Buy at KW Empanadas!

Sunday, September 05, 2010

Optimism

(En español más abajo)
 
CanadaDisclaimer: This is pretty much my first attempt at translating into English a story originally written in Spanish. I’m not 100% happy with the results, but I hope you can overlook the obvious lack of good English skills I will display here. After all, you’ve been doing that for over four years! :-)
 

Optimism

 

The man came back home later than expected. His workplace was very far away, and he had missed the last of the three buses he would normally take from there, so he was forced to walk about 25 blocks from his last stop. "I gotta find me a job that's closer to home", he angrily said to himself many times as he was walking; but he knew very well how difficult that would be.

His wife was waiting for him anxious and worried, because she knew they lived in a neighbourhood that wasn't exactly among the safest. The woman was in her thirties but looked older without a doubt; she sighed with relief when his silhouette appeared at the door. After the corresponding explanations, she offered her husband a few mates while he rested for a little and greeted the two kids, who were already coming to hug him, not before they asked him for all kinds of things (well, actually, 98% of those questions were about borrowing some money). In the back, a big pot containing a stew (with very few ingredients) was already boiling, sending a sweet aroma. Dinner time couldn't be far away.

"Daddy, can you buy me...", the kids would say in unison (she was six and he was fourteen), knowing very well that Daddy didn't have a dime. Things were going pretty badly; they were barely making ends meet. Many times he hadn't had any food or a mere bite just to make sure that the family would eat properly. There lived with no luxuries, of course, and they even were illegally connected to the hydro. The man's generosity towards his family was playing against him, because he was growing weaker and that had already caused him more than a problem at work.

"I can't afford to lose this job", he thought. What would happen to them? His wife had always dreamed to become a school teacher, but then she got pregnant and those dreams ended in the last row of the classroom. Even worse, they would still have to wait for a couple more years until she could go out and get a job, at least until the girl was a little older and hence able to stay home alone in the afternoons. She was willing to do anything, "as long as it's a decent job", but until then her husband was the sole source of income. That they could eat almost every day was nothing short of a miracle.

The man still refuse to lose his hope. He intimately knew that this bad luck couldn't last forever; he was an optimist by nature (a dreamer, others would say), but that faith he had was the only thing giving him the necessary strength to get out of his bed every day...

His line of thought was interrupted by a casual comment made by his wife, right before he called him at the table.

- You know, Papa? Your boy said that a guy came to watch him play today and he wants to sign him for the club around the block.

"The club around the block" wasn't just any club. If was a modest institution alright, but they were already playing in Second Division and they were very well known for the excellent job they were doing with their youth. They even had a secondary school, to make sure that those kids wouldn't drop out!

The man got excited as he began to imagine what the future could bring to his kid. "He's going to do great", he thought, and that was just the starting point. He would play on that team until he got discovered by a 'bigger' scout. Then he would negotiate with a big team in the First Division and get the kid out of the other club without that costing him any money, as he is still a minor and hence couldn't have any contracts. If things got ugly, he would simply change his name legally, and register him under his wife's last name. It's not that it had never been done before!

Then everything would happen very fast: debut and glory playing for a big team, a couple of very important goals, interviews, some fake romances ("I'll have to find a good agent") and finally, the transfer to an European team for a lot of money. He laughed at the idea of living in Liverpool; he didn't even know any English! Then he would be able to look back at a life full of sacrifices and finally get some relax!

"This crappy life is about to change for the better", he thought as he was eating. "We're close".

The stew was still under his nose, fogging his glasses. A piece of bread -a little hard already- was keeping it company. On the TV, he could see a couple of girls of a very questionable reputation arguing with a very strange guy who had never accomplished anything relevant in his whole life; they all seemed to have different ideas of who had danced better. Something that was without a doubt a shot was heard outside, and caused the dogs to bark uncontrollably.

The drizzle had turned into a torrential rain, and it was making a lot of noise as it hit the roof made of assorted pieces of metal, so it soon became impossible to hear anything coming from the TV or the other people at the table for that matter. They were eating in silence.

The man was eating too, but he looked distracted in spite of his hunger. He had a smile on his face...

 
image
Picture from Archinect 
 
 
ArgentinaNota: Este es mi primer intento de traducir al inglés una historia originalmente escrito en español. No estoy 100% feliz con los resultados, pero calculo que mis lectores angloparlantes podrán ser lo suficientemente tolerantes con mi evidente falta de recursos literarios. Lo mismo les pido a ustedes, porque después de todo ya hace más de cuatro años que me vienen aguantando! :-)
 

Optimismo

 

El hombre llegó tarde a casa, más tarde que de costumbre. La fábrica quedaba lejos, y había perdido el último de los tres colectivos que normalmente tomaba para volver, así que habia tenido que caminar unas 25 cuadras. "Tengo que conseguirme algo más cerca de casa", masculló miles de veces durante el trayecto, como si eso fuera una empresa posible.

