A Day in the Life of the Little Fuentes
It began on a summer day, when all five kids woke to the sound of dog barking in the distance, to the awakening call of our grandma’s rooster holloring at the top of its lungs. It was 5am, slowly the sleepy heads rose, all but two: Tony and Noe who were the youngest. Papa Chico had started fire on the stove made of clay mounted on adove bricks, so rich was the smell of the wood burning. And out we went, to pull the water from the well that we so ingeniously worked so hard to dig. A cold splash of water in our face and a sip of fresh water, we were ready for our morning tasks.
Papa Chico warmed the water for coffee, I gathered the cups: filled them with instant coffee and sugar, preped them and took them over to where Victor would set up the cow for milking. Off by the Jocote tree, Victor had one of the cows ready, he was milking the cow...slowly the milk fell into a bucket below, and I stood there ready to intercept his momentum with 3 cups filled with coffee and sugar...passed them onto Victor which in turn he filled with milk directly from the cow... uhm, such a fresh scent of coffee, milk, and oh, so warm... all three cups filled, I took them and woke Tony and Noe for their morning breakfast.
That’s how our summer days began, drinking a warm glass of milk directly from a cow. And off we were, ready to take on the bigger tasks, to help our Papa Chico with the plowing and begin the planting of the annual crop – corn. We filled our *MATATAS with the corn ready to plant, one by one we took our rows and gently we placed the corn on the ground so finely plowed, behind us, the little ones came covering the seeds... one, two, three, rows and we were tired... we had acres and acres of land to fill, but our task was only a few and we would get a quater, to go and eat a savory *charamusca.
Being that it was the mid-day, we took off to the river – RIO PECHE, to swim and gather fruits for lunch. Mangoes were our course, some pepetos, maranones, and some jocotes. Often times we would go to a FINCA – a farm to get mass quantities of different fruits or we walked to Rio Blanco, which was far and we walked non-stop , often barefooted. We did not care, as it was our own mischevious acts to go miles into the LLANOS (foresty desolate land filled with thick bushes), plucking torns off our feet as we went. It was more of a course for us the oldest kids and not the younger ones, as we knew they could not keep up and if we were to confront snakes on the walk, we could handle the fear.
Our hearts raced with amazement and excitment for our ardous adventures we took. Climbing trees to get the Maranones (cashew fruit), mangoes, and whatever other fruits we chose. When the day came to a full bloom, we were all planning our top day’s spontaneous trips... we had a horse we rode often, however, one last task remained at large... on the evenings we had to separate the baby calfs from its mother otherwise we would have no milk in the morning...one of the toughest cows to confront was CERVEZA (beer), she was fierce, had golden spots that lined her body as if when a beer creates bubbles, so were her spots. I remember once, it took several of us to get the calf and a few of us to distract CERVEZA... yes, we would run with our hearts in our hands... it was like being a matador in the center of the arena, and a few of us were the clowns trying to distract this fierce monster from venging her separtion from her baby. At one point, if she was pissed enough she would chase after you, at full speed we had no option than to turn to the fenced land to take cover. The barbed wire was our only separation from a sudden death in the arena to being safe. Half the time us the girls would suffer deeply as half of our hair would get stuck in the barbed wire, but due to the intensity of the danger, we ended ripping our hair off and running at top speed. Not to mention that our cousins who would turn to aid us, would in turn suffer bad cuts from the barb wire, I am sure they still have the scars now...Yes, Cerveza would pull a fight and be totally agressive, the one and only cow everyone feared deeply...with our hearts in our hands and nervous little laughs ran out between deep breaths of relief, and some filled with tear after our successful herding: fear right infront of us separated by a few lines of barbed wire. Those were the evening days... complete with fun filled days, work, and adventures.
Our days were very different in adventures, although some of the chores were still the same routine tasks, we had found a way to make life a bit more interesting. Each and everyone of us had found a way to help and give our Papa Chico the help he needed as he contributed to our well being. Such a great person he was and is. God blessed us so much with such a guardian angel. For that I am so thankful that he devouted his time, patience, and love to us.
* MATATAS = closests description would be like a duffel bag (except Matatas are made of color full strings)
*Charamusca = Is an form of an ice cream, due to the lact of "containers, etc" the contents to make a charamusca are filled in a small plastic bad, tightly tied and frozen.
