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14/15 SANGRE DE MESTIZOS de Augusto Céspedes (La Paraguaya) — Transcript

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0:01"Sangre de mestizos" by Augusto
0:04Céspedes. The Paraguayan Woman. That
0:09photograph of a woman belonged to a
0:12dead Paraguayan. Lieutenant Paucara had
0:17obtained it one afternoon, after the
0:19surprise attack in which the "pilas"
0:22occupied a 400-meter sector of the
0:25Bolivian trenches west of Nanawa and
0:27reached the path leading to Fortín
0:30Agua Rica, only to be machine-gunned at
0:33that point by a Bolivian reinforcement
0:36section that had arrived just in time
0:39under Paucara’s command. He had
0:45personally operated the machine gun,
0:48firing at some bluish shapes he spotted
0:50200 meters away among the branches,
0:53under which one remained. The "pilas"
0:59disappeared, but from further away,
1:01throughout the morning and into the
1:04early afternoon, the mewling of gunfire
1:06continued to sharpen among the leaves.
1:11A hundred meters away, a motionless
1:14lump could be seen, vague as a smear of
1:17bluish paint on the yellowish earth,
1:20trapped by the rough mesh of ashen
1:22branches and leaves that created a
1:25leaden ensemble. They observed it that
1:30afternoon with an artilleryman's sight:
1:32dark hair and a soldier's uniform. But
1:36what was peculiar were the feet, the
1:38legs, the footwear. Footwear, a strange
1:43thing for a Paraguayan private and a
1:46sure sign, rather, of military rank.
1:51It's an officer. Yes, Lieutenant, an
1:54officer. A dead officer was a valuable
1:59catch to add to the enemy casualty
2:02report. Once the shooting calmed, he
2:05ordered them to work on the corpse. Two
2:09soldiers, crawling under the bushes,
2:12pressing themselves against the ground
2:15every time random fire headed their way
2:18, reached the dead man and, tying a
2:21strap to him, dragged him, opening a
2:24furrow in the burning sand until they
2:27dumped him into a wide pit at the foot
2:30of the observation post. It was an
2:35officer. His face was rubbed with dirt
2:38and his eyes were wide open, coated in
2:40dust. The skin of his right cheek had
2:45been torn off by thorns during the
2:47dragging, resembling countless hairy
2:50moles covering the black flies drawn to
2:53his blood. They searched him, finding
2:58in his tunic pockets letters addressed
3:01to Lieutenant First Class Silvio
3:02Ezequiel. And in the buttoned pocket of
3:08his blouse, a folded envelope from
3:10which they extracted a small notebook,
3:13a small tissue-paper package with a
3:15lock of black hair, and a woman's
3:17photograph. "To my love, in memory of
3:24your love," and an initial "A" were
3:27written on the back. "Take him further
3:32back and bury him," he ordered. Wrapped
3:35in a blanket, two soldiers carried him
3:38away with his cortege of flies at
3:40sunset. Lieutenant Paucara kept the
3:44letters in a box, but he put the
3:46photograph and the silk package into
3:49his wallet. Neither on that day nor on
3:54the following ones did he look at it
3:56again, but as the heat of battle cooled
3:59, he returned to his post: a hole
4:01opened in the shade of a dense thicket,
4:04a kilometer behind the trenches, which
4:07stretched in an arc of over 20 km into
4:10the heart of the forest, trying to
4:12encircle Nanwa. There, he pulled out
4:17the photograph and gazed at it intently
4:19. A beautiful young woman with a tumble
4:24of thick, black, loose hair that gave
4:26the impression of falling with a roar
4:29onto her shoulders. The outline of her
4:35pale, slightly rounded face gave her a
4:38childish expression pinned by the black
4:41dot of her lips, but her immense eyes,
4:44surrounded by shadows, belied that
4:47childishness, looking straight ahead
4:50with a warm, brilliant darkness like
4:53grapes. He was enchanted by the figure.
5:00The monotony of the trench warfare in
5:02the forest, where the dust of a slow
5:05and tenacious funeral procession clung,
5:08let the hours pass, riveted one after
5:11another by the periodic hammering of
5:13machine-gun bursts and rifle fire.
