Children of the Kolla

José Portugal Catacora

In this publication, the stories of José Portugal Catacora are gathered.
Children of Kollao, published in 1937. This is the first work published by the
author, who until then had written articles in the first "Bulletin" of the
Normal School attached to San Carlos College (1929) and in the magazine 'El
Andean Educator” (Ayaviri, 1932-1934). The work contains 16 narratives about
children, some of them inspired by the author's childhood and others collected from
his experience as a teacher. In its first and only edition of 1937, the book
it was prolonged by Emilio Vásquez and illustrated with woodcuts by Joaquín
Chávez, Mateo Jaika, Fernando Manrique, Florentino Sosa, Roberto Valencia
Luis Berríos and Francisco Camacho.
For a second edition, which was never published, the author wrote in the
the presentation that the essential purpose of the work was to denounce injustices
that were committed against children. In that sense, the author points out that "our
the book has been classified among those of children's literature and that is why some of
their chapters circulate in selections dedicated to children like the one that
our unforgettable Sebastián Salazar... but the stories it contains do not
they were written for the child, but to defend him. If the experts accepted it,
we can call pedagogical tales the school dramas that form the
pages of Children of Kollao.
After this first publication, Portugal Catacora publishes the Series 'Readings'
for Children" composed of six booklets, followed by the books "The School
"Andina del Porvenir" (1945), "Organization of the New Rural School (1946) and
Language Psychopedagogy
Resuming his literary vein, he published in 1953 'Puno: Land of Legend', a work
gathers 11 legends, nine of which refer to the provinces of Puno and
the other two to the origin of Lake Titicaca and the Legend of Maco Capac and Mama
Ocllo. Four of the legends are the same as those in the 'Series of
Reading for Children.
At the presentation of the book, José Portugal Catacora clearly explained the
meaning of this publication: "its pages have been written with some of
tradition with a lot of legend and a bit of literary fiction. If it appears in them
Folklore or history interests us more than these formal aspects, the function
emotional, educational, that must fulfill the legend about the new ones
generations... It is necessary to put the wonderful things in the hands of our childhood

and the immense stirrings of our glorious past, to sow in your

heart and in his brain the love for the native lands as the foundation of the
Love for the homeland. Such is the essential purpose of this book.
In its 1953 edition, 'Puno: Land of Legend' is prefaced by Alfredo
Macedo Arguedas and closed with a colophon by Mario Franco Hinojosa.
Each of the eleven legends is preceded by annotations by the
writers Emilio Vásquez, Julián Palacios, Daniel Espezua, Fernando Tapia
Alberto Cuentas Zavala, Lizandro Luna, Francisco Chukiwanca Ayulo, Vicente
Mendoza, José Luis Mercado and Benjamín Mercado. Vladimiro Bermejo is
charged with a critical judgment written on the book's flaps.
Children of Kollaos
THE DEVIL OF THE OUTSKIRTS
When will the pedagogy based on the three laws return?
historical of our Inca Empire: Do not lie! Do not steal! Do not
Wow! (1). JULIAN PALACIOS RIOS.
I
—Ananay...!—sighed poor Mrs. Adriana, straightening her hunched back.
back. It was midnight. His eyes were closing, exhausted from the
dream and the needle was getting slower and slower. I couldn't finish the buttonholes of

the shirt, which I had to deliver very early the next day.
The wax candle, plugged into a porcelain-coated iron jar and placed on
a rickety little table barely illuminated the seam, as if it too
I was tired of shining during those hours of the night when everything
the small town was sleeping.

Two little ones, under six years old, were peacefully sleeping on a
bed made of alcohol crates, with rustic dekesanas mattress (2) i
thick blankets the color of grime / a damaged sewing machine, a
leather flask, a clay brazier with the charcoal extinguished and some pots
rags completed the furnishings of that miserable room: dirt floor,
bare walls and an uncovered sky to the smoked straw ceiling.
That night coincided with the third anniversary of Don Pascual's death.
husband of Mrs. Adriana. In that same room, then more decent,
he had watched over the inert body of poor Don Pascual Rodríguez, dead
drowned while crossing a river loaded with snowmelt water, heading to the estate
where he worked as a butler. He had worked on that estate, in the service of Mr.
Angelino Cutimbo, the wealthy mayor of the town, for more than twenty
years, the best part of his life. But upon dying, he left behind only memories, the
painful emotion of her tragic disappearance and a mother nearly aged,
three offspring without bread.

However, that pain had largely faded from the mind of

Mrs. Adriana. Now she thought - and she thought with hope to improve her luck.
—in their son Rosendo, who was already nearing 14 springs and would soon arrive from
the provincial capital, bringing the good news of having successfully completed her
last year of school. She was sure of it, nothing mattered to her that the snow
the suffering will whiten her maternal head, prematurely aged; nor
that his face, lined with tears, would wrinkle like the folds of
the ancient Andes, to the toasting heat of the estuary fire, the only
companion of his tiring nights, if he had his little Rosendo, who with his
complete primary education, soon would occupy good positions for
to support them, her and her little siblings. She felt proud of having educated him.
until he finishes his primary studies, I was right; because none
mother would have held her son at school, under the same conditions as
she. This holy pride and that rightful hope filled her with relief and
they dissipated their sorrows. The gray, lonely, and exhausting evenings went by.
painfully clinging to the endless cart of time by that miserable one
little room
II
At noon the next day, when Mrs. Adriana was picking up her sewing again,
after satisfying the appetite of their little ones with two plates of food,
(3) the creaking of a car that stopped very close to the house was heard. A few
Minutes later, a jubilant alga-rabia of the little ones announced the
presence of Rosendo.
I was already saying that at any moment you were going to surprise us. They were telling me that.

announcing the little sparrows, chirping for days with their eyes turned towards
the city
The mother expressed hurriedly.
Yes, baby. I would have come earlier if it hadn't been so delayed.
closure.
And how have you been able to travel by car?

Well, honey, the driver knows me because I often help him.

wash your car.
Well, there it is. It's good to get to know everyone, son. I was bringing it up after observing.

that the boy brought nothing but a small package of books, he asked:
And how come, haven’t you brought your things?

No, mamacita. Mr. Nemesio said that we still owed him ten soles.
So, have you been suspicious?
Yes, sweetheart.
Well, you see. That’s how ungrateful people are. When your father was alive,
How many favors have we done for him? Now that he sees us poor, he even distrusts us.
My God! In the end, Providence must want us to obtain those ten suns.
to pay that ungrateful
Yes, sweetheart,
discovering her little package, she was giving some toys to her little siblings
dishes, brought from the city.
—And how did you do in your exams?—the mother asked eagerly.
—Good, just fine, sweetheart. They gave me a diploma. My teacher also...
he gave a separate certificate because he cared for me a lot. The other certificate says
it costs five soles,” he added, showing his diploma. In the tender eyes of
Mrs. Adriana shone with two tears of deep satisfaction. In that cardboard,
that showed the Peruvian shield painted in bright colors, the mother saw
naive and loving, the Aeration of her hopes. She embraced with intense affection
his son sealed his forehead with a silent kiss: a mother's kiss, a pure kiss
revitalizing like the water from the spring wells.
After those minutes of joyful emotion, Doña Adriana served for Rosendo
a plate of peske, telling him:
—Come, my son, come; you haven't tried this in a year. In the city
People were ashamed to eat it.
Those holidays were very different for Rosendo compared to the previous ones.
Although his childhood had not been exhausted, the miserable situation of his family,
that hammered his mind day and night, had put an end to his games.
If before he enjoyed promising his beloved mother to attend the coming year with
greater success than the previous one, and the hope of fulfilling this promise made that
he will forget the sad reality in which his helpless home was struggling, today
I had no promise to make, nor any hope to alleviate my
cruel hours. He spent hours and hours in vain contemplating his diploma of
honor.
Two months of vacation passed and the problem remained enigmatic,
uncertain, without solution.

What to do?

IV
One Sunday, upon returning from Mass with unusual delay, Mrs. Adriana called
Rosendo said to him:
I have met with Mr. Pacheco, your previous teacher, and he told me that
there are vacant scholarships for the School of Arts and Crafts in Lima, and you can go
to study at the government's expense.
A small light of hope shone in the contemplative mind of Rosendo,
But soon it overcast. How to leave his mother? Under whose protection? No!
He would not go anywhere.
How do you want me to abandon you, sweetheart? - responded Rosendo,
thoughtful.
No, son. You must not abandon me. Perhaps your luck lies in what your...
master. Maybe it was your good star that shone brightly
glows this morning, when I woke up early. They say that the day
in what brings us the good, shine with bright flashes our star. You have
What to accept, little Rosendo. From there you will return a man, with a profession.

In the meantime, somehow, we will be here.

No, sweet lady. I can't leave you anymore. You suffer a lot. Alone. I must
to work in some way.
You must not disobey me, little Rosendo, because then you would be a bad son.
On Monday we have to travel to the city. We will leave the boys at the
Mrs. Fortunata. She is very good.
Rosendo prudently fell silent. He didn't want to upset your mother by arguing with her any further.

reasons.
V
Mrs. Adriana, to face her new sacrifice, headed to the house of Don
Angelino, whose service her husband died, to offer him for sale the last one.
piece of land that was left to him. After moving him with his painful
trances, he only managed to tear away from the habitual greed of that gentleman
without entrails, thirty pesos; more or less half the effective value of the land.
On the dawn of Monday, before the town stirred from its slumber
dream, Mrs. Adriana and her son set out for the capital. Gently
bathed by the rays of the rising sun and nursing the sweet breeze of the lake
legendary she walked, conforming and calm, encouraged by that saint
resignation that is only characteristic of mothers, and he, sadly reflective, with the
soul twisted with pain, from the insistent sacrifice of her mother. I wrapped in the
dust of the road arrived in the city.
Supplications here and tears there, they finally managed to get the file.

Three days later, the admission exams were held for more than thirty.
applicants for four scholarships.

While Rosendo was taking his exam, a candle burned at the altar of each church.
A thousand prayers flowed from the lips of Doña Adriana, rising to the heavens.
with fervent supplicatory anointing.
The tests ended and Rosendo was not among the favored.
Oh my God! - sobbed poor Mrs. Adriana.
If I have responded better than those who have been approved, he stammered.
Rosendo, tormented more by his mother's crying than by the failure of the
exam.
The mother was crying.
VI
The next day, Doña Adriana and her son's footsteps returned along the path to
a bunch of people
—Me emplearé de escribiente en un juzgado— decía Rosendo con ansias de
to console his troubled mother.
Yes, my son, yes. God does not want us to lack our daily bread.
mother, casting into the windy, dusty pampa a resignation made
sigh, perhaps to cast away in that manner the failure of his last sacrifice,
A car passed by from time to time, and - why shouldn't we have it,
at least a horse?—thought Rosendo, contemplating with bitterness the
sweaty face of his loving mother.
 VII
Once in the village, they invoked the favor of Mr. Oquendo, the first Judge of
Peace, so that Rosendo could employ him as a scribe.
Mr. Oquendo subjected him to a test and upon reviewing the written document, he exclaimed

scandalized
Ugh! You have terrible handwriting and awful spelling. If you have the time
unemployed, dedicate yourself to writing well, and then you can come back
work. For now, there is nothing for you to do; for notifications?, you are
still very small; to sign as a witness? even less so, because you don't have
the guaranteed signature. How many years do you have left for that!

This same answer was given to him in the other public offices. And in vain he...
the painful tears of Mrs. Adriana were falling.