Written - Wednesday, November 10, 2010 at 11:49am
It began on a summer day, when all five kids woke to the sound of dog barking in the distance, to the awakening call of our grandma’s rooster holloring at the top of its lungs. It was 5am, slowly the sleepy heads rose, all but two: Tony and Noe who were the youngest. Papa Chico had started fire on the stove made of clay mounted on adove bricks, so rich was the smell of the wood burning. And out we went, to pull the water from the well that we so ingeniously worked so hard to dig. A cold splash of water in our face and a sip of fresh water, we were ready for our morning tasks.
Papa Chico warmed the water for coffee, I gathered the cups: filled them with instant coffee and sugar, preped them and took them over to where Victor would set up the cow for milking. Off by the Jocote tree, Victor had one of the cows ready, he was milking the cow...slowly the milk fell into a bucket below, and I stood there ready to intercept his momentum with 3 cups filled with coffee and sugar...passed them onto Victor which in turn he filled with milk directly from the cow... uhm, such a fresh scent of coffee, milk, and oh, so warm... all three cups filled, I took them and woke Tony and Noe for their morning breakfast.
That’s how our summer days began, drinking a warm glass of milk directly from a cow. And off we were, ready to take on the bigger tasks, to help our Papa Chico with the plowing and begin the planting of the annual crop – corn. We filled our *MATATAS with the corn ready to plant, one by one we took our rows and gently we placed the corn on the ground so finely plowed, behind us, the little ones came covering the seeds... one, two, three, rows and we were tired... we had acres and acres of land to fill, but our task was only a few and we would get a quater, to go and eat a savory *charamusca.
Being that it was the mid-day, we took off to the river – RIO PECHE, to swim and gather fruits for lunch. Mangoes were our course, some pepetos, maranones, and some jocotes. Often times we would go to a FINCA – a farm to get mass quantities of different fruits or we walked to Rio Blanco, which was far and we walked non-stop , often barefooted. We did not care, as it was our own mischevious acts to go miles into the LLANOS (foresty desolate land filled with thick bushes), plucking torns off our feet as we went. It was more of a course for us the oldest kids and not the younger ones, as we knew they could not keep up and if we were to confront snakes on the walk, we could handle the fear.
Our hearts raced with amazement and excitment for our ardous adventures we took. Climbing trees to get the Maranones (cashew fruit), mangoes, and whatever other fruits we chose. When the day came to a full bloom, we were all planning our top day’s spontaneous trips... we had a horse we rode often, however, one last task remained at large... on the evenings we had to separate the baby calfs from its mother otherwise we would have no milk in the morning...one of the toughest cows to confront was CERVEZA (beer), she was fierce, had golden spots that lined her body as if when a beer creates bubbles, so were her spots. I remember once, it took several of us to get the calf and a few of us to distract CERVEZA... yes, we would run with our hearts in our hands... it was like being a matador in the center of the arena, and a few of us were the clowns trying to distract this fierce monster from venging her separtion from her baby. At one point, if she was pissed enough she would chase after you, at full speed we had no option than to turn to the fenced land to take cover. The barbed wire was our only separation from a sudden death in the arena to being safe. Half the time us the girls would suffer deeply as half of our hair would get stuck in the barbed wire, but due to the intensity of the danger, we ended ripping our hair off and running at top speed. Not to mention that our cousins who would turn to aid us, would in turn suffer bad cuts from the barb wire, I am sure they still have the scars now...Yes, Cerveza would pull a fight and be totally agressive, the one and only cow everyone feared deeply...with our hearts in our hands and nervous little laughs ran out between deep breaths of relief, and some filled with tear after our successful herding: fear right infront of us separated by a few lines of barbed wire. Those were the evening days... complete with fun filled days, work, and adventures.
Our days were very different in adventures, although some of the chores were still the same routine tasks, we had found a way to make life a bit more interesting. Each and everyone of us had found a way to help and give our Papa Chico the help he needed as he contributed to our well being. Such a great person he was and is. God blessed us so much with such a guardian angel. For that I am so thankful that he devouted his time, patience, and love to us.
* MATATAS = closests description would be like a duffel bag (except Matatas are made of color full strings)
*Charamusca = Is an form of an ice cream, due to the lact of "containers, etc" the contents to make a charamusca are filled in a small plastic bad, tightly tied and frozen.
Written - Wednesday, November 10, 2010 at 11:49am
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