5:19Lying on his camp bed, with his head
5:21toward the light that filtered through
5:23the opening in the roof of the hole,
5:25which was formed of thick quebracho
5:27logs. Bored with reading the same
5:32magazines or sleeping, he contemplated
5:34the photograph, from whose smooth
5:36surface his thoughts evaporated like
5:39water from a lake. Just as in distant
5:45times he would watch the rain fall on
5:48gray afternoons of peace through a
5:50classroom window at the military
5:52academy, near his desk, until the
5:54German professor cut his ecstasy short
5:56with a "what are you looking at, cadet?
5:58" He forgot the dead man covered in
6:05moles. He did not remember his name,
6:08but the photo appeared in his
6:10afternoons like a window. Like Alicia,
6:16Agar, Antonia, around the pale unknown,
6:20a mysterious life awakened, lost to him
6:24just as it was to the dead man. From
6:30the photo before his half-closed eyes,
6:33he fashioned a motion picture, ideally
6:37detaching the composition from various
6:40movements, and not just ideally.
6:44Sometimes the stranger herself would
6:47project an imperceptible smile. From
6:51her hair, an imperceptible breeze would
6:54draw out new glows, and her serene eyes
6:56became caressing, penetrating the
6:59mental twilight where they drew forth
7:02undefined longings and strange memories
7:04. Memories that had lost their shape to
7:09melt into a dark and indistinct
7:11sensation awakened at the reflection of
7:14the present figure. Lieutenant
7:18Paucara’s life had known nothing but
7:20superficial romantic flings. Almost an
7:25adolescent, he had jumped from military
7:28practice in the La Paz ravines of
7:31Calacoto or the frigid pampas of Viacha
7:33, to the scorched plains of the hot
7:36Chaco, covered in infinite, taciturn
7:38trees, as sad as a funeral under the
7:41sun. Those figures were becoming
7:46clearer, brought closer to the optical
7:49angle of the mysterious photograph. And
7:53there was Chela, with her short black
7:55bob clinging to her cheeks and an
7:57imprudent laugh in the darkness of the
8:00afternoon cinema. Or there was Julia,
8:05the brunette, dressed in an ethereal
8:07mesh dress that plunged into the
8:09dizzying curve of her hips. Olola, who
8:15from her lantern-lit balcony on a
8:18street corner in Churubamba signaled a
8:21difficult alphabet, using her head for
8:24yes, her hair for no, and her fingers
8:28for numbers. To him, erect in his
8:32slate-blue wool uniform, standing
8:35athletically tall, acting as a sentinel
8:38on the corner like a lighthouse in a
8:40sea of Indians. And finally, there was
8:45the tallest and most desired, Toñita,
8:48the ungrateful girlfriend of his
8:50vacations in Punata, where he was from,
8:53who would tell him, "I don't like that
8:57you're a soldier, but it's strange. I
9:01like your uniform and I like you
9:03separately." And putting the military
9:08cap over her eyebrow, she would laugh
9:10with her wide eyes and her cruelly
9:13tasty mouth. She liked to let a lock of
9:16hair fall over one side of her face,
9:19acquiring a perverse seduction of a bad
9:22woman. And when she threw her hair back
9:26, revealing her neck and parting her
9:29lips, she was even more provocative in
9:32every way, even when she crossed her
9:35legs violently in a triumphant stride;
9:38the black Zelia abandoned him for a
9:41lawyer from Cochabamba. He had a
9:45snapshot of her as a sub-lieutenant.
9:48Toñita with the military cap and he,
9:51upright with his chest puffed out. He
9:54lost the snapshot in La Paz. Already in
9:58his military training, when initiated
10:01at a local brothel, he met another
10:05woman, Violeta, tiny and encased in an
10:08electric blue dress that shimmered over
10:12her minuscule breasts, and who called
10:15him first, Mr. Lieutenant, then Soldier
10:18, and later, snub-nosed Paco. A
10:24Syrian-Palestinian orangutan, with huge
10:27arms exhibiting an Asian drunkenness,
10:30offended Violeta's neatness with
10:33improper gestures that stirred the
10:35cadet’s gallantry. Drunk, too, from
10:40having ingested two glasses of
10:41house-made whiskey. They started
10:46throwing punches, the orangutan being
10:49knocked down, whom Violeta finished off
10:51with a masterful blow from her slipper,
10:54and then, having Paucara sit on her
10:56knees, she promoted him to colonel.