VIII
One day, tired of searching for a job, —a job to which to dedicate his education.
primary,— Rosendo decided to become a shoemaker's apprentice.
He went to the only shoe store in the town, Leucacho's shoe store, the
little drunk, without his mother noticing, he began to learn that trade.
Several days passed and Mrs. Adriana noticed that her son only showed up at
to take the food. She interrogated him, but Rosendo always apologized.
Those constant absences intrigued her, and she tried to follow in his footsteps.
One day he found him pounding leather and sweating profusely in the shoemaker's shop.

Leucacho. With tears in his eyes, he hugged his son, while his lips
they protested bitterly:
My shoemaker son! Was this why I made you study so much?
IX
The year passed and in the last months he barely managed to earn a daily real.
learner's newspaper, indigenous chacrero newspaper.
But that miserable pay was not enough to finish the night work.
of an almost aging mother, not even to satisfy the hunger of her two
little brothers.
Rosendo knew that he would never earn enough to satisfy his
longings: to free his own from misery; however, he worked with all the
forces that his spring energy allowed him. There was the life of Leucacho,
reduced to eloquent penury, like the most authentic portrait of her future.
But he worked; working was his highest ideal.
-What a good boy!- said the villagers and everyone gave him their ...
best wishes to Mrs. Adriana.
Indeed, Rosendo was an excellent young man. His life was exemplary,
unique in the town. Other boys, before reaching his age had
escaped from home, to surrender to the libertine life of the young
the village atmosphere demanded; or at least they already knew how to neglect the

prison surveillance equal to conventual of their homes, to wander to

sheltered by the moonlit nights, to the sound of guitars and charangos, and hiding
under the poncho and two bottles of alcohol.
But Mrs. Adriana was not happy. Her nights of crying said so, her ...
constant sighs.
I did not know what I wanted my son to be, but I was not comfortable with the fact that

he was just a simple cobbler, just like any illiterate boy.

VII
Upon learning of the arrival of a new parish priest, Dona Adriana went to introduce herself to him.

let's kiss and tell you about your misadventures as they used to
the spinsters and the beatified widows of the town.
Days later, Rosendo left the shoe store and settled accounts.
birth, marriage, and deaths, with a fixed salary of 10 soles
monthly.
It was already a relief for Mrs. Adriana and she experienced profound satisfaction at
to think that, finally, the primary education of his must be useful for something
Pinkish.
Rosendo worked this way for more than a year. And all this time he had
frequenting the close company of the priest's son, a young man of age
I am more cunning than a male of Tunquipa. (4) This one would drag him everywhere.
parts and I wouldn't leave him for a minute. He forced him to drink in vain. And although

Rosendo will show repulsion at first, little by little they began to infiltrate.
his heart, in his brain, even in his bones, the wicked customs
from that; the customs of the youth of his town; the moral misery of the
Andean settlement.
Thus one day came when, according to the priest, the devil took possession of the sweet spirit.

the honest man Rosendo and since then he was not seen anywhere, although
his charango vibrates just like his husky voice, every night in the
dirty town

(1) DO NOT STEAL, DO NOT LIE, DO NOT BE LAZY, moral principles of the Andean world

they translate to do not steal, do not lie, do not be lazy, respectively.

These principles were the foundations of the ethical social organization of
Inkanato, and according to the author of the annotation, were the postulates

fundamentals of Social Pedagogy of Manko Kapak, to whom it is

considered the greatest educator of pre-Columbian America

2 KESANAS, a type of dry reed that grows in lakes and is known as

it is known by the name of totora, when fresh
PESKE, a stew prepared with quinoa, very popular in the
towns of Kollao.
TUNQUIPA, a place located on the western side of Lake Titicaca, famous for
the production of mule livestock.
THE NUMBER THIRTEEN

I look forward, into the future, thousands of years from here, and
I see no longer men, ships, inventions, buildings, poems, but
children, happy children who play, who shout at full lungs and
I place my hand in yours and dream smiling in a
future without limits." ANGELO PATRIL.

It had been a few weeks since school had started and the
Third-year students still didn't have a teacher.
The director had once told us that the Ministry took a long time to appoint.
to the new teacher. But we didn't worry about it. Better
we were like this, alone.
Among the fifty to sixty children in our section, most of us were
little indians. The whites and mestizos were very few. Besides, we were very
various ages and sizes: from the "little worm," which barely reached
nine years, until the 'Novillo', who was already nearing twenty-four springs,
heights were varied.
Our ideal life was reduced to this: clearing the way for those who challenged themselves.

to fight, to ruin the fearful, to shout, to sing, to whistle, and in summary:

play, play from top to top, all the hours.
From time to time, the Principal would visit us to hand out a lot of whacks.
He entrusted the care of the class to the 'Novillo' and left. One morning, he showed up.
so much so that we believed he had gone insane. His violent gestures and
Their careless clothing gave us that impression.
When he had left, Jorgito, whom we knew by the nickname of
"Chestnut little horse"—for her blonde hair and her face red like a tomato—
he stood in front of us and started imitating the director, with such originality
that we all laughed heartily. And it didn't take us long to continue parodying
the other teachers at the school.
Some pretended to explain lessons. This interested many and our role
of teachers, between jokes and laughter, began to take serious projections.
—We can study some lessons without a teacher, like now—
Huayta, one of the oldest students in the class, stated that he
we called it the 'Make me laugh', due to its mangled language.
Of course, we can be learning some things like this. What do they say?
others?—intervened another of the greats.
We accept! Even if it's for the whole year! - was the response.
Teachers teach according to a program and us, where it is from.
Are we going to take out?—argued Marco, a boy we considered to be the most
applied from the class; and that's why we called him 'Machaquete'.

—Yotengo un programa—interrumpió “Gusanillo”—porque mi papá, antes de

Being a notary, he was a professor. And I bring the program.

The program issue had already been resolved, but Marco raised another difficulty again.
arguing that the teachers had a shelf full of books, books with
that we did not take into account. This was indeed a problem. The class stayed for
a few moments in suspense. And when we all believed our idea had failed
to study without a teacher, "Gusanillo" intervened again - And I can bring some
ten books.
"Worm"!
--I Bravo! Bravo!-- we all exclaimed.
The example of our tiny companion was followed by many more.
In order to know how many offered to bring books, they had to stand up.
One, two, three, four, five
— j Thirteen! — was the last number chanted by everyone.
—Bad number! Something is going to happen!—shouted one.

—They're stories of old witches. Who believes in those nonsense?—he replied

In the afternoon, the professor's desk— which we didn't have—was filled with books. The

courses were distributed by 'choice' among the most capable children. I the
a schedule was also created.
That afternoon we worked like never before.
The elected teachers were preparing the lessons. The other children were studying.
something, in case anyone came with lies. Even the most dissolute and playful ones.
they had to stay still, looking at the figures in the books. So it was, the
First afternoon without punishments at the time of departure.
III
The next day, the lessons of Arithmetic, Grammar, and History,
they developed in the greatest order. Only in the subject of History did we have to

to argue heatedly; for we could not explain to ourselves if Manko Kapak i

Mama Okllo were spouses or siblings. But the question we asked them to...
our teacher from last year cleared our doubts. It was both things,
according to the legend, but according to its realistic interpretation, they were simply

spouses.
In the afternoon, the elected professor of Zoology began by talking about fish and,
the discussion came, once again.
Fish have six fins.
No, sir, they have four, no more.
—Lie, they only have three.
What do I test! What do I verify! - shouted the children.
That was going to be endless, but 'Worm', aptly suggested that it
will request permission from the Director to go to the nearby river, to verify the number of

fish fins.
The proposal was accepted and a committee was chosen for that purpose. We were
three elected, and the three of us headed towards the direction, with the airs of greatness

characters; but when we were in front of the Director, we couldn't even drool.
What do you want? she asked us.
—Sir, we have come, we have —stammered nervously one of my
companions.
—Yes, they have come, but for what?
We want to go to the river, sir, said one of my companions through gritted teeth.

Ah! fools! Aren't you tired of playing every day in class?

We want to count the fins of the fish, I murmured as softly as
I could.
—What fins, or wings! Go immediately to your class.
Saying this, he bid us goodbye.
We inform our colleagues about the result of our mission and there was a
great confusion among everyone. Perhaps this was the reason for the professor's failure.
Geography; for, as he could not distinguish a median from a parallel, he started to
to weep bitterly, that child whose name I keep as the nickname of
"effeminate", which was perhaps an insult to his delicate temperament.
Then we did some drawing and a little reading. The afternoon passed.
IV
The next day, just as the Arithmetics lesson was about to start, 'Worm' was
call to the Management.
We all waited for the call.
Moments later, the rector and a man with glasses, with a cane and a coat down to the
heels, entered our study room. The latter was the father of
our tiny companion.
The first thing they did was look at the books that were on
the table.
The man with glasses recognized his books and recommended to the director that he be punished.

duly to your son. I still remember the severity with which that man spoke.
His teeth ground behind his lips that got lost in the thickness.
of his mustache.
The Director nodded, and noticing the existence of other books, he inquired with
Who has brought these other books?
None of those mentioned responded; but the 'Novillo' took it upon himself to accuse.

Hours later, a dozen parents and the Director returned to

entering the class, like a caravan of ghosts, and they launched their terrible
sentence:
Punish them in our presence!
The thirteen children passed, one by one, behind the 'Novillo'
receiving on the bare buttocks the shrill blows of the whip, that
The Director was increasingly wielding with more fury.

The books returned to the houses.

We each ended up with a conclave of cardinals in our buttocks.
 THE CHITA PANCHITA
My humble sorrow knelt down, my little yokalli, because they blew your
Andean dust. AURELIO MARTINEZ.

The father in the task, the mother demittani(2) his older brother herding the
novillada and he was only at the foot of the flock of sheep. Seven years of scorching
the sun had made his childhood skin thick, and he already felt like a man, although
his height barely reached the tallest of his sheep. He defied the
summer storms, like winter cold, with the stoicism characteristic of
his parents. And always with the flock, from the morning hours until
the evening ones, every year from January to December. I felt the most
unconditional love for the sheep, even if they belonged to the owner. He had seen them.
to be born and with him they were growing, like the acorns grow on the hills
cactus. But among them all, her favorite was her Chita Panchita, the little sheep that she
he will be bestowed by his godfather of elrutuchicuy (3), the same day they took away the

thanas (4) of his little dirty head, dirty from centuries of pain, suffered by his race.
That little sheep, which resembled a white little cloud fallen from the skies
serraniegos was the greatest hope of her tiny existence, because her
Godfather had said to him: In ten years you will have more than a hundred sheep and others.

so many suns of capital, for the wool sold.

When the snow or hail fell, nothing mattered to him more than shedding his
little poncho to protect his favorite sheep. In the harsh nights
I slept with her.
On that noon at Punta Perdida, the sun flickered dazzlingly like a
immense diamond exhausted in the clear gem of the infinite. In the distance, the
white hooded figures indeed resembled the embodiment of
your ancestors, as if in those hieratic postures they were muttering creeds
saviors of their descendants. On the hills covered with green grass,
silvered trills of the puku-pukus sang soft songs of notes
sadly solitary. And the intoxicating fragrance of demisikus, sage, sankayus and
saliva of the virgin (6), they gently wrapped that grand tranquility
Andean.
On that severely lonely midday, the majjttiitu felt an unusual
laxity and he fell asleep. The fox had hypnotized him with its tail. When he woke up,
the pack had disappeared, fleeing to take shelter within the walls of their
shelter, up to the cabin, and only found the remains of two devoured sheep
by the fox.
II
A few days later, the butler arrived at the cabin, bearing the mark of the
boss. The sheep lost to the jaws of the fox had to be replaced, and
among others, the catfish Panchita was marked for the estate. Neither the tears, nor
The laments of the majjtiitu moved the steward, who fulfilled the command.
from the owner, choosing the best sheep to replenish those of the estate.
To make matters worse, the flock was taken over by another shepherd.
On the night of the same day, the figure appeared from suchujlla (8), and at dawn the
At dawn the following day, it was confirmed that the catfish Panchita had been stolen. Its

parents searched for him fruitlessly; but soon they forgot him, as one forgets
about everything, even about their existence of rational beings. But the pattern could not

forget about the sheep theft.