Adentro la esperaba ansiosa su esposa, que sabía que el vecindario no era de lo más seguro. La mujer, de unos treinta y tantos años pero que incuestionablemente parecía mayor, respiró aliviada al verlo. Luego de las aclaraciones de rigor, ella le ofreció cebarle unos mates mientras él descansaba un ratito y se ocupaba de saludar a los dos hijos, que venían alegremente a su encuentro, al mismo tiempo que le hacían todo tipo de pedidos (en rigor a la verdad, un 98% de esos pedidos eran de dinero). Al fondo, una olla conteniendo un guiso algo pobretón hacía borbotones, despidiendo un aroma dulzón que indicaba que la hora de la cena no estaba muy lejos.

"Papi, me comprás...", se encimaban los chicos (ella de seis y él de catorce), a sabiendas de que Papá no tenía con qué comprar nada. Las cosas estaban muy mal; vivían con lo justo, y a veces con menos. Más de una vez el se había privado de comer o se había servido una porción mínima para asegurarse de que su familia comiera mejor. En la casa no había ningún lujo y hasta estaban 'colgados' de la luz. Es más, la generosidad a la hora de comer le estaba jugando en contra al dueño de casa, ya que estaba debilitándose y eso ya le había costado más de un inconveniente en el trabajo.

"No me puedo dar el lujo de perder este trabajo", pensó. Qué iba a ser de ellos? Su esposa había soñado con ser maestra, pero una vez que quedó embarazada esos sueños fueron a parar al fondo del aula. Para peor, había que esperar un par de añitos más para salir a buscar trabajo, hasta que la nena fuera más grandecita. Ella estaba dispuesta a trabajar de lo que fuera, "siempre que sea digno", pero por el momento él seguía siendo la única fuente de sustento. Que comieran prácticamente todos los días era poco menos que un milagro.

El hombre no perdía las esperanzas. Sabía íntimamente que tanta malaria no podía durar para siempre; sería un optimista (o un soñador, dirían otros)., pero esa fe en un futuro mejor era lo que le daba fuerzas para levantarse todos los días...

Los pensamientos del hombre se vieron interrumpidos por un comentario casual hecho por su esposa, inmediatamente antes de llamarlo a la mesa.

- Sabés, Papi? El nene me dijo que un señor lo vino a ver jugar hoy y lo quiere fichar para jugar en el club de acá a la vuelta.

"El club de acá a la vuelta" no era cualquer club. Si bien era modesto, jugaba en la Segunda División y era conocido por su buen trabajo con las divisiones inferiores. Formaban muy bien a los chicos... si hasta tenían una escuelita secundaria!

El hombre se entusiasmó a medida que comenzó a imaginar lo que el futuro le podría deparar a su vástago. "Va a andar bien", pensó, y eso disparó sus pensamientos. Jugaría en ese equipo hasta que algún empresario le echara el ojo. Una vez que lo contactaran, negociaría con un club grande y sacaría al chico de la institución sin que le costara un peso, amparándose en la patria potestad. Si las cosas se complicaban, simplemente lo anotaría con el apellido de la madre y lo registraría como si fuera otro jugador. No es que nunca se hubiera hecho antes!

De ahí en adelante todo sucedería muy rápidamente, debut y gloria en un equipo grande, un par de goles importantes, notas, romances inventados (habría que buscar un buen agente) y finalmente una jugosa transferencia a algún club europeo. Se imaginó viviendo en Liverpool y se rió, justo él que ni idea de inglés tenía. Ahí sí que podría dejar tanto sacrificio atrás!

"Ya se va a terminar esta mala racha", se regocijó el hombre pensando mientras empezaba a comer. "Estamos cerca".

El plato con guiso aún humeaba bajo sus narices. Un pedazo de pan un poco duro le hacía compañía. En la tele, un par de chicas de dudosísima moral se peleaba con un extraño tipo que en su vida había hecho algo relevante, discutiendo sobre quién había bailado mejor. Afuera, se escuchó algo que sin dudas era un tiro, y los perros comenzaron a ladrar desenfrenadamente.

La lluvia, tenue al principio, ahora se había hecho torrencial, y el estruendo que provenía del techo de chapa hacía imposible poder escuchar lo que decía la TV o inclusive entablar conversación en la mesa, por lo que todos comían en silencio.

El hombre comía también, pero casi distraídamente a pesar del hambre. Tenía una sonrisa en la cara...

 
image
Picture from ‘El futbol es una excusa 
 
Technorati Tags: ,

5 comments:

  1. Este post, es subliminal?
    O es un post a lo que venga?
    Es muy bueno, as usual, pero... debo leer entre lineas?
    You know what I mean.
    "Borombombom... borombombom... para el Santi... la seleccion"

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hay alguna cosa subliminal ahi (como la referencia al chanchullo de Carlitos Martinez (a) Tevez), pero el resto es todo al voleo. Se me dio por escribir una historia y salio esto...

    ReplyDelete
  3. Fue un ataque de inspiración!!
    Por que te la agarraste con Carlitos y no con Marioni por ejemplo? Ehhh?

    ReplyDelete
  4. O con Walter Samuel... que antes se llamaba Walter Luján

    ReplyDelete

Please leave a message after the beep

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...
Created by MyFitnessPal - Free Calorie Counter
Share |