inside myself. That was for a long time, for decades. I can justify in part my leniency, with the realization that I am not a writer, that I don’t have a proper knowledge of the Spanish grammar, that whatever I write would come out foolish, without syntax, full of errors. No, I told myself “you do not have the capacity to star such a work”.
In that way I let the time to pass, with the result that a lot of what I would had written at the proper moment had disappeared; many names, many characters, many places have faded out, or are up to a point to leave my memory. So, before that happens, and also to give myself a satisfaction, here I am, in front of my little computer, with the purpose of typing this tale before the ideas are lost completely. And what do you think of it? had occurred to me the strange idea of doing it at my 84 years of age!! Ja.. ja..Well, let see how far I’ll go.
Let me clarify something: this is a real story. This narration is what in reality happened many years ago, by 1939, when I was a boy of 12 years of age, in a little town perched up on the Ecuadorian mountains, where I grew up. My beloved Alausi. To put it properly, this is the relate of the moments we lived in that adorable place every single year in the festivities of Saint Paul and Saint Peter, the patrons of the city, in the month of June. The characters I mention are real, they shared together with me the emotions and experiences of those days; many of them are already dead, also, I don’t remember the names of others. It is possible that this tale is somehow dramatized, but it is only to put on it a little more effect. Also, if this little book is read by some alauseño (somebody born in Alausi) or a descendant of one of my actors in this tale, and finds an omission or error in what I had written, I ask the person to excuse me; nothing I wrote is in bad faith. Simply, this is an old guy putting in words his remembrances. I had waited a long time to do it; I only hoped to finish the task.voir moins
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