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.
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.
Under a cherry
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 ConcertaciĆ³n. 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?
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 ConcertaciĆ³n. 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?
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