All the surrounding people, like the settlers, received the order to hunt down the
small "thief" and a week later, they found the remains of the little sheep and
his master of the seven years toasted in the cave of a hill, devoured by the
puma
YOKALLITO, Aymara word that translates to little boy.
MITTANÍ, mandatory service that women provide to employers
3) RUTUCHIKUY, a ceremony that is performed among the Indians when the first
haircut of the creatures.
4) THICK, matted hair, often among Indian children, due to lack of
hygiene.
5) PUKU PUKOS, birds of the highlands, similar to partridges.
6) SALIVITAS OF THE VIRGIN and the previously mentioned, plants of the sierra
which are characterized by their showy flowers or by their delicious aromas.
7) MAJJTTITU, equivalent to little boy, in Quechua.

CHUJLLA, indigenous housing

 PERICO, THE TWO IN ONE
"Childhood has ways of being, thinking, and feeling that are its own."
own; nothing is more foolish than pretending to substitute them with the

our”. JUAN JACOBO ROUSSEAU.

I
Perico was my desk mate. We were in the fourth year of school.
Elementary. He was a sturdy little boy, with a brown complexion, bulging eyes, and cheeks

like I a pomegranate. Its enormous head covered in hair the color of

jet, showed two whirlpools; that’s why, due to its small size, we called it
Perico, the two in one.
He never gave a good lesson, nor did he ever present his topics, nor did he carry

notebooks. Some pieces of paper from theater programs and the pencils
spent, with which we classmates gifted him, constituted
generally the only tools available.
When the teacher was reviewing the arithmetic problems, left that day
previously, one would move from one section to another, hiding beneath the folders,
He was looking for some excuse to go out. If he was caught in one of these situations.

machinations, he always found some excuse to justify himself;

Sorry that in the end it was a joke that made all the children laugh and even myself.
master.
At other times, as soon as it was her turn to answer a question, she would get
to scratch the ground, diligently, arguing that his pencil or something else is
it had fallen; at the same time that with the other hand he delighted in pinching
to any child within reach.
If it was my turn, I would hold tightly to the bag or the wrinkles of the
pants, not allowing me to stand up, to respond; while he
he pretended to be serious.

Sometimes, with his escapades, he would implicate the entire class and no one else.
it was allowed to point out to him, we suffered the consequent punishment.

During the lessons that the teacher was explaining, Perico made a series of
questions that the teacher had to address other topics to answer.
How these questions made us lose our time uselessly according to the teacher.
he chose to silence him every time Penco wanted to speak. But, we
we observed that he spent more time imposing silence on him than in responding
to the questions.
Perhaps for this reason, I would sometimes ask the second question and sometimes the first.

leave the class. Then the teacher could speak freely, everyone liked him
we listened to the lessons in the most perfect silence, although we did not
we would understand.
This is how we were more loved, enjoying the titles of 'diligent children,'
disciplined, respectful, obedient, and even intelligent"; epithets with which the
the teacher used to rally us, while Perico spent hours hunting
flies and picking flowers from wild plants, which used to grow along the
perimeter of the schoolyard.
One time, when he surely found the reasons he used to dedicate himself to confined
his concerns, upon being expelled from the class, left the school and did not
he/she returned, but the next day.
Immediately after arriving at the school, the teacher confronted him with
violence, and after hurling a series of crushing insults at him, I
he/she was dismissed to return to his/her parents.

A lady dressed humbly, and even more humble in her language, returned.
with Perico. It was his mother.

That lady was alarmingly informed of all the faults of which she was
she blamed her son. In between sobs that interrupted her pleading sentences.
he was filled with anguish, asked the teacher to forgive and do everything possible
to correct your beloved son.
The mother's tears were used to berate Perico, until
the humiliation and, although he would not find any in his small conscience
having committed an offense, he had to promise that he would behave better.

The mother left and Perico returned to his place in our shared folder, making
a grimace of protest.
In the days that followed, the class became silent, calm, and even
gloomy. Something was missing and indeed the joviality of Perico, of that
Parrot that invented jokes and stories, that devised pranks and r that
he only scrutinized what interested him in the lessons, he had been
startled. Only a taciturn and mute boy was by my side, with
the gaze fixed on the teacher.
During recess, we surrounded him as usual and made him
countless questions; but he barely responded with a monosyllable
most of the time she ran away from our company.
Nobody could explain what was happening with my desk partner.
One day we asked the teacher about the change that had taken place in the
conduct Perico told us that the lesson received by that boy had been
very hard with the mother's intervention; but it had produced the effect
desired and I was satisfied to have managed to correct that "twisted
behavior.
Indeed, it seemed that the teacher was calmer and was experiencing
a great pleasure to have us in front of him, sitting in the most absolute passivity,
even if we had our imagination wandering, either in the next break, or already
in pursuit of sugary sweets. The essential thing was that we stayed still and
without speaking.

III
Empty weeks passed, but Perico was still the same.
-Is he sick?—we murmured.
His complexion was becoming more and more languid and his condition of
misanthrope, also was becoming more pronounced, bordering on aversion to us.
I constantly remained as if petrified. Only when the teacher
he started his lessons, always with the same phrases and words, his face
she lit up and bit her lips.
One day — it was the last day he was at school — hardly had the teacher started his
The class stood up in surprise to all of us, spoke in this way:
Sir, we all already know those words you say at the beginning. Why
Aren't you starting the lesson from the other side?
Such observations, from the lips of a student, I had never received.
master, that's why he was left stunned for a few moments; but
he quickly reacted and took him out in front of us and bombarded him with insults,
until becoming hoarse.
Perico endured serenely, without uttering a single word of protest, the
angry outburst of the teacher.
He was immediately fired, as he was the last time, so that he would return with his
mother.
Upon leaving, she looked at us with thick tears in her eyes. And with determined steps, she left.

Later we learned that, out of fear of her stepfather's punishment, she had fled from the
house. The mother looked for him for a long time. Nobody knew where he went.
 THE WATER CARRIER-STUDENT

When my race emerges, which is the rarest race, it will be born the

superman of purer lineage So the world knows it

"What is the value of Aymara" DANTE NAVA.

A steamy March morning, when the children filled all the spaces
from the school with its boisterous games, the water carrier Ruano appeared in
the Direction of the school.
The teachers who were there imagined that some neighbor of the
the town would have sent him carrying a message; but, it was not so. The water carrier

that man of Herculean physical build, dirty and ragged, who lived
supplying water to most of the houses in the village, that man without
home and without family, who was a friend to everyone and who stayed overnight anywhere;
that same man, who showed nothing but a rudimentary mentality, and
however, he was a model of honesty, despite his dragged misery, he
now presented at school requesting to be a student. And what was proposed
that man In the face of that claim - noble and forceful claim - the
the teachers smiled mockingly; but the Director, after brief contemplation
he admitted it, although his name never appeared in the records
schoolchildren.
Since then he attended school with the same neatness as a child, and the
The townspeople nicknamed him: "Water carrier-student."
He quickly acquired work habits, hygiene, and order, becoming among his
model classmates of discipline. He/she never missed school duties.
he fulfilled his duties systematically.
At night, until late hours, he carried water to earn a living.
Every morning, I was the first to arrive at school.
While waiting for the initial time of school activities, he entertained himself by narrating
to the boys strange mythical legends, or passages of their life, filled with curiosity
Attraction. Sometimes it would manage to captivate the entire student body.
During recess, I only played with the younger children. No
he enjoyed playing with the older ones. It could be said that he was mentally delayed, but

it was not. His innocent spirit, untainted like that of a child, returned towards the
childhood with simple spontaneity.
This is how he became famous in school, while the children filled him not only with
his ailments, but even from his tips that the Water Carrier never accepted, yes
rather fruits and candies the teachers were competing to take them to their class,
so that he could tell the children the mythical legends that he knew.
II
One day in the third-year class, when the teacher was discussing about the
theories about the origin of Lake Titicaca, requested to be heard and told the
next legend, as rich in images and perfect as few:
This was thousands of years ago. Apu, the God of the summits, had forbidden...
the men who will climb the hills, allowing them to live only in the
breaks and the hollows. But one day, a man appeared among the men.
Aukka forced them to break the prohibition, making them agree that if
they would reach the peak of the summits, they would come to have the same power
of the gods.
When the men tried to climb the nearby peak, Apu, angry,
he mobilized a great army of pumas and ordered them to devour. Then, the
men asked for protection from the Aukka. This one took them deep into
the earth there they continue living converted into "Anchanchos" (2).
Upon contemplating the conspiracy of men with the spirit of evil, Intiel
Supreme god of the Incas felt great sorrow and eclipsed his light at the same time.
that all the celestial beings fell into bitter weeping. The tears
they invaded the land in the form of terrible storms, flooding the breaks and the
hollow places.
In this flood, most of the animals died. Only a pair survived.
of human beings, clinging to a bundle of reeds and resigned to die in love
by God, before escaping with the other men, they managed to float over the
waters.
When the God Inti turned his eyes to the earth and the celestial crying ceased, the couple
survivor by divine work, gazed in great astonishment at the pumas
(titis) had also perished and were floating by the thousands on the waters, showing
their gray bellies (kkakkas).
Here is the origin of the Lake you speak of and its name—he concluded
saying the "Water Carrier".
III
Legends like these, in which the condor, the puma, the fox, the vicuña, the moles,
the ants, and even the spiders, were personified as mythical beings, I knew
by hundreds the 'Water Carrier'; and with them the pages could have been filled
of several volumes. And many others could have been written with the anecdotes
of his life; for it was as full of picturesque as it was of painful passages.
past and its miserable present; and it had run so much through our three regions
cosmic.
IV
At the end of the first semester, I was reading and writing the "Water Carrier" with the
greater correction.
But at the start of the following semester, he did not return to school.
That man-boy, who when he let himself be spoiled on the ground with the
little ones, experiencing great satisfaction in it, evoked the giant
from the fables, surrounded by the men of Lilliput, to Tolstoy, during the
eternal recesses of her school in Yasnaya Polyana; and when she narrated her
mythical legends, saturated with a deep philosophy, resembled Christ,
spreading divine truths, or Gandhi, preaching passive methods of
the liberation of their race had disappeared. Their disappearance was missed
throughout the town and much more for the children. But as everything happens and it

it fades away, soon it was forgotten.

V
In the month of March of the following year, they presented themselves again. The school had

a holiday. But the children's sorrow was great when the "Waterman"
he expressed that he would leave them soon.
He had gone to a lost faction among the ruggedness of the Andes, and
there had been a small school installed for the yokallas of Punta Perdida.
I am now coming to request a certificate of studies, to validate your capacity.
as a master and to formalize his school, also, to invoke the gift of some
school supplies.
The children gifted him many books, notebooks, pencils, pens as well.
School supplies were found at their reach. Taking these gifts, and then
to assign the Director of the institution the necessary arrangements for the
officialization of her little school, she left.
The children said goodbye affectionately. And the teachers stayed.
contemplating it until it disappeared from sight, with eyes filled with
hopes; those hopes that we all cherish of seeing our redeemed
native lineage, and through that miserable wandering Indian turned into
new times arrived, it was offered as a small streak of
reality.