11:01Look at that man, what a stud. I like
11:05the snub-nose. Will you be my husband?
11:08My little snub-nose. He was her husband
11:11. When she left for Chile, she also
11:15gifted him a large photo and a long
11:17dedication that stayed in La Paz. He
11:21had no more memories or photos. All
11:25those women found so superficially had
11:27not left him wounded, and from the most
11:30beloved and ungrateful one, there only
11:32came to him from time to time the
11:34sensual evocation of her dark and
11:37shining flesh during the carnal crises
11:39of campaign chastity. But he possessed,
11:46instead, the portrait of the absent
11:48Paraguayan woman, and superimposed and
11:51condensed all others upon her, fixing
11:53them in those black eyes and in the
11:56adolescent face framed by hermetic,
11:58sonorous hair. He left the Nanagua
12:03sector and was transferred to Aliuatá.
12:08The photograph, incorporated into his
12:10intimacy as something legitimate and
12:13inseparable, was kept next to the
12:15silk-embroidered charm his mother had
12:17urged him to always wear on his chest,
12:19which he now carried in his wallet. It
12:23was one of the few things he saved
12:25during the feverish days of the siege
12:28of Campovía. His life, set ablaze,
12:32accepted without feeling it the fact of
12:35his romantic relationship with that
12:37unknown, silent woman—the distant
12:40Paraguayan—lodged in the intimacy of
12:42his wallet as the only woman in a void
12:45that others had not filled, neither
12:47with their bromide images nor their
12:49love. In his sweat-soaked wallet, the
12:55presence of the marvelous object became
12:57as natural as if he had obtained it as
13:00a voluntary gift from the absent woman,
13:02rather than at the cost of a homicide.
13:08It became familiar and dear to him like
13:10an old companion from peacetime,
13:12brought into his arid loneliness,
13:15prisoner of the blood-stained sands. In
13:20the immense homosexuality of the jungle
13:22, that photo was the only sign of a
13:25woman. He hadn’t seen women for two
13:31years, but in May of 1934 the Bolivian
13:37line had reached the outskirts of
13:39Ballivián, and one of those days, the
13:42field telephones carried a sensational
13:45piece of news through the forest. It
13:50spread from division commands to the
13:53regiments, from there to the companies,
13:55passing through artillery posts, supply
13:58depots, engineers, and medics.
14:03Delegations of ladies from the cities
14:05were visiting the line. Hello, hello,
14:09Paucará, what are you saying, son? He
14:13says there are women in Ballivián,
14:15hundreds of women. Women, really? Have
14:21you seen them? Hello? I haven't seen
14:24them, but they say they're stunning,
14:26especially the ones from Santa Cruz.
14:31And they’re our own, right? Man,
14:34they're the best of society. Women,
14:39representing warmth, the sensuality of
14:42life that flooded the planet while
14:44excluding the Chaco, that misogynistic
14:47island of uniformed ascetics. There was
14:52complete tranquility on the line
14:54because the Paraguayan army, having
14:56recovered from the disaster at
14:58Conchillas, had only just begun to
15:00fortify positions 12 km from Ballivián
15:03. One scorching morning, the convoy
15:07reached the regiment's sector. Paucara,
15:12bathed and dusted with talc, wearing
15:15his belt and pistol, waited on the
15:18trail near the company command. A
15:23chorus of horns from cars and trucks
15:25made its appearance. At the top of the
15:29first truck, two youthful faces
15:30blossomed under enormous straw hats.
15:34Behind them, other women appeared. To
15:38descend, one threw off her hat and her
15:41light hair burst into blonde radiance.
15:45In an instant, the post was filled with
15:48women, officers, chiefs, and shirkers.
15:52He heard crystalline voices. So much
15:56dust. Look at your eyelashes. And yours
16:00, and yours. Lieutenant Paucara was
16:05introduced, one of our best officers.
