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From February deserts in Santiago and other herbs or just a story

just happened out of the parking lot. As always, left the car, took his things and went down the elevator. As usual, came down from the sixth floor of the car, carrying her purse, your lunch and notebook. It was a routine day overwhelming.

way out, his eyes met the person who was entering the compound. It was a matter of seconds. He suddenly spoke and she stopped and turned. He looked intently looking for something in his memory and suddenly said: "Sorry but ... you know." She also delved into his memories and recalled.

had spent thirty-four years. They were young together for an ideal. Their names were different. When or how it happened and did not remember, but their mouths joined in a deep kiss that passed all boundaries. Used to meet in different places, Lenin Hills being the favorite, leaning against a birch tree, their mouths were and over again. All the passion and desire is manifested in those kisses.

She was young, inexperienced and the greatest pleasure he knew her body were her kisses. Surely, he well understood and therefore never broke the spell. Life took them in different ways. Never knew anything about it or even what his real name.

Yes, of course we know it did not recognize you, "she said. As the words flowed, his mind went that time images of youth. Froze conversation. Him, saying he had to go to ground, and she, carrying her heavy notebook, but none did hint to end the magic of the game. She invited him to his office for coffee. However it was late, he could not and did not want to refuse and continued talking without looking away from each other. They talked about their jobs, countries where they had passed, the children and, in passing, he mentioned that he had separated and she told the same to him. Time was, the conversation flowed and their eyes were still tied. At one point he returned to reality and said I have to go. Yes, repondió it, we have to work.

During the day she repeatedly reminded the meeting in the morning, but above all his mind rewound 34 years. There came a time after which he could not concentrate more and spread the work stopped, so he decided to leave earlier than usual and continue working at home.

closed the office. He walked slowly to the parking lot while he reviewed the events of that morning. Was that when I looked up and their eyes met again, he went out and she came. Smiled. Twice in one day after 34 years was a lot. They knew they both had the vehicle in the same place. The words came back to sprout, but at one point she said: "I'm leaving. We talk. " Hurry, as if he had something urgent to do, went to the elevator. Do not remember whether he had given his phone, at any rate he knew where his office.

Perhaps he would look for or maybe it would take many years before they met again. The first time they met she was too young, and the next two might be too old ...

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of avocados, violins, revolutions and other herbs or just from Moscow to the Elqui Valley.

must have been late February, early March 1974, walking the streets of Miraflores, Lima, with our sorrows and pains in backpack. Suddenly my father greeted with affection and emotion to the actor Anibal Reyna. A very beautiful woman and look sweet with him, was Eliana. After a short conversation she learns that we are on the eve of traveling to Moscow, Soviet Union, and says her son Joaquin studied violin there. The truth that we did not have very clear about our destination, only that we were moving the Vatican from the Communists. A sweet and simple look motherly care I received, it was impossible to say no. Her son was very fond of avocados, so I got that treasure a couple of avocados and Cutex for Russian girlfriend.

Avocados not ever let go, they were always with me -At least if it was a direct trip, but no, it was through Amsterdam, where the two days that we take advantage of knowing the home of Anne Frank, to the traditional boat trip and of course "window shopping."

Finally, we reached our destination and of course the first thing I did was try to locate the recipient of such a valuable cargo. I must admit that only my naivete made me devoted to the "smuggling" of avocados, but on the other hand I recognize that it again. Came a deep friendship that has transcended geography, flats and social revolutions and interiors.

One Sunday, in full underground in the 80's, I went to buy day and suddenly my eyes fell on a charge. I was trapped by its cover: the Elqui valley bottom and a young blond white robe, long hair, her blue eyes looking at eternity. I was interested in political news, but I could not concentrate on seeing the headlines of other newspapers. I kept thinking of the picture reminded me so much to my friend Joachim, but the Juaco wore short hair, dressed formally and on the other hand, I did it thousands of miles of our chili. Curiosity finally broke down and bought the newspaper (one of the few times I've bought LUN). I got to where I was living, eager to read the supplement, as if I was not hallucinating was my friend, the avocado, the violin, the young socialist Moscow. I devoured the article, I learned of his new philosophy of life and most importantly, in the coming days would give a concert at the Teatro Roberto Bravo East. In the room, looked at the audience and I felt distant from that world. It was a beautiful concert, and end the deep embrace the reunion of two friends who have not seen for years. He took my hand and said, "Come on, now you run away so easily." I left grained rice. It was a meeting of friends after the concert. I remember they were Roberto Bravo, Sonia Viveros, Eduardo Yanez and many most people did not know. I have not clear when I felt more in pens outside, at the meeting or at the concert.

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time stopped. It had been many things since our last meeting. I, with my way of seeing life as Orthodox, inflexible and intolerant of anything that moved away from my ideas, looking for my friend and colleague of so many days, in my stupidity I refrained and asked, "What happened? "His blue eyes locked on mine and a slow and solemn tone said:" First, I took whiskey, then vodka, and now ... I drink water. " He smiled and his face brightened.

, 84 long months after the asylum at the Embassy of Costa Rica (it is for another story) finally announced that the scheme gave me the pass. Had left the inmates of the Apostolic Nuncio and about a month I was the only asylum in Chile, in a time where many were also slowly returning to the country. Hours before I got out of the embassy, \u200b\u200bwhere he was waiting to leave for the new exile, opening a door and enter my friend Joakim, his eternal smile and the sea of \u200b\u200bsweetness. Units Nations had managed to let him see me and brought me some chocolates and a gift dollars for the trip. But above all, I had something much more valuable and long lasting: a deep hug and transmitting all the energy needed to face this new stage.

would be many years before we returned to meet again. It would be in Chile, in Santiago, at the restaurant El Huerto. It was the first government of the Concertación. His life went from the Elqui Valley and the U.S.. He was a composer of international renown. ECLAC endorsed its hymn of peace. For the first time, I noticed a tinge of sadness in his eyes. I mentioned it and to understand their response had to spend about 18 years. He said: "I feel trapped, caged birds must feel captive." To me it was being freer than he had known, who had broken the convention, and channeled his art according to their feelings, not what was expected of him. Therefore, it was hard to understand this answer and only now when I write these notes in one of their cabins Puclaro, in Valle del Elqui understand.

His eyes no longer has that tinge of sadness. Quite the contrary, it is full: time lag between chords, lyrics and flats that give way to beautiful compositions. On Saturdays at 20 hrs., With the natural scenery Puclaro, generously sharing the beauty of his compositions, mixing violin, ocarina, piano, with an audience enbelesado, penetrating into the secrets the lake and the mysteries of the starry sky.

That's my friend Joakim Bello, the most beautiful of the beautiful. How to catch a bit of courage, daring and out of the pack anything unnecessary, we do not like, annoying and, in many cases we suffer? How to maintain the essence when one must live among cement, fighting routine and trying to live day to day?