AUKA, spirit of evil, which is equivalent to saying devil.

sloppy evil spirits that are believed to inhabit the
reconditeces of the earth.
(3) YOKALLA, in Aymara means child.
AMAWTA, a term used in the Inca Empire to refer to the teacher.
 FINE CIGARETTES
The teaching by example is extremely suggestive, because
it has the real eloquence of the fact." LUIS A. RIVAROLA.
I
The learned lesson of the teacher about tobacco and nicotine as a narcotic.
dangerous to human health, had floated like the foam of the waters
about small school mentalities.
The word smoking had sounded, for a large majority of children, something like this.
like a cabalistic word or as a synonym for juggling. Except for a few
very few came to understand that it was about the cigarette.
On the streets, as they left school, these few children were commenting on the
lesson.
That's why I never smoke.
What nonsense. All the teachers say the same thing about cigarettes, but they are
the first to smoke.
I have not seen our teacher smoke, not even once.
If you want to convince yourself, observe it in the afternoons and in the evenings, and you will see.

A group of children conspired to spy on the teacher, to check if

Whether it was true that he was the first to smoke, it was true or not.

II
Hours later, four children, secretly positioned behind a corner,
they noticed that their Year teacher was swaying among his friends, making
spins with the smoke of his cigarette.
Would he have forgotten his lesson about the terrible effects of cigarettes?
Or was he a being immune to these effects?—the children thought.
"The lesson is a lie," they said, and they walked away calmly.
III
At dinner time, the teacher, while savoring with intimacy
enjoying a pleasant little cup of coffee from Carabaya, she delighted in making
smoke spirals.
The son of the retiree, who at the time was a student in the class that
he was teaching, he was caught in the act, looking at him. This time, as never before called
his attention to the cigarette in the teacher's mouth, even if he was used to it
let's see frequently, in other mouths.
The teacher accounts for what was happening around his cigarette and trying to
apologizing, he expressed:

This is a fine cigarette. It is not as dangerous as the ordinary ones.

IV
Then, in the theater, from the gallery, the same children that hours before
they felt some repulsion for tobacco, they observed how even the young ladies
the most distinguished of society filled the atmosphere with smoke, with the greatest
ease. They also saw that among the attendees in the gallery was the
son of the pensioner, blowing puffs of smoke, calmly.
We will tell the teacher.
You will be arrested for eight days.
His classmates threatened him. But the boy shrugged his shoulders and continued.
smoking.
V
In the next lesson, the teacher reviewed what was explained.
The boys who saw him smoking refrained from confronting him... but the son of the
they certainly did not forgive the pensioner.

We have seen him smoke in the theater, sir.

Yes, sir, I was distributing cigarettes to other boys as well.
He has cigarettes in his pocket right now.
The teacher inquired if that was true.
Yes, sir. But they are not ordinary cigars, they are fine ones,
the mentioned person, showing a pack of the surname 'Dervy'.

(1) CARABAYA, jungle province of the Department of Puno famous for the
production of superior quality coffee.

THE MYSTERY OF NUMBERS

"The numerical determination, abstract, without scientific basis,"
without resorting to the various factors imposed by psychology
 childish, it is one of the most absurd conventions existing
in our educational life.” JOSE A. CATACORA.
I
The promotion exams had come to an end.
—Zutano, 11-9-10.
—Mengano, 12-8-10.
—Perengano, 12-14-15.
The qualifiers paraded, increasingly affected by implacable severity,
through the whistling lips of the school Principal.
Behind a small table without a rug, the President of the Jury, a lawyer from the
the most aged generation of the province, lounging in the main chair, is
he sharpened his chin with ridiculous insistence. To his right, the other juror, a
teacher from the other school nervously fumbled with her leather bag. The
participants occupied a row of chairs placed in front of the table.
The qualifiers continued to parade, like poisoned darts of bitterness.
of vitriol, to fall upon the semi-paralyzed hearts of more than
two hundred children, huddled at the back of the room, like a
mass report of trembling bodies, of livid faces.
But what mysterious value did those numbers acquire in those moments, for
turn into the absolute index of spirits in formation, of dormant powers
And still of unknown mentalities?
--Jorge Saldaña, 12-8-10. Finally, his turn has come.
Jorge, upon hearing his name, closed his eyes and pursed his lips, as if that way he could

better perceive the last note.

"How much" — he asked his closest companions, trying to...
to convince oneself of what he had just heard, as if his senses were deceiving him.

—Ten!—Several voices replied.

A cold wave of sweat shook his entire body. And his waxen cheeks
they contracted while synchronizing a horrible grimace of disappointment. I would have liked

protest, scream with all the strength of their lungs: Injustice! But a
A tempestuous surge of tears knotted her throat. Her eyes clouded with
tears sought the door, perhaps pretending the escape of its spirit
tormented; but he found nothing but the threatening gaze of his father, who
the seasoning occupied the first chair next to the door. She felt embarrassment, a
terrible shame, humiliating. He lowered his forehead and remained still, stunned.
No one cared about him.
A painful farewell song concluded the end of the school year.
II
The people and the children left the improvised performance hall.
public places, and they emptied into the narrow alleys of the town. Those, in groups
dialoguing about the act they had just witnessed, and they were silent and
dazed, as if they had come out unscathed from a traffic accident and not
they were sure of it.
That last school outing, though more spectacular due to the influx of
the public completely contrasted with all those of the past year; because
the sweet chatter, the cheerful laughter, the boisterous jokes up to the
childish squabbles, which recalled the charming note of the
school outings had disappeared this time, under the influence of the
numbers.
III
Jorge headed home, not knowing how.
He walked down the street with hesitant, slow steps, oblivious to everything around him.

A halo of confused thoughts enveloped his head, his fingers,

Unconsciously, they were shredding the pages of the report card book.
When he realized, he only had scraps of information left that
they were still showing their last notes. The notes would enlarge and shrink.
before his tear-filled eyes, like evil hieroglyphs, that told him
with shrill screams: postponed lists, for the second time! ... She bit her lips
until bleeding. He clenched his fists and continued on his way. He arrived home, always

unconsciously.
The dad says he doesn't want to see you anymore because you have also been postponed.

this year—was the reception he found on the lips of his younger sister,
that he said, biting a small childish revenge.
Without answering anything, he entered his rooms. He looked around and it seemed
even the walls echoed back to him: 'Failure! Dad doesn't want to see you anymore.'
here!
He stumbled out again. I kept walking, not knowing where, nor to what.
He soon found himself on the outskirts of the town.
The afternoon was beginning to decline and the rays of the mountain sun were tinted red,
which is more the slow agony of the day or the anguishing and torturous pain of the small one

Jorge, they will rip tears of blood from him; blood that was pouring out in torrents.

about the frizzy peaks of the west.

Jorge kept walking... Until the black hood of the night enveloped him.
everything...
He/She never returned home again...
 THE SLEEPER
"The educator's role of the primary teacher should not begin "} Thank you. Please give the complete text for full translation. 4 The educator's role of the primary teacher should not begin "} Thank you. Please give the complete text for full translation. 4 The educator's role of the primary teacher should not begin

finish only at school; this is at the discretion of all

advanced educators, the prolongation of the home. Hence, the
the mission of the teacher is to reach the spirit of the family and pour out the

seed of Work, Peace and Dignity, indispensable factors of

progress and human well-being". TEOFILO MONROY S.
I
He always arrived late to school. Sometimes, when he found it closed
door, was quietly returning to the house. A little card written with authority
courtesy fixed everything when the boy returned to school.
"Sleepyhead," his classmates nicknamed him, because he had the habit
to sleep uninterrupted hours, while the lessons lasted.
Sometimes the teacher would wake him up. Other times, it was the classmates who
they would wake him up with some play of their own; they would paint his face with
burnt paper; they tied him to the seat with strong bindings; or they hung him
most curious and mocking inscriptions. When she woke up, she complained
furiously against the children who were sitting nearby
folder. If the teacher responded positively to their complaints, they tried to listen.
the lesson for a few minutes; but when no one attended to him, he rested his face on the
folder and wrapping it with her arms, she cried until she fell asleep again.
His face with sunken cheeks was getting paler and paler. And his condition
His mood was always stormy, like the sea.
II
When the father — a gentleman of the most ancient aristocracy of the Province—
he dined with his select friends, Paquito, that was the name of the little one
sleepyhead, took his place among the diners. I, although they felt
they never showed their displeasure at the presence of the child. On the contrary,
they always smiled and even applauded when Paquito recited his well-known
"Lonely white moon"; while the father, overflowing with joy and emotion.
paternal, multiplied the son's apologies.
That pleasant joy that shielded him from happiness at seeing the only fruit of his
sixty years —almost lost in his career as an old politician — always
applauded and admired by his friends, he forced that father of misguided affections to
turn Paquito into the hero of his family vanities.
I still at all the parties that were held around his personality, Paquito
he was the special character, if it wasn't the parties, it was the theater performances,
the cinemas or the radio auditions, those who were in charge of staying up all night
the spoiled child.
III
One morning, Paquito arrived at school later than ever. He took his seat.
As soon as the teacher started the first morning lesson, he fell asleep.

The party that was held the night before in honor of his twelve years had
stolen, as always, his hours of sleep. And there I was with my head made
a bacchanal and the slack body, sleeping and snoring.
The teacher woke him up and said to him in a loving tone.
—Tell me, Paquito, does something hurt?

No, sir. It doesn't hurt me at all.

And why do you sleep every day and not pay attention to the lessons?
I don't know... why do you ask me?
I'm asking you because it seems like you're sick and that's why you're sleepy.
constant that dominates you.
That said, the boy shrugged and settled into his seat,
disdainful manner. And the teacher walked away, prudently.

IV
In the afternoon of that same day, the school authority summoned the teacher of
sleepy child. When he arrived, he found himself in front of a lady dressed
in the fashion of the last century, and fat; so fat that the chair barely held her
he will take a seat. He received him disdainfully.
The school authority questioned:
What incident have you had with the boy Paquito from Peralta?
"Maybe the lady is that child's mother?" the teacher replied with
this other question.
Yes. It states that you have treated your child very poorly.
Yes, sir. You have treated him since he was a sick child. You must know that
we are not a bunch of disgusting people, nor do we suffer from
no disease—intervened the lady, arrogantly.
You forgive me, ma'am. What your has informed you is completely false.
child.
—No, sir. The boy cannot lie, he precisely does not want to return to the...
school, because you have told him that he is a sick child.
I assert that what you claim is false, ma'am. I will explain: it was
two months that I have been in charge of the section where your child studies, and in the two

months, there has not been a single day that he/she has not fallen asleep in the
Class. This morning, the same thing happened again and when I woke him up, I
asked if something hurt or if he felt sick. There hasn't been any more, ma'am.
You see, Mr. Director, the child could not lie. Today we have...
to call the attending physician and based on what they say, we have to take our
measures. I just wanted to find out
The lady left.
—Friend; we must treat these people who still believe as if they were crystals.
goddesses, and very goddesses, in the midst of the twentieth century. Although nothing serious happens to her, of

surely this incident will bring him some difficulties—she explained the
school authority.
The teacher smiled indifferently and returned to his work.
V
Two months later, the teacher was moved to another position. No one told him
He knew how to explain the reasons; but the school authority told him on the day of his departure:

Didn't I tell you? What I predicted has come true.

Indeed, Paquito did not want to return to school. His little body, exhausted
Due to so many nighttime overexcitements, he resisted doing schoolwork.
Something else, he felt embarrassed about that news that he would take home and that his
Mom will make it so much bigger. He didn't return until the teacher had gone away.
that one.

THE DREAMS OF CHUTILLO

The treaties that catalog professions and occupations
universal, they do not consider that of the DEER in our midst
no occupation other than that, despite legal dictates
that oppose, forms a deeper sense of inferiority,
the inferiority complex, in children.” GUSTAVO ADOLFO
RUBINA.
I
The awaited day was finally announced with a red dawn that filtered into
floods in the blackened kitchen.
It was the 28th of July.
That night which had just emptied on the other side of the continent, had been
for Chutillo a night of beautiful dreams. At the same time that he left his
The ragged bed, he told his mother — the cook Doña Cleta — what happened to him.
It had happened in the sweet unconsciousness of his dreams.
If you saw, baby, the things I dreamed about last night. You yourself...
you put on the uniform that my godmother Cleta offered to give me. Me
I styled my hair like Uncle Carlitos; and that's how I went to school. The boys
they admired seeing me so well dressed. They surrounded me and put me at the forefront.

from the rows. My teacher gave me a sword like those that captains carry and
I started marching like a true soldier. Our school battalion
he paraded amidst fervent cheers. From the balconies of the houses,
the girls threw flowers at us; and of course, since I was at the front, they threw them at me

they fell the most... If you saw how they fell on me; it looked like a rain of roses,

geraniums, carnations, pansies, who knows... But I walked very seriously,

very serious. Like a great general! .... Thus we arrived at the big square, in front of
the municipality. There were all the authorities and a large crowd.
The girls from the other school were also there. The ceremony began, and I
They called to recite the poem that my teacher gave me. I composed myself the best I could.
What I could, in front of Mr. Subprefect, but when I started I lifted my eyes.
toward the sky I saw ... .
What did you see, little son? asked the anxious mother, who had followed with
interest the story of his son's dreams.
We saw our flag, momma.
"What flag is that?" the mother asked again, as if it were about...
some of her clothing; for that humble and rustic woman was unaware that this
flag, that always flies on Sundays and holidays at the pole of the house
municipal, it would also be hers, like that of all Peruvians.
That bicolor flag continued Chutillo that our flag,
it resembled a dragonfly, one of those that fly in flocks over the
lake. The shield hung over the chest of the butterfly, like a large
scapular or like a huge medal, the tree of was clearly visible:
the quina, the llama, like a stain of fire, the horn of plenty.
But suddenly the horn turned into a large bull, bellowing.
mooing fiercely, it charged at all the people, who fled in terror
all the streets. I also started running, confused in the crowd,
desperate and gasping when the bull was about to catch me, you woke me up....
Jesus, say my son. Your dream is bad. God forbid! she exclaimed horrified.
the mother, before the extravagant outcome of her son's dreams.
What is it then, sweetheart? I know how to dream of worse things and it doesn't usually happen to me.

nothing.
The bull means that what we think will not come to fruition,
sorrowful.
Who believes in dreams, mommy! The other day the teacher told us that no
one must be superstitious—Chutillo objected, somewhat disheartened, as if
Those words from his mother would have strongly suggested him.
II
After the dialogue ended, the mother started to prepare breakfast for Chulillo.
carry out the cleaning of the rooms, the patios, the hallways. I watered the
I planted and put the grass for the guinea pigs. Once the task was completed, he/she started to

spying, staring at the gaps of the door, at the markings of the

curtains of her godmother's room, to see if she was up. She had offered
to gift him a uniform for school attendance on that July 28; that
uniform that his grandson Carlos, who was already a university student, had
left diminished and almost new still.
But that morning, unlike any other, Mrs. Cleta took too long to get out of bed.
After a long wait, he finally left his room.
Ah, rascal! You must be waiting for the uniform,
nervous attitude.
Chutillo, unable to hide his emotion, responded stammering:
Yes, my mother.
You have to go get the bread for me after breakfast, I will give you the
uniform ordered Ms. Cleta.
As soon as he heard the last word, Chutillo shot out like an arrow.
road to the oven, carrying a basket with it.
On the street, he observed that some children were already in uniform.
riding pants, the hunter style jacket, the boy-scout hat, he made them
to resemble the cowboys from the movies. But he, thinking that also
soon I would be just like those children, running at full speed, forgetting that only
he was wearing a stained, greasy and ragged suit, covering his body,
stuffed with dark meats.
That crystal morning when the July sun, moving through the clear sky
sarrano, tore the zinc from the houses with bursts of laughter and sparks
libertarians, seemed to identify with the radiant spirit of Chutillo.
He returned with the bread. Breakfast was served, and Doña Cleta ceremoniously took out a

navy blue suit, very wrinkled.

Would that be possible?
A silent exclamation of disappointment choked in her throat, then she
allowed to object:
If this is not the uniform of now
—Same goes. This one is better than that rag they've chosen for this year.
Besides, who is going to be paying attention to you? — The godmother replied assertively.
She believed that only the old, that which was made in the past, was the only good thing;
he thought, like most people his age think, that nothing
change, or rather, that nothing should change. With this mentality there had
promised to gift his servant the uniform that he had worn ten years ago
grandson.
I will iron your shirt, my son, and since it has been faded by the sun, it must be
no longer confuse yourself with the khaki of the other uniforms — explained the mother,

with a comforting voice.

Chutillo tried to conform.
III
Half an hour later, Chulillo was heading to school. His pants were
the robust buttocks were squeezing, making movements difficult. The sleeves of the
the sleeves were left at the elbow, even the cap fit at the crown; while the
shoes were torturing his feet, his chubby fingers, used to the
naked adventures screamed 'freedom!' on that July morning.
He arrived at school and his classmates surrounded him, just like in his dreams; but

What a different way!

Freshwater sailor!
Dry lake sailor!
—Raft sailor!
Chutillo lowered his face, flushed with embarrassment.
All the children were in uniform. Some poorly, and these were the object of
taunts, like him. His parents stitched them in some way, or they...
they sent to sew with a seamstress.
Another boy arrived without a uniform, then another, another and another; there were already six of them.

they lacked uniforms. Some wore very long pants. Others, jackets
very loose. They had been given to them by their masters. They were also servants

like him.
IV
The teachers arrived and the formation was made. But Chulillo and his five
non-uniformed companions were separated.
The six boys looked at each other, devastated.
Would they have to go home?
For that, they had marched with more enthusiasm than others, during the fifteen
Days that the school training lasted for the military presentation?
In any case, each one thought that they should be allowed to attend. To parade through the
streets in military formation, with marching steps and under the watch of everyone
people; sing the National Anthem with all the air in their lungs; make oneself
to applaud in gymnastic exercises; to recite poems full of emotion
patriotic, then... savor the cookies and sweets with which the Council
The municipality usually gifts to children. All of this constituted the greatest aspiration.

of the little patriots.

You can go home. Only the uniformed children will parade.
Why would they give a bad appearance to the lines— the teacher said dryly.
in charge of organizing the training.
—Sir.... the six little ones moaned at the same time.
The teacher, as if he could guess the desire of these children, let them enter the
lines, but at the very end. There where all the people would have to see them without
uniform, as an affront, for not wearing them.
Then the Director came to take stock, and finding Chutillo, the little Indian
smart and applied second-year student without a uniform, he asked angrily:
What about his uniform?

My godmother offered me...

--What godmother, what godfather... You said you had a uniform-- speaking to the
master organizer of the training, he said, while moving away:
This boy has ruined the program. The rest did not manage to hear.
V
They paraded right away and once in the square, the performance of songs began.
recitations and gymnastic games.
Chulillo waited for minutes for his turn to recite his poetry, with his eyes
nailed to the flag that waved, indeed as in their dreams,
resembling a giant. His turn did not come. He leaned in vain.
on the tip of his toes to make himself visible to his teacher. But nothing. He
they forgot about him.
It moved to the gymnastic games. They formed the chosen ones and in their place
Another one was put. Cruel irony!...Why?...He was not in uniform!
The despair of that chubby boy, dressed like a puppet,
he reached his peak. Unable to go on, he broke from the ranks and ran like a
crazy, heading towards his house, as if the bull of his dreams were chasing him.
reality.
He arrived desperate and gasping. He threw himself on his cot and fell apart.
in a sea of tears, without uttering a word.

(1) CHUTILLO, a term used to name a newborn donkey, and that is also
it is generally customary to apply to the servants of the houses
(2) CUYES, the name for rabbits in Kichwa.
 CASTLES IN THE AIR

All that signifies spontaneous manifestations of the child,

let's respect; but if they are instead bad suggestions, they are not such
intentional, let's guide it. Here is another secret of the
Education".-ALFREDO MACEDO A.

In the first morning recess, the fifth-grade children, gathered in a

schoolyard angle, they agreed to take a field trip.
They talked about the sporting events that would take place in the neighboring district;
of the pilgrimages of the journey — that they enjoyed so much; — of the table
common that would form at noon of the walk, on the shore of a crystalline
slope, or on a rise covered with wild straw; of the fun nights
what would happen between jokes and laughs in complete darkness; in the way that
they would be disappointed by the comrades of the village, among rockets and donkeys, and
to the beat of cornets and drums. They even talked about the banquet that the teacher
from the mixed school would provide them, with a lyrical speech, saturated with love and
emotion. All this and many other things were talked about by the children. the fruitful fantasy

each one forged true castles in the air.

Upon entering the classroom, they asked the teacher about the agreed-upon field trip.
Oh, surprise! The teacher denied them.
For the holiday, on which - according to the children - the excursion was supposed to take place, the

the teacher was invited to another excursion, which was to be carried out by the school of

girls.
The children, when they were informed of the reasons for the teacher's refusal,
they interpreted that preference for the girls as a disdain for them, they
they felt wounded in the innermost parts of their spirits. The first manifestation
from the sexual instinct is the hostility and mutual aversion between the sexes
newly born; hence the children felt like enemies of the girls.
—El maestro no nos quiere — se dijeron, resolvieron vengarse.
But, how would they do it?
-- No giving lessons -- was the agreed-upon motto. In the following days, the
The mandate was fulfilled with astonishing discipline and solidarity.

And even if the teacher resorted to all means for his disciples
they responded to the lessons taught, no child dared to break the
promise. Everyone remained committed to an inexplicable silence. That
It was, indeed, a true strike of silence.
Several days passed and the stubborn attitude of the children continued, each
more indomitable; at the same time, the situation of the teacher was also each
more embarrassing.
One day he approached a boy repeatedly, and the boy, firm in his promise,
Ashamed in front of her peers, she did nothing but lower her head,
silently. It had come to its limit and unable to endure any more,
he took him by the lapels of the coat and hit him hard,
In the face of the teacher's violence, a wave of protest swept through the entire class, i
a senior student, as if interpreting the feelings of his classmates, stood up.
foot and protested.
That student had a reputation for being "spoiled," because on more than one occasion he had

visible evidence, acts of rebellion. their intervention was interpreted by the

master as an act of insolence. Therefore, the response to his protest,
there were also the blows.
Late, very late, the teacher had realized the motives that were born.
the attitude of his disciples, and how he had begun/to resolve that situation
due to indiscipline, through violent means, it had to be continued. From there,
while the students' revenge was coming to an end, the revenge of the
master.
The parents of the spoiled children filed their complaint with the authorities.
school, when he had already received a request for expulsion for the
older student, an exemplary punishment for the other children.
Fifteen days of suspension, the school authority decreed. But after fifteen
days, a letter—well-felt and poorly written—that in its last paragraphs said:
I will not return to school as long as the teacher who has me is still there.
outraged," announced that that boy — now grown — had cut his
studies, perhaps forever.

