El Indio Paulino

Part 1

A jump across the desolate plain, amid a cloud of dust, on a nearly imaginary, moved
the truck into the city. It was early morning and it was very cold. The wind, blowing
along the ground, pushing up a thin curtain of steam, lying at night on the plateau.

Squeezed between other Indians, not talking to anyone and making efforts to keep
balance, came Paulino. I had collected in the morning when I started to work,
hunched over wooden plow with an ox dragged obstinacy, and he had ordered up,
without explanation. On the body, crammed with an expression of uncertainty and
fear in his eyes, came others like him. Everyone tried to get away from the gates,
that I gave in the corners and threatened to break dropping their cargo on the
highway. With nothing solid to hold on, the Indians kept his balance and moved
together to one side at every turn, to compensate for the inclination excessive
weight of the truck.

Back to the ranches were together on the tiny piece of garden, plow inert rods, Ox
idle, barren land of the pampas. The Indians were seen without looking and did not
speak. His eyes crossed swiftly through the pile of hard faces and frightened
expressions "Nobody seemed to know where he was not the wearer. The dust
accumulated on their faces, entered the nose, dried the mouth and hurt her eyes.
Above hats and dusty heads protruding, pointing up, the pipes of three rifles. "It will
be again, " thought Pauline-agrarian reform? "The trucks were still, bouncing and
creaking, towards the city. Sore feet back from the effort to maintain balance and
not fall against the gate.

The gunmen, dressed in the city, ties and colored shirts indefinable, talked among
themselves in a language that Paul did not understand.

Looking forward, the road went by between the narrow streets of a village. The
home uniforms, all mud, without windows, with one door in the middle, with
thatched roofs dark, lined along cobblestone street sea. Grim women dressed in
colorful skirts, stealthily crossing the half-deserted village, the children loaded on
the back. A man herding three donkeys laden with firewood in the direction of the
city. Most of the doors were closed.

The truck went into a stall and stopped with a great grinding of brakes on the door
of a chicha. The driver helped me first and then did the three gunmen. From the
ground issued a terse warning.

- No one gets off, dammit!

When the five were gone, Indians looked relieved. Paul took the opportunity to ask a
man who walked by the truck:
- Where are we leading?

"It's manifestation. Will march. The chief partner will speak.

- Is the land reform?

"It's not. He says the revolution has failed.

- And when we go back?

-No. Said that trucks are going to bring.

- And what will we eat?

"Ten thousand Bolivians say they will give.

- And where we will get on the trucks to return?

"That they have to say after the demonstration. The mention of the ten thousand
Bolivians lit a little light in the heart of Paul. The other Indians had followed the
conversation and everyone seemed happy. The idea of going to the city they loved,
especially now that they knew it was only a parade of ten thousand Bolivians. The
tension was gone and even suppressed laughter were heard the murmur of
conversation.

At the door of the chichería appeared one after another the five men, and headed
toward the truck. The three armed rose to the body giving off a strong odor of
alcohol. Jumps again, by the twisted roads of the highlands, dry throat and sore feet.
Paulino was thinking about strange things that had happened in recent years. The
old man Baptist was gone one day never to return. Soon after came a few men of the
city, with banners and notebooks and all the Indians gathered to talk about
something that nobody understood. I had wondered how it had called and they
painted the fingers after they were hit on the leaves of the notebook. At night, the
oldest and those who knew some Castilian gathered to try to remember what had
been said by men of the city, but there was little that could make it clear. Again they
came to the finances of old man Baptist gunmen asked many questions:

- Who is your boss?

Child-Baptist.

- What Baptist?

Child-Baptist.

- Do you beat your boss?

"Your boss, child Baptist.

"I do not understand. I ask if you beat your boss.

"I do not understand.

- Was good to your boss?

"Well it was.

"But I beat her.

"I hit.

"Then it was bad.

Bad it was.

A Paulino asked no more. After the men were wanted to know what they wanted
and asked Nina Marcos who knew some Castilian. Marcos said that the questioners
wanted to know if the Tata Bautista was bad, because the revolution had triumphed
and the nanny had been hidden. said the government would give land to peasants,
and then would give them schools, seeds, medicines, herrsminetas and silver. "its
land reform, " said Nina Marcos. The men returned several times, and the second,
Mark Nina went with them. Since then it was Mark who was speaking in Aymara
explanations. His appearance had changed. Gone were the poncho and sandals had
bartered for tennis shoes. Over time I get to wear a tie and white sunglasses with
tortoise shell rings. Had gained weight and life in the city he was stripped of
hardness in the features, the calluses disappeared from his hands and, one day, Paul
saw him a ring with a blue stone that aroused his jealousy. And with body and
appearance had changed and soul had gone bad, as bad as the Tata Bautista. In the
end, men no longer came. Nina Marcos appeared from time to time, the Indians
gathered and explained again the agrarian reform. "The land, he said, should be for
the work. And revolution has triumphed, the land is now the peasants. Pretty soon
we'll have our land titles signed by the chief partner who is the President of the
Republic . And then we have schools and are going to give money, seeds and
machinery for work. But the government has no money because the thread has been
before the revolution, and we must help. To those who do not help are not going to
give his title, nor are they going to give money or their children go to school. "

Paulino always helped because Marcos Nina was their leader and in charge of taking
the money to La Paz. One day, after explaining the reform land, Marcos had told
them that he was their leader, and that no doubt put it. So when there was money
borrowed or sold Paulino a sheep to help land reform, and when Marcos was called
Nina to put his finger painted on the notebook, be refused. Schools, roads, money,
securities, seeds and machinery would be denied to those who do not help. Paulino
had it in mind. In the end, and Nina Marcos land reform did not explain but which he
received the money and go again.

Part 3

The truck continued its march while Pauline thought. Back from a hill appeared
suddenly in the distance, the skyline. A few scattered buildings marked the place
where the plane departed. Later there was a huge silver ball with spiral stairs going
up. At the entrance to the city, under an arch with large print, had other trucks, all
loaded with Indians who came to the demonstration. In each truck had armed men
waved an some a flag. From the entrance of the city below, the plateau is split and
opened like if he had been a big pit. The bus descended in endless curves, crossing
slums and passed in front of the big factories with chimneys spewing smoke erect.
Paul looked around wide-eyed curiosity. The truck ends in a broad avenue. Emerged
from side streets and Indian truckloads of armed men, from time to time, fired guns
into the air. We noticed the smell of burnt gunpowder and the festive air. Groups of
people, men and women, carrying banners rolled on its staff, some of them with
rifles on their backs, were in the same direction of the trucks.

Far be heard ringing a military band. Finally the bus stopped at the door of a
building. Was the Ministry of Rural Affairs, the same place years ago Pauline had
gone to pick up your title signed by the chief partner.

After one of the visits from Marcos Nina , Paulino had asked him when I handed over
land titles that were of Tata Bautista, and had told him that I had to go to La Paz and
order yours at the Ministry of Rural Affairs . To travel had sold four sheep and on
arrival they had stayed at an inn where he slept on the floor, facing the stars, next to
a pile of oranges in the belt where he had the money so tight she could hardly
breathe. That time was not given the title but was told that soon I would go for the
estate of tata Bautista, the man who had the papers signed by the President. That
had been many years.

Since then, Paul had given money for land reform, for the revolution, for school, for
the union, for the cooperative and for the road. But things continued as before. The
man who had no papers had never appeared in the land of tata Bautista. There was
no school, no way, not cooperative, and the union only met when he came to collect
Marcos Nina.

Outside the door of the Ministry, the Indians unloaded trucks. Thousands of them.
Everyone looked at trying to infuse peace and pretending it was not the first time
they were there. There was talk in Aymara and the words hard and dry, without a
hint of melody, came together in a single rumor. Indians sitting on the sidewalks or
leaning against the walls of the Ministry, chewing coca leaves from side to side of the
mouth.

Suddenly a car stopped and several men came out of the city Is. They spoke quickly
to each other and finally they went up to an empty truck. The Indians stopped
talking and looked around. One of them began to speak screaming. Paul watched his
movements, the abrupt movements of the arms, so I had to gesture, but did not
understand what he was saying. After completing an Indian went up a lot like Nina
Paulino was glad because now they would know what was happening. But the new
address was also in Castilian. When finished, the men got out of the truck and went
by car. Pauline approached a group surrounding a tall Indian and made him
questions:
- What do you say?

"He says the revolution has failed.

- So the reform has ended?

-No. This was a screw revolution. "

- So we're not going to march for agrarian reform?

-No. We will march through the revolution.

- Have you have ten thousand Bolivians?

"Not yet. He says that after the parade.

- Who are pulling shots?

"They are the militants. Militants have been mine.

- To what?

-A march in the demonstration.

- In the land reform is also militia?

-No. They have the nationalization of the mines.

- And since you have given your role?

"Yes, but I did not ask for more companion.

A military band arrived in a truck to help stop the dialogue. Pauline approached a
line that began to form and took his place. It was time to march in the
demonstration. Appeared much 'Indians as Nina Marcos and helped organize the
raucous shouting column. Finally the parade started. Paulino walked confused
among others Indians who had never seen. In a corner and stopped all from a truck,
began to decline long sticks that stability together in pairs, by a strip of white cloth
which had lyrics. A Paulino. was on the side of the column, gave one of the two sticks
and an Indian who was across the street gave him another. On the web blah there
was something written in large red letters. The column came back to move forward.
Before them, the military band played a march, but every Indian walk like I wanted.
Only those who had gone to headquarters marked the passage.

The parade will last long. Paulino walked the streets that he knew was trying to
remember where the Ministry where, upon completion, would give him ten
thousand Bolivians and a place in a truck to go home. As they passed a large square,
with churches and tall buildings, there were many men on a balcony waving his
hands raised, and many people outside the building looking men.
Before people were leaving the bands and the air thundered. its beats. Militants
firing into the air passing their guns and their machine guns, but Paulino was not
afraid. Leaving the plaza, everyone was still marching.

The column followed several blocks yet, but suddenly, it began to dissolve. Some
turned to the square where the men were in the balcony, guided by the sound of the
bands. Others took the side streets. Pauline decided to return to Ministcrio and wait
for the bus. Down the street were many Indians and decided to follow. Finally
arrived, but realizing that no parade was over, I find a place to wait. In the shadow
of a stunted trees on the grass, sat down and taking a handful of coca leaves dc
started to chew parsimoniously. Far away was heard the military bands. For a long
time he had spent the lunch hour.

Among the Indians who had not expected any of the estate of tata Bautista, but Paul
did not feel like talking. He sat in the shade, legs outstretched, with the sweet juice
of the coca sluggish bowels. I had no trouble. And began to lose more people walking
in truckloads. People crossed in front of the Ministry and not stopped to look at the
Indians who were waiting, some sitting on the floor, others in the gardens, some
standing alone or in groups to reach the trucks to return. The militia returned
wearily parade, gun in hand, pointing downward. All the doors were closed, but
some stores had not lowered the shutters on their windows.

The hours passed. On the city began to wind down the cold of the highlands. Paul
thought of the old problems and trying to understand, where would the tata
Baptist?, why following the land reform if the revolution had failed?, why would the
militia of the mines had their roles and the Indians not had?, Where would travel the
man who had the estate papers of tata Baptist who had signed the President?, when
would the trucks to return?

He thought of his home. Arrive at dusk in time for dinner, by the stove, sitting on his
bed inside the house of one room protected from the cold of the highlands, where he
lived with his wife and children. The next day would begin early the business that
had interrupted today to attend the demonstration.

One after another, the Indians left the square in front of the Ministry. Pauline
decided to wait the bus. Above his head, suddenly the light came from a lamppost
and the door of a shop a long strip bright red letters of light. The cars began to move
with the lanterns lit, large strips of tracing the floor as light antennas. To, again, very
cold. Paul realized that he had been alone in the plaza and realized that the truck
would not come. Thought about the inn where he had stayed last time and it was
agreed that he had no money.

Step by step, remade in reverse the route the truck took the road back.
Acknowledged the long walk fireplaces, dirty streets, gates and signs he had seen on
arrival. Music coming out of some houses through open doors, and focuses projected
yellowish spots on the street. Inside, men and women drank and danced. Singing
and crying, preserving the balance by a miracle, they came stumbling drunks. Down,
the city was thriving.

It was already morning when Paulino came home. The feet had swollen from
walking. The head and stomach ached from hunger and thirst. His face and hands
blue with cold. He had walked all night to rhythmic step on the road leading to his
home, crossing villages and deserts, where they shine a light was seen, and long
stretches that night seemed sadder and more desolate than ever. Not even had his
last cigarette and the coca leaves had been chewed while waiting for the truck in
front of the closed door of the Ministry. Throughout the night, fosters more of a
truck had passed by, in the same direction he was following. Paulino had not even
made a gesture to stop because he had no money for passage. Raising clouds of dust,
breaking the silence with the sound of their engines and bodywork rickety, trucks
had overtaken him, loaded to the brim with packages, over which they traveled.
Indian and the other, and had continued without stopping.

At the door of his house, his wife was waiting with astonished eyes beside her,
standing, a child wrapped in colorful rags watched him in silence. Nobody said
anything when Paulino walk out the door and dropped heavily on the bed. Before
sinking into the dream he heard that his wife spoke:

- Where have you been?

-A La Paz.

- What have you done?

- Have I marched. It was demonstration.

- And the Ministry has gone?

"Yes.

- And you have given your role?

"Not yet.