16:10Pleased to meet you, a pleasure. He
16:13noticed the blonde's blue eyelashes,
16:16like two aces. And the brunette, who
16:22had a large scarf tied under her chin,
16:25had pupils of absolute blackness and a
16:27fragrance of perfume. They were all
16:31wearing city clothes. In the middle of
16:35the rugged mountain, the presence of
16:38the women renewed in Paucara the pure
16:41feeling of the first man discovering
16:43such a mysterious work in the same
16:46nature that had also formed the trees,
16:49the lizards, and the Indians. In single
16:54file, they entered the path toward the
16:56trenches. Paucara, behind the blonde,
17:01tenderly inhaled the perfume of her
17:03supernatural proximity, looking at her
17:06as a being almost not belonging to the
17:08human species. At the line, the girls
17:14plunged into the trenches, glorious to
17:17feel watched by hundreds of soldiers
17:20who emerged from the underground,
17:22shaggy, silent, troglodytic, to
17:25contemplate these exquisite and
17:27inaccessible animals, the unreality of
17:30whose passage did not fade even with
17:33the cigarettes they distributed. The
17:39corroded thickets of the Chaco seemed
17:41flowered. Where are the Paraguayans?
17:47Over there. And he pointed to the
17:50distant, gray mass of the grove on the
17:53horizon. "So far," one said with some
17:58disappointment. In a machine-gun
18:02position to show her, Paucara entered
18:04the nest with the blonde. The rest of
18:08the entourage remained outside. This is
18:12a heavy Vickers, the lieutenant
18:14explained. The barrel, the cooler, the
18:18belt goes through here, it stretches
18:21twice here, and that's it. The handles
18:25to fire. No, this is the trigger. Do
18:29you want to fire? It's 300 rounds per
18:32minute. Next to the girl in the dimness
18:35of the nest, Paucara felt a cruel
18:38intimacy. As she leaned over, he
18:41glimpsed the white rise of her breasts.
18:45How cool they must be, he thought. He
18:49felt an unknown anguish. Grab the
18:53handles. Look over there. Now you are
18:56going to press the trigger. A little
18:59bit, then release, and another little
19:02bit, that's it. Tran tran tran tran.
19:08Three bursts broke the peace of the
19:10morning. A chorus of laughter and
19:14comments filled the trench, and other
19:17girls came in to fire. An hour later,
19:21in a twisting of feverish paths
19:24scorched by discs of sun, they reached
19:27the command. In the shade of a shed
19:31submerged in the midday glare, when the
19:34women took off their hats and bared
19:37their arms, it seemed as if they were
19:39performing an act of total baring. The
19:44glare turned arms and faces into bluish
19:47jasper. They ate lunch, they danced to
19:51the sound of the military band. Paukara
19:55, upon taking his chosen one in his
19:58arms to start the fox-trot and feeling
20:00the weight of her breast against his
20:03chest, felt seized by a virginal
20:05trembling. An unbreakable silence
20:09invaded him. The girl asked him to help
20:14her remove twigs and burrs from her
20:17hair, a task he performed voluptuously.
20:22At 3 o’clock, they left. The officers
20:25went out to the trail to see off the
20:28caravan. Good luck. Goodbye, see you
20:33soon. Look, look, an officer whispered
20:40to Paukara. Look, brother. As she
20:46climbed onto the truck, one of the
20:48girls struggled to detach her skirt
20:51from a hook on the crate, meanwhile
20:53revealing her garter and a tanned strip
20:56of skin on her wide thigh. See you
21:01later. The cars roared one by one,
21:07straw hats blooming atop the trucks.
21:11White hands threw abstract kisses at
21:14the trail and disappeared, taking their
21:16mystery with them. The command square
21:21was left more deserted than ever. Some
21:26officers, a man from Santa Cruz from
21:28the command, and two artillerymen moved
21:31to a supply bunker to finish off the
21:33provisions left over from the party.
21:38They drank. Two years without a woman,
21:44two years, son. The same as in Viacha,
21:49just the same, buddy. In Viacha, there
21:52were ladies. When I go to La Paz, I’m
21:56going to stay in bed well-accompanied,
21:58eight days without leaving. What do you
22:03say about that, brother? But, does that
22:06wonder called a woman exist in this
22:08world? Attention, listen up. Company
22:13order. Soldiers will sleep at attention
22:17tonight. Having them come to boost our
22:21morale is fine, but not this much.
22:24Dissonant laughter followed these
22:27phrases, toward the edge of the forest
22:30that reclaimed its shy solitude,
22:32abandoned by the fleeting white beings.
22:37The soldiers drank as if stunned,
22:40inhabiting a hot atmosphere that
22:43twisted their faces, where deviated and
22:46yellowish eyes emerged. An hour later,
22:52the officers, stripped from the waist
22:55up, red as devils, gestured and spoke
22:57before a jar of pisco. Bottoms up,
23:03brother, cheers, cheers. Bottoms up,
23:07all of it. Don’t be no coward here.
23:12Drink, then. Well, I don't feel like it
23:16. I poured it, I poured it. You want a
23:21fight with me? You want a fight with me
23:23? Are you a man? Paukara intervened.
23:29Come on now, man, no. We’re among
23:32friends. I’m no friend of half-breeds
23:36. Cholo, you're man enough to take a
23:40few shots with me. They started
23:46punching and then rolled on the ground
23:49locked together, their bare backs
23:51clawing at the thorns. Don't be brutes.
23:57What's up? But what's up? They pulled
24:01them apart. How ugly between comrades.
24:07There's the famous camaraderie of the
24:09campaign. Looks like they were fighting
24:12over women. No, brother, you are my
24:16brother. You're a real man. Meet
24:21Lieutenant Paucara. Cheers. Before
24:25passing through our sector, 10,000
24:27pesos upfront. Let the attack come,
24:30brother. Let it come. Here is Perez.
24:36Cheers to the death. To the Perez
24:39regiment, to the Chuquisaca regiment,
24:43to the vanguard. At nightfall, they
24:48parted ways. Paucara, in his
24:51semi-lethargic command, received the
24:53report of no novelties. He gave his
24:56orders. Patrol the canyon well. They
25:00could get in through here, especially
25:02at dawn. Yes, Lieutenant. He drank a
25:07mug of water. He could feel the night.
25:10The warm atmosphere, almost like a
25:13woman or a caress, was filled with a
25:15sensual sense. He lay down. He was
25:20sweating and a lump of darkness, sweat,
25:23and collapsing thoughts fell over his
25:26senses like volcanic steam. From the
25:30depths of that volcano, the dream of an
25:33erotic chase emerged. A woman with
25:37blonde hair and a girlish face, with
25:40her skirt tucked up to her waist,
25:42riding a machine gun barrel. Paucara
25:47approached her from behind, put his
25:50arms under her armpits and felt her
25:53belly, but it wasn't a woman, but his
25:57assistant, sexualized and wearing silk
26:00stockings. Several somber soldiers
26:04watched him in silence. He then went
26:08out into the trench, which had
26:10transformed into an alley with
26:12plaster-painted houses full of doors
26:15open between the floor and the wall. He
26:18entered one of them. The door led to a
26:23canyon where he found a woman, the
26:26Paraguayan with melancholic eyes. He
26:30hugged her, kissed her, and fell onto
26:34her on the grass, but he couldn't
26:37undress her. He desperately tried to
26:41possess her through her dress, while
26:44the Paraguayan's face became covered
26:46with moles moving like flies and her
26:49teeth disappeared from her mouth. He
26:54woke up stifled by the heat, turned on
26:56his side. The kiss of sweat drooled
27:00over his body. The lecherous image had
27:05not fled with the sleep. Half-asleep,
27:11he heard the girls of the morning
27:13laughing and also heard the music band,
27:15clear and piercing. He threw off the
27:19sheet and rolled onto his other side. A
27:23lukewarm ghost's kiss stung his flesh
27:26with the absence of other flesh. He
27:30turned onto his back, searching his
27:33skin for the memory of the women he had
27:35possessed. Two muscular memories fled
27:39from his chest, leaving only the air to
27:42close around his empty hands, while
27:45beneath his eyelids a round of naked
27:47women offered themselves to him. The
27:53incandescence of his nape congested his
27:56whole head and heated his body until,
27:59shrinking in his frenzy of furious
28:01searing, he completed the simulacrum of
28:05his terrible dream. Through the trunks
28:10of the buraco, the light of dawn was a
28:14dirty, blurred paper of shadows: his
28:17youth. Shortly after, in Ballivián, he
28:21made the longed-for contact with one of
28:24those tiny prostitutes with flattened
28:27faces and black breasts, collected from
28:30Yacuiva and Charagua. She conjured the
28:34figure of the Paraguayan girl in her
28:36harmless, picture-perfect virginity. In
28:40June, waves of Paraguayan assaults
28:43crashed against his sector. On one
28:47occasion, a stock grenade fell five
28:49meters from him, nearly burying him,
28:52causing no more damage than embedding
28:54sand particles in his skin. And later,
29:00while running across an immense sector
29:02raked by fire, the orderlies
29:04accompanying him were killed, and a
29:06bullet that would have crushed him
29:09without wounding him was deflected by
29:11his belt buckle. His omen of courage.
29:17These events added to his fame as a
29:20lucky man, but he attributed his
29:23fortune more to a magical virtue of the
29:26mysterious scar. He declared this one
29:32October night in 1934 at Fortín
29:34Huachalla, when, gathered in a pawiichi
29:38with some comrades under the light of a
29:41gasoline lamp against whose glass
29:44flying insects collided, he chatted and
29:48drank a toxic concoction with a
29:50cocktail name, passing an aluminum mug
29:54from hand to hand. As he pulled some
29:59notes from his wallet, he dropped the
30:02photo, which one of those present
30:04picked up, standing up to examine it in
30:07the lamp's light. Well, Zeche, let's
30:14see, let's see, wow, to my love, a
30:17souvenir of your love. This can't be
30:20for you. Who did you take it from? It's
30:26a Paraguayan girl. Paukara informed him
30:29. Paraguayan, will you give her to me?
30:34I'll put her in my album, one said,
30:37making a move to put the photo in his
30:39pocket. No, no, give it back to me.
30:44Leave it, man. I already put it away.
30:48No, I said no. Don't mess around, no.
30:54And Paukara emphasized his refusal,
30:56approaching the comrade with such an
30:58angry attitude that the man pulled the
31:00photograph from his pocket and threw it
31:03on the table, saying disparagingly, "
31:05Hey, there you have it, damn it, it's
31:07not like she's your wife." Leave him be
31:11, man, it might come in handy when they
31:14take him prisoner to Asunción. With
31:16that photo, he'll be getting free room
31:19and board. "Hey," Paukara said
31:22energetically, "I'm not that bad.""I
31:27used to take out seven 'pilas' with my
31:29pistol." Then, lowering his voice, "No,
31:33comrades, I swear, even if you laugh, I
31:36don't want to part with this photo.""I
31:40love it dearly, it's my good luck, it's
31:43my mascot." One November afternoon,
31:48during the days of the siege of El
31:51Carmen, Paraguayan patrols roaming the
31:54woods between that place and the
31:56Cochabamba ravine surprised three
31:59yellowish figures of Bolivian soldiers
32:02cautiously crossing a trail. They
32:06ordered them to surrender. Two of them
32:09jumped and fled into the brush, while
32:11the third fired at the Paraguayans with
32:13his pistol. With a volley, they brought
32:17him down. They approached him slowly.
32:23He was lying face down over a pool of
32:25blood that was growing beneath his
32:27stomach. He had a pistol in his hand. A
32:32soldier gave him a nudge with the
32:33barrel of his rifle. "He's dead.""He's
32:39an officer, Sergeant." They took his
32:43pistol and his boots, and with eager
32:45hands, they fought over his pockets.
32:49One 'pila' found a wallet and opened it
32:52. Papers, a scapular, a small silk
32:55packet, and a woman's photograph. "Ooh,
33:01the Bolivian's woman is pretty." And
33:05Pedro was left a widow, and they
33:09continued their march through the woods
33:11, taking the widow's portrait with them
33:13. Yeah.

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