THE MUMMIES
It would be too long to list the defects of which
we suffer from the moral illnesses that plague our
fields of national and personal consciousness. In all strata
socially we find this trinity: prejudice, the "request" and
fanaticism. EMILIO VASQUEZ.
I
Before the evening shadows dissipated, and barely at the red dawn
he hinted about the nearby rugged peaks, he felt through the streets the
strident sounds of horns thrown into the air. They were the school children
that this is how they woke up their companions to embark on an excursion.
The passive people of the town trembled in terror at the thought that such
sometimes the indigenous uprising from ten years ago would repeat, or in the arrival of

some revolutionary battalion, as revolutions were so frequent. But

When they realized the truth, they said to themselves:
What those kids at the School Center won't do.
By six in the morning, more than one had already gathered at the school premises.
a hundred children and minutes later, just as the sun rose in
the horizon in great leaps, like a pearl of silver glimmers,
we left the still sleepy town. Only the morning people and
Some night owls saw us leave.
The older children walked on foot, equipped like mountaineers, and the younger ones went

mounted on some small horses, those that we call in the mountains

chojjchis(1) that were very suitable for the size of the youngest children. And everyone,

in short— teachers and students — we were filled with a radiant joy, to

tone with the dazzling hours of dawn.
A gentle pampean breeze injected us with strong energy as the caravan began its
walk through a plain covered with golden grass.
The path resembled a bundle of small snakes marching towards the
millennial summits.
Soon, in a hollow of emerald grass, a herd of dairy cows
It looked like a blooming of gigantic demuttiphatas.
Beyond, a herd of sheep, white as the cirrus clouds of the Andean sky,
it wound through a yellowing hillside.
Then, on steep peaks grazed llamas, alpacas, guanacos, vicuñas.
solitary ones, that moved their heads as if they wanted to greet us with deep
reverences.
We arrived at the foot of the first summit and when we were about to take a
light refreshment, the notes hinge on a charango, of those charangos that laugh, cry
they sing the miseries of the Andean race, they sweetly wounded our senses.
All the children sharpened their ears as if they were in front of a stage,
they applauded frantically; while the Indian who was tearing at the strings of his
soul made of charango strings, made its appearance on the apacheta.
the gigantic condor was cleaving the skies, as if with its superb beak it wanted to

to draw the curtain 'amethyst of that majestic stage.

After the break, the caravan continued its journey. We crossed the first
summit, then another and another, until the end.

II
Noon surprised us right at the end of the excursion. A sun
reverberating a majestically rugged landscape, they gave us the good
arrival.
—Tinajani! (4) —was the exclamation shouted by the crowd of children.
before devoting ourselves to the repair of the tiring march, we agreed to
moved, ecstatic and motionless in contemplation of that nature
infinitely rustic.
Countless peaks that tear the sky into shreds, with their blondes
Disheveled hair was raised everywhere by the four winds.
Gigantic towers that rise like cosmic watchtowers, as if
they would like to offer their millenary mysteries to the sun, powerful manager of life.
Red rock outcrops that rise like immense walls of grandeur
archaic temples.
Deep depressions that resemble the lonely streets of cities
fantastic, paved with emerald gold.
Rocks that stand on the slopes, like mummified gods.
A torrential stream of crystal-clear waters, which runs through the cracks has
carved artistic stone tubs.
A clear lagoon, bordered by the most varied shades of green grass, on
this tangled scenery, flourishing papales, quinuales, cañiwuales
matureed barley fields, with a background of wild straw and grass saturated with freshness and

vegetation carpets the hollows and the high plateaus that rise like
flowering pedestals.
Finally, indigenous people (5) that cradle the lives of men of the
current pit, and a necropolis that hoards with greed the remains of men who
they were more than four centuries ago, completing the picture of this beauty
Andean.

III
The children left their horses, the one to the other, their heavy saddlebags,
provided only with the necessities (picks, ropes, etc.) we slipped through the
gorges, lined up one after another along the narrow, almost inaccessible paths.
We climbed to the heights and reached the high plateaus. Over those
Solemn and grand peaks we felt, as never before, the smallness of man.
in front of Nature.
We reached the first wakas (6) and the sacred necropolis of those who were.
perhaps, noble Wiris of ancient Melgar, or perhaps valiant generals of
Incanato, which succumbed in the conquest of the indomitable Kollas, was
defiled.
The children surrounded the swakas, just as bees surround their hive, moved
for that instinctive curiosity, typical of childhood. They excavated the mummies.
they were extracted from their graves.
No child showed the slightest sign of fear. They all handled those
skeletonized bodies, with the naturalness of those who tear from the earth their
scientific mysteries.
IV
At night, on the way back from the excursion, six mummies were paraded.
procession, amidst thundering cheers and shouts of childlike enthusiasm.
The people thought that surely the children must have stumbled upon
the appearance of some miraculous effigy, as was common at that time
times; but when the news of the mummies reached them, a murmur
fateful ran throughout the population.
Curses, blasphemous protests were received by the teachers who had
extraction of the mummies is allowed.
The witches had good work in their gatherings, during entire evenings,
in which they dedicated themselves to appeasing the anger of Pachamama - the mother earth

— for the sacrilege committed by the children.

Children are dying, 'held' by the earth,
feast of kkoa (7)llampu(8) and coca. Abundant sales for the merchants.
The children were also infected with their parents' prejudices, and even
those who had contested to be the bearer of the mummies on the day of the
excursion, now they felt terror for them. The teachers fought in vain for
convince them.
In the following days, the rains ceased and this alarmed even more the
neighborhood.
The mummies blow the rain. The earth, eager for water to bear fruit, cries out.
revenge to heaven, and heaven is resentful. The mummies must be returned to
the earth.
Such were the voices that went from mouth to mouth.

V
One day more than a hundred Indians invaded the school and requested to
shouts the return of the mummies.
The teachers and the children, believing they are victims of the enraged crowd, us
we finished in our classes, while the Indians were knocking on the doors with
the clenched fists and the women were shouting in harsh voices.
The authorities and the scant police force, made up of half a dozen men,
informed of the invasion, they came to our aid and tried to persuade
to the Indians so that they would leave the mummies, for the benefit of the instruction of the

children; but there were no reasons to convince them.

The rebellious indigenous people threatened to set fire to the schoolhouse, the
mummies had to return to their primitive dwelling.
On the same night of the mummies' rescue, a furious storm broke out.
storm.
The earth was appeased and the sky wept with joy.
Then the crops regained their green and the soul of the town took to its tranquility.

customary.

CHOJJCHIS, rugged horses, but very resilient

MUTTIPHATAS, Herbaceous plant of the punas that is distinguished by its
colorful red-yellow flowers.
APACHETAS, the highest parts of the hills where they cross
paths in which the indigenous people pay homage to their ancestors.
TINAJANI, a place located in the Melgar province which is a true
geological and archaeological laboratory, each description is authentic.
(5) CHUJJLLAS, small indigenous dwellings.
HUACAS, Inca tombs that differ from chullpas by their shape
Ovoid
(7) KOA Mountain plant used by sorcerers, because it is attributed
mysterious powers
(8) LLAMPU, llama fat, which is also attributed with mysterious powers.
 THE EXAMS

We must think about the hours of enormous worry that one experiences.

makes children live, during the days leading up to the

promotion exams; a practice that should be abolished, since
with her, the efficiency or utilization of it is not verified
student; on the contrary, it only succeeds in torturing his emotional life,
many times even losing it.” HUMBERTO PACA.
I
It was the month of December.

Our school was filled with an unusual stir. The lessons

learned during the school year, amid the fear of the teacher's pinches
the terror of the skull's dungeon had faded from our memory.
They had departed like the miasmas that migrate from organism to organism.

organism, leaving no more traces than the destructive infection. But it was
it is necessary to remember all the lessons, even though the destruction of our
the mind would be total.

We used to study. We would study even at night, until we fell asleep.

Many children, the next day returned with toasted eyelashes and hair
due to the fire of the ethereal candles. We also woke up early to go study
through the fields, and the morning air comforted us a bit.
That was a beastly fatigue, however, the teacher our parents did
they were pleased knowing that we studied day and night.
If they studied like this all year round, everyone would be graded with a 20.
"exams," the teacher exclaimed, satisfied to have eliminated the recesses.
Ah, the exams!
Exams instilled more terror in us than ghosts, that we
our octogenarian grandmothers told, and the thought that it was approaching, day
Every day, like a ghost, he had us engrossed in that fruitless task of
memorize copies and books.
II
The fateful day has finally arrived.
The elderly Mr. Carmona, lifelong judge of the town, 'tata' Alvarado, priest of
the parish, our teacher, a lady of advanced years and who never
he had a son, they formed the examining jury. They were installed
ceremoniously in the most spacious room of the school, they started their
inquisitorial task.
The first three on the list,' called the teacher with a kind voice, but
feigned, as we pointed out.
The three children entered trembling from head to toe, then they heard three, like this

subsequently. While the exams were taking place, the other children
we were walking around the courtyard, instinctively. The mental fatigue had us.
unable to weave a single concrete idea.
The girls—since our school was co-ed—had filled with candles.
lit up her study room, in front of the small bundle that the teacher had
made to raise for the image of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, they prayed all contrite
very remorseful.
The men would have also participated in the ritual of candles and prayers, if not
we would have been forbidden to mix with the girls. For we were only allowed to be
allowed to wear medals and scapulars.
The minutes dragged on so much and the hours seemed like centuries.
As some children used to leave crying after the test, the panic
it grew among us with increasing intensity.
I had a head that felt swollen and buzzing from so much studying. But when I...
I was going to fake an acute neuralgia to avoid the exams, they called my...
tumo.
Without knowing how, and in less time than one can imagine, I found myself in front of the

jury table.
Next to me was another child paler than wax. He was the teacher's favorite student.
the teacher, because he was a very different boy from the others. He never stopped
the books, nor did he ever entertain himself playing. He would have hardly been around twelve years old, he was

more serious than an old man. That's why he was the only student loved by the teacher.

We had been the last candidates.

III
The priest yawned deeply and Mr. Carmona sneezed mockingly,
while the teacher expressed: — These last ones are the best — for not
to individualize your favorite. They gave each of us a reading book.
The one who touched me—because of the new—I found different from the one I knew. When
I wanted to read, until the letters started to walk on the paper.
Then we move on to other topics.
Every time one of the gentlemen of the Jury moved their lips, I felt the
the impression that I was going to be dealt a deadly blow. We were, then,
like at the foot of a guillotine, before that inexorable tribunal.
--Let's see you,-- Mr. Carmona addressed me, while the parish priest
he was examining the other child — write on the board: If a book has 20,000
words on each page and the book consists of 2,500 pages, how many words
Will you have that book?

After writing as badly as the circumstances allowed me, I was left

looking at the teacher.
Solve that problem — she ordered me. But I couldn't solve it.
nothing.
The same thing happened to my colleague.

