Intro:
I hope you are all doing well. This is another story I'll be uploading, and I would really appreciate it if you could show it some support. Without further ado, let's begin.
Prologue: Memories Among Humitas
We were at a family dinner with my mother's relatives. When it was time for dinner, the aroma of the food flooded the entire house.
AUNT: "Angelito, come here so I can serve you your humitas."
ME: "Yes! They look delicious."
AUNT: "It's thanks to your help with the dough that they were finished faster. Sit down and eat. Do you want the cheese ones or the chicken ones?"
ME: "Let's see... I think I prefer the cheese ones."
AUNT: "Excellent choice. Sit down and enjoy them."
ME: "Thank you, Auntie."
After calling my siblings and my other aunts, we settled down to eat. My parents weren't there; they had left us there to help with the preparations, as that day was my aunt's 59th birthday. At the table sat my two siblings, my six aunts, and my grandmother Angela. My uncle was also there, though he left quickly. Suddenly, his phone started ringing.
GRANDMOTHER: "Son, leave the phone and come eat."
UNCLE: "Oops, sorry Mom, but work is calling and I have to leave right away. I'll be back later."
GRANDMOTHER: "Alright, son, but wait for me to pack thirty humitas for you and your kids."
UNCLE: "Okay, but hurry up, I don't have much time."
My aunts whispered that he could serve himself; my grandmother was already 68 years old and shouldn't be handling hot things in such a rush. I agreed: my uncle was taking advantage of my grandmother's kindness and, instead of helping, he just rushed her.
When we finished dinner, my older brother—who was about 14—asked the birthday girl where she had been born and what her life had been like. As my aunt told the story, her sisters added details she had forgotten. My sister soon got bