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Mom, where has all the time been hidden? Maria said. Seven years later, for some reason, they had to postpone the reunion with their community and family. Joaquín and Ana even felt pain in their chests because of the joy that this visit brought them. Being able to walk to the cornfields with their grandson was a pleasure that Joaquín deeply missed. He longed deeply for her company and could not bear to do it anymore. He finally felt complete at home with his daughter and grandson. The son of the gods was already 14 years old. He had transformed into a tall young man with an unusual beauty that radiated elegance and style, but with an athletic and muscular physical strength that revealed countless hours dedicated to swimming and other sports.
Grandpa and his grandson left home as the sun rose behind the mountains. The song of parakeets and the gentle swaying of branches masked their steps toward the cornfield. “I see you’re healthy, son,” Joaquín said, but not entirely happy. What happened? Didn’t you enjoy the city so much? “Grandpa, the cement gets into your soul and takes your breath away,” his grandson replied. It drowns you, its force burns you. I won’t deny it to you, it took me all my life to adjust to this new reality, and even though my brain appreciates it, my heart resents it. Life in the city, like its cement, is hard, even cruel. How is it, son?” Joaquín asked. I thought life would be easier in San Salvador with Father Santiago covering for you.
Santiago, Father, don’t tell him that he doesn’t like Grandpa, he was very good to me and my mom. He did the impossible to protect me and support me, his environment was conducive to my intellectual growth and in some way he tried to shield me and advise me on how to deal with the social violence of a school like Externado. Over time, I realized that I was different and that being different from the norm was not always widely accepted. My way of being, thinking, expressing myself, my thirst for knowledge and books, generated rejection and violence, not only verbal and psychological, but even physical violence from classmates. Although I gradually understood that I could only control my reaction to this harassment, over time it hardened me, made me sad and even a little insecure. I don’t like it anymore, Grandpa. Joaquín felt a lump in his throat when he heard the words of his beloved grandson. I saw and felt him as I had never seen or felt him before, a beautiful but sad young man. His grandson was no longer the same, the concrete of San Salvador had changed him.
“But tell me, Maria, what is life like in the big city?” Ana asked, “You know I always wanted Joaquín to take me there, but that idiot never wanted to do it.” Maria smiled a little, a nostalgic smile that was more sad than joyful. He had always known about his mother’s desire to visit the capital.
Life in the big city is hectic and hard, Mom. And more importantly, now that I’m back in my homeland, I realize what my son and I have lost. There is always a desire to live in the big city, with that frenetic and high-paced rhythm, which gives us a false impression that we live intensely and make the most of our time. But we deceive ourselves, mother, life is truly appreciated when we embrace the sea and its white waves, the corn fields, the mud of the river and the chirping of birds. That’s life, at least for me, and I want to say the same for my son. An evening walk by the sea is what I miss most in these seven years of my absence. But hey, Anna reacts, you can always come back. If this separation causes you so much pain, it’s nothing, life is too short to waste it. God knows how much your father and I miss them. Nothing would make us happier than to see them back as soon as possible. “It’s not that simple, Mom,” Maria replies. Your 14-year-old grandson speaks four languages and reads six. That justifies our sacrifice. A privileged mind like his needs to face other environments and challenges in order to grow. You will have time to decide where to spend the rest of your days.
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