"Could you point out the port of Callao on the map?" another one asked me.
time.
I automatically raised my eyes to the wall and found myself with a great ...
A board full of an infinity of names and lines. It was the physical map of Peru. The
the only map that was in the school, but always kept. I headed towards the
map. I took a piece of wood that was placed there on purpose and started looking for the

Port of Callao.
Higher up.
Lower down.
More to the right.
More to the left.
That's it. There it is...

The port of Callao was finally uncovered.

Now, tell me about the viceroys that Peru has had.
 — ¿…?
I mean, how many and which viceroys ruled Peru?
No. I had studied that, and more than once I had repeated it.
memory before the teacher alone. But now, nothing. He did not remember any of
the viceroys.
As they were tired of asking so many unanswered questions, they changed the
the jurors and the priest asked me:
Could you tell me how many and what the Beatitudes are?
The Beatitudes are... are... are...
The teacher signaled me, and thinking that I was starting off wrong, I fell silent. That one

answer, maybe it would have saved me, but the teacher The teacher, with her
constant signs, lost us. Being able to respond with some simple idea,
we stood frozen, waiting for her signals. And she shouted:
Oh God, speak up!, Say something!, Don't be foolish!, Don't you remember...?

IV
A bell rang, and the exam act was over.
We left the room when the shadows of the night had already darkened.
the environment.
As I stepped over the threshold of the door, which was three steps above the ground, my

the companion of the last penance slipped and fell.

He's dead! He's dead!" the boys shouted, crowding around him.
favorite child of the teacher, who lay in sleep.
It's because of the impression that no could answer only one question —
the teacher stated, upon examining him.
 The Condor

My love: when my strength has vanished, when I am already

I can't serve you, don't abandon me, don't let me die of
hunger, nor sell me to a cruel and ignorant individual. If it is
necessary kill me yourself so that my sufferings are
Younger ones. 'Seek, oh my master! that my existence comes to an end

tranquilly, kindly. I beg you invoking Him.

who was born in a manger." LUIS C. INFANTE.

I
The teacher placed a chair on the desk and instructed the children to it.
they will be drawn.
They were about to draw the chair when Héctor, the best draftsman
from the class, raised his hand and requested permission to speak. The teacher replied to him

he granted the floor.

Sir, we want free drawing...
I want, you mean to say—interrupted the teacher, ironically.
—We all want it, sir!—the other children shouted at the same time.
master, faced with the avalanche of orders, had to place the chair in its place
to cater to the wishes of the children. But no. The children should not do what
they would like. The will of the master had to prevail in some way, and he expressed it
saying:
Well, they will make an imaginative drawing; but to have some uniformity,
the theme of today's drawing should be about birds.
The children accepted this new arrangement more gladly than the previous one.
Hector accepted it with great pleasure. Hector was the artist of the class.
all classes have their artist — poet or illustrator — their mathematician, their
naturalist, its historian, its geographer, its orator and even its philosopher. I each
a child who excels in a subject has greater influence over others
other children. That is why Héctor was an authority in the drawing class.
All the children were drawing with great enthusiasm. Each one put on their
he worked all his interest, all his spirit because that drawing was—in a certain
mode - work of their own initiatives. When the child does something that is part of
himself, the teacher has little or nothing to do for discipline.
One of the first to finish his task was Hector. He handed in his drawing to
master and awaited his opinion.
A monstrously large bird, devouring a tiny man, was the
reasons for the drawing. Although the design of each of these motifs was almost
perfect, the relationship between both showed a visible contrast.
What does this mean?" the teacher asked.
It's a condor that's drinking the man's eyes out.
Héctor,
But do you think that the condor is bigger than a man?
Yes, sir!
—Why?
Because only by being greater than man can it attack him.
Have you ever seen a condor?
No, sir; but I have been told.
Héctor had never seen a condor. He knew it by references and he
I imagined it to be much bigger than the man.
How have they told you?
Ah, it's a very long story! Do you want me to tell you? -Héctor expressed,
marked enthusiasm.
The teacher checked his watch, then told the children that Héctor would count.
something very interesting, while the drawing class was taking place.

The other children received the announcement with applause.

And then it started:

Dad had a long time ago a big horse, very big. We called him
Melgarejo. Dad used to say that he named me that because I was very spirited,
crazy like that Bolivian general. It had a strange color, ash gray, almost
green. It had a single white spot on its head.
When I learned to ride, Melgarejo was already aging and had lost
much of his former vigor; for this he had been dedicated to being an armchair.
Mom, she loved him very much. He was the only horse she could ride, without him
scaring me with her enormous skirts and taking me in her arms.

One day mom died and since then, the horse would not let anyone ride it.
nobody. Every time someone wanted to saddle him, he would get in the way and would not give in, although

Dad will mess it up until he's tired.

But something strange was happening with that animal; while everyone in the house was
they were afraid, I was walking around their legs without scaring them
I rode him like a gentle donkey. He knew me very well; my whistles were enough.
I knew, and without the need for a halter, I could catch it in any field.
The years went by, during which Melgarejo only understood me.
After that, I went to school. And that old animal, as if it felt sorry for not
worm, did not want to return to the house anymore; surrendering to a wild life and

abandoned to its fate.

All the villagers were chasing him for the damage he caused.
in their farms. Even dad, tired of so many complaints he received at
diary of parts of those, he chased him several times to shoot him
revolver; but Melgarejo, as if his instinct was warning him of danger, always
he was stopped. One time they managed to catch him and bound him, and they sent him to the fair of

La Paz (Bolivia) to sell it. And when dad thought he had finally succeeded.
getting rid of the beast, which being his served no purpose, Melgarejo
he returned to appear in the town's fields, stirring up the protest of the
chacreros.
—And how had he crossed the Desaguadero? —interrupted a child,
mockingly.
He swam. Melgarejo knew how to swim very well. Well, how many times had he saved
the life of dad, when drunk and capricious he would get into the rivers
flowing through the farm—Hector replied emphatically, and continued his
narrative.
But now he was completely aged. And when winter arrived and the
foreign pastures that it used to feed on were blinded, a
afternoon at home, gently. Dad, surprised by that unusual return, said
he examined the teeth and found that the horse had reached a state of
absolute inability to feed themselves by their own effort. Then
he ordered that a bag be hung around his neck and from there he only fed himself
with rice flour.
Thus he lived for some time longer, during which, as if he wanted to pay
with something the daily sustenance of his decrepitude, he submitted himself again to work, in

the transportation of light loads.

But in the long run, it completely expired; until one day dad ordered
that they would hang him. Under those circumstances, a muleteer arrived home and requested that

you will be provided with a beast of burden to carry your luggage until you reach
to his train, which was already a few days ahead, towards Moquegua.
Dad saw at that moment an insensitive way to get rid of the old woman.
beast and thinking: "eyes that do not see, heart does not feel," he offered it to the muleteer.

The muleteer took him with him. They had already covered a day's journey and by noon
the second, while descending one of the many slopes of the mountain range, got tired
Melgarejo.
The muleteer made cuts and incense with dry herbs, but the animal did not
could not walk another step. Then, angry and blaspheming, he took out his
revolver and shot him, which only caused a scraping wound on the
head. He was going to shoot again, when he realized that he only had
two bullets anticipating some danger along the way, he kept them after loading
his luggage on his saddle horse; he continued on his way, leaving Melgarejo behind
at the mercy of his own fate, dying.
After a few hours, the poor beast revived a little. It felt a thirst.
calcining, making a supreme effort, went down to the ravine in search of
water. He arrived at a muddy area surrounded by green grass; In the central part of the mud

it was offered to Melgarejo's view, pools of iridescent water; but not

it was without oil. He struggled to get there oh misfortune! when he was already
reaching the desired liquid, its four legs sank into the mud, like
four stakes driven in by the weight of its enormous body.
At that very moment, a appeared over the sky of the quebrada mountain range.
hungry condor flying, flying, descended to the ground.
Melgarejo, faced with the sudden presence of death, felt that his body,
used to the harshness of work, for the first time it made him shudder with
terror. When the condor tried to pierce life with its carnivorous beak,
he asked to be listened to for a few moments. The condor, compassionate,
He was sure to have his prey in the trap, he let it speak.
Melgarejo, in that language that only animals understand, told his
life in a few sentences, I end by saying:
Among all the beings of Nature, man is the fiercest animal. Not
it is not only bad with other animals, but even among themselves
they exploit and kill each other. We, the beasts, also besiege each other, but of
front; while they resort to the most terrible and hidden means to
to destroy oneself. I only knew two human beings, kind to the
animals: a mother and a child...
As he said these words, Melgarejo's eyes closed forever.
another beast, the condor, before satiating its appetite with the body of the beast
dead, preferred to rise through the air, swift and impetuous, as if wanting to
to avenge the pains for Melgarejo...
 BUFFALO
In the face of the power of the superior capacity, imposed by the
social conventions must surrender; they must
"to collapse like the clay monuments." LINO LEON
MARTINEZ.

Once sonorous chimes of the public clock announced the end of the labor
morning activities. The children filled the streets with that typically joyful noise.
childishness that usually characterizes school outings. They drifted away in
diverse directions while the school remained brief.
Jaime was leaving only in the company of Buffalo. He was a black dog of
large size, with an imposing appearance, with two white spots over the eyes
a wound in the chest. Despite its severe presence, it was an harmless animal.
He always went in the company of Jaime. When the boy entered the school,
Buffalo lay stretched out along the door, and there it stayed until
sometimes it penetrated up to the study room, lying at the feet of the
his master's folder, it seemed that he was listening to the lessons of the teacher.

All the children had grown fond of the dog, some more than others,
he would make him participate in his 'recreations' (fruits and candies that the children bring for

consume at school). Buffalo was a deer-like person. He ate everything, even

sweets and fruits. But he did not go to school for the "recesses"— like they do in the
most of the animals — but for their master Jaime, whom they loved
affectionately, because he knew that he also loved him.
Even the master had become accustomed to his presence, and many times he took...
of model to highlight the lessons, when he spoke about the nobility of the
animals the need to protect them.
Jaime was nervously fiddling with the big ears of Buffalo. There was
defeated his contender in the monthly tests. He should be
satisfied and happy; but I wasn't.
In the previous month, Oscar's mother—his opponent—had told him that the
the teacher graded him with high marks because his father would give gifts to
this one, and she not. I had also told him that if he kept rating him better than
his son would do it, report for giving favors to the students... Jaime estimated
a lot to his teacher, not because he graded him well, but because he was good, very

Well, better than his own father. He would have preferred to be graded with marks.
inferior to Oscar; but at the time of the test, he had not had the
enough strength to say nothing. And that threat from his mother of her
container, his conscience bit him. At times, he thought about going back the
I was about to tell everything to the teacher, but I couldn't decide. I continued mechanically.

walking.
His friends had abandoned him that day because of his high grade, and even his
cousin Emilio had told him in training:
You are indeed a wise man... with irony.
All of this was bittering him. He had a dry mouth and felt that something was tightening him up.
throat.
He continued walking.

She turned a corner and her eyes met, face to face, with Oscar's.
She was waiting for him. Intuitively, she guessed his intentions wanting
avoid it all, even though he felt stronger than him, he turned his back on him to
take another street. But Oscar was not satisfied. With a leap, he blocked him with the
foot, and Jaime rolled on the ground. Buffalo grunted a bit, but believing that it
it was about children's games, to which he was so accustomed, he
calmed down
The offended one stood up and always passive, asked why he was being attacked. Oscar
in response, he was fed up with insults and challenged him to a fight.
Those insults touched even the deepest fibers of Jaime's being, and,
although he knew well that his father — who was nothing but a modest carpenter —
I would never approve of his attitude of picking a fight with the son of Mr. Montalván, whom everyone...

the people paid homage, accepted the challenge.

The two children headed towards Chacarilla, a country house
abandoned, which was the right place for all the childhood fights.
Oscar was boasting about his bravery down the street.
I'm going to Chacarilla to have a little fish,
Jaime, who walked meditating on the consequences of his attitude.
Two blocks away, they already had a large crowd of children following them.
making a lively circle and shouting.
They arrived at Chacarilla. They entered a large warehouse, and the bets were placed.
about which of the fighters was going to be the victor.
Jaime had more supporters, while Oscar was only accompanied by
the children in his class; that is to say those who felt offended by the triumph
by Jaime.
Until this moment, Buffalo could not explain the reasons for that commotion.
he limited himself to following with his eyes all the movements of his master, as well as the

of the child who made him fall on the street.

Oscar took off his blazer and always showing bravery, he squared up.
Jaime limited himself to taking a defensive stance, as if regretting.

Then they approached each other. They looked at each other intensely and instinctively

They tangled among punches and kicks.

The crowd of kids cheered for their hero at every game. But suddenly, it arose.
He! dog from among the crowd and lunged at his owner's container.
When Jaime realized what was happening, the dog had already taken off.
large pieces of muscle to Oscar.
 THE SLICES
"Let's examine all aspects of extracurricular life."
in our students and in their knowledge we will surely find, the
A more precise pedagogical text that we seek in vain
in exotic free ones." ERNESTO BARRIENTOS.

He walked without knowing how. A tremendous laxity relaxed his muscles,

but he kept walking. He would have preferred to go back home. Get into bed.
recover your dream.
The fumes of that night were still on her body, bewildering her,
enlarging his head; for there was a party at home, on the occasion of the birthdays.
of her older sister.
He put his hand into the pocket of his blouse and found his usual slices.
of bread with butter and jam. He took them out of habit. And that day,
with that lethargy that had put her appetites on strike, those slices
they were behind. He thought of throwing them behind the nearby fence; but seeing coming
to a dog, he waited to give it to him. When the dog passed by him,
he threw a piece at him; but the innocent animal reacted as if he were being shot at.

hunting. How many times had I been attacked by similar children and
thinking that this one was also attacking him, he fled.

--Stupid dog!!-- exclaimed Edgar, squeezing the slices.

For the second time she was going to throw them, when she saw Luisito, her companion, coming.

class.
Luisito, while passing by where Edgar was, didn't even look at him. He was with the
soul torn by deep worries and I had no desire to
talking to no one.
“Lucho!” Edgar shouted at him.

Lucho kept walking, as if he heard nothing.

—Hey, don't pretend to be deaf!—he shouted at him again.

Luisito stopped, answering with just a monosyllable.

Edgar approached him and questioned him:

Why don't you want to talk to me?

I don't know,
There was a moment of uncertainty for Edgar, but he finally decided to offer her the
slices. A visible flash of satisfaction appeared on Luis's face.
Children forget their most depressing pains when hunger roars in their lives.
entrails. But simulating her sudden emotional change, she replied:
—Bread?, why not?
Edgar took out his slices and offered them.
Those that were a torment for Edgar found a place.
preferred in Luis's stomach. After finishing, he thanked with a
sweetly languid smile, as if embarrassed by its first attitude with
Edgar.
Why were you like that? Edgar asked him again.
It's just that you don't know what happened to me,
sigh that reflected the miseries of his home.
What is it, then?
Luisito would have remained silent, as so many times he remained silent about everything that happened in the

intimacy of the parental home; but didn't the whole village already know everything? Edgar

he would also know soon, if not from her lips, from someone else's, and he decided
tell him/her about it.
You know? Yesterday afternoon, when I got home, I found my mother crying.
bitterly. I asked her why she was crying and she told me that my father had
he played his car in paint, at the Peta's picantería. If you saw it, how angry it made me.
the news. I love my father's car very much, because I also have to be
driver, like him. I immediately headed towards the picantería. There I found
to my father among some men who shouted and yelled the words
uglier, and they called the old fishmonger full of shamelessness.
There is the heir! There is the heir! - the men shouted when they saw me.
enter.
What did they mean by that?
I don't know; but they were referring to me. Some caressed me. Others passed their

a glass of chicha. Someone handed me some coins. I wasn't paying attention to.
nobody. I just told my father: Let's go dad -My indifference mortified
visibly to those men, they began to insult and mock me
Father. He, who couldn't tolerate the insults, threw a glass of chicha at them.
Domas started the fight. All the men went against my father, like
Some beasts, they attacked him with punches and kicks.
What an outrage! Was there no one to defend him?
—Nobody. I did nothing but scream. Some neighbors came. Then the
police. When the police entered the stew house, some of those
Hunger was fleeing. Inside, they only found my
father, with a bloodied knife in hand, at the old Peta who was screaming at
voice in the neck: He killed him! He killed him!, pointing to a man who lay
on the floor. When I came back home, I no longer found my mother. - Upon saying
these words could not contain the tears that flooded her eyes. And then
continued with the sentences tortured by crying:
Someone had informed him of the crime news and an attack deprived him of the
senses. The neighbors took her to public assistance, from there they passed her
to the hospital.

At that moment a police officer appeared, who approached them,

hastily.
I finally found you, little bird! - she said to Luisito, taking him by the neck.
Luisito said nothing. Only tears flooded his eyes again.
But he is not the one who killed, Edgar pleaded, as if trying to defend.
to his friend, highlighting his innocence.
And who told you that he has killed someone? said the police officer.
smiling, he walked away taking Luisito with him.
 THE GIRL, THE YOUNG MAN AND THE BANDITS

"Out of the 500 films produced in 1930, 137 have crime as

theme; 44 are dedicated to war, to scenes of horror and to
mystery, 70 around the sexual question. This classification
it demonstrates by itself the imminent danger that cinema entails
for children and adolescents" JOSE ANTONIO ENCINAS.

The abandoned cemetery was the place chosen by the children to recreate the
cowboy movies that they had admired in the only cinema in the town.
That pantheon, with its ruined chapel, its white mausoleums, its kollis
ancient, its immense cypresses, its leafy underbrush, and even its dump
filthy — as if everything was filthy in that dwelling of beings that were left behind

to be - was identified, for the child’s imagination, with the places in which
they filmed the movies that made them experience hours of intense emotion.
There, no one would bother them. The good people of the neighborhood would hardly mumble.

some silent punishment for the profanation. It had been too long since the
the cemetery was abandoned so that they would remember their ancient dead.
The newcomers had another dwelling.
The moon sailed towards the zenith, like a bright ship of gold, floating in a
calm lapis lazuli sea. Light flooded the pantheon in torrents.
abandoned.
The trees cast their profiles, their shadows took on shapes.
sinister, while the whole place came alive with an atmosphere
severely poetic.
It was eight o'clock at night.
II
One by one they arrived until there were about twenty boys of all sizes.
of all ages. They crowded at the gate that led to the side most
desolate after waiting for the last day of the appointment, they entered the cemetery.
Each one displayed the artifacts they brought to identify themselves with the character.
what it was intended to parody. They then discussed at length about the distribution
of papers.
I want to be the 'young one'.
The dumbest one had gotten a craving, right? I have to be the 'young one'.

I don't want to be the 'girl'. Marino, who is a bit chubbier, is the funniest.
let it be...
—Roberto to play the role of 'tavern keeper'

I am Emilio from the 'chief of police'.

"I will be the 'great bandit'!" shouted a hoarse voice; that voice that characterizes
puberty. It was the moth known by the nickname Wajjsallo.
I will be your companion!
Me too!
Yomás!
Finally, the roles were assigned, and the movie started to play.
A whisper of children's voices invaded the sacred cemetery, spreading
throughout all the corners.
III
The 'girl' and the 'young man', sitting on a grave under a leafy kolli
they tried to perform their roles up to eroticism, and inadvertently they
masturbate.
Beyond, hidden among the bushes, the "bandits" prepared their horses.
of wood his weapons: pieces of iron, bone, and wood. The "foreman"
Wielding his bony dagger, he urged his followers. Soon they were storming the house.

jacket of the alleged father of the 'girl'.

Inside the chapel that represented the tavern, some boys
They pretended to drink. Others danced to the sound of shrill whistles.

IV
Suddenly the "band of thieves" arrived in the midst of a terrible clamor, the
bandits take over the tavern.
Hands up!
Hands up!
The assaulted were cornered in a corner of a warehouse with their hands up and,
while some pretended to point their revolvers, others, no more and no less
that in a cinematic assault, they disarmed the victims and took away
everything they owned.
—Hey, don't take my real! — protests a victim of the assault:

Shut up, fool! Yes, I am a thief! replied the assailant, with complete naturalness.
Of course! They are thieves! There's nothing to be done! - shouted the innkeeper.

Once the looting task was completed, the raiders dedicated themselves to drinking. They said
improper insults. Everything obscene has taken over the language of the
children.
The 'foreman' took a bottle out of the pocket of his wide trousers, which blossomed in
the heels and dragged purely because of being large on the ground, and invited to drink to the

yours,
It's alcohol, I don't want it, said one.
—Yes, it's alcohol, me neither—another one protests.

What fools! said the foreman. What do you think they take?
bandits?
It is known that they drink alcohol, but we are not really bandits.
If you don't want to drink, don't come back tomorrow.

Here, everyone is macho, like in the movies...

They drank alcohol, some more than others. Wajjsallo's words...
they constituted a mandate, because he was the greatest of all. Then they left from the

They head to the estate house that they must assault.

V
Running through all the twists and turns of the cemetery, they arrive at the place that serves as home.

farm.
—Peni! Pen! Pen!
They shout imitating gunfire.
The "young man" prepares for the fight. The "girl" runs to hide behind the
leafy hill. The first "bandits" discover her. They kidnap her, as in the
They take her far away, and there over a grave, piled in a ball of
adolescent meats, the drunken and degenerative scene is repeated of the
masturbation.
The other "bandits" seize the young man, fighting brutally.
-Let yourselves be hit, then! Is it like this in the movies? - shouts the "Young One".

struggling with several on the ground.

In this, the police arrive. Now the fight is between several against empty.
When the police arrive, the 'young man' defeats the 'bandits' - he shouts again.
the young man, always struggling on the ground. But the other, the "foreman" does not hear
nothing, he doesn't understand anything. He's drunk on cinematic emotion and what it is

more: drunk on alcohol.

The struggle continues. It is the 'young man'. He is now on top. The 'foreman Wajjsallo, to the

to feel on the ground, roars like a mortally wounded beast. In the midst of its
a drunken stupor forgets that he is playing, and only thinks that someone
is overwhelming him. He makes an unprecedented effort. He knocks down the 'young man' and drives his

bone dagger in the throat.

Meanwhile, the moon sails towards the zenith like a shining golden ship, buoying
in a calm sea of lapis lazuli. A nocturnal bird rehearses its fateful
graznar, on the tower of the ruined chapel.

KOLLI, a tree that grows in the coldest climates on Earth.

(2) WAJJSALLO, native name of the booby bird.
 Children of Kollaos

The devil of the village

The number thirteen
The little cheetah Panchita

Perico, the two-in-one

The student water carrier
The mystery of numbers
Fine cigarettes
The sleepyhead
The dreams of Chutillo
Castles in the air
The mummies
The exams
The condor
Buffalo
The slices
The girl, the young man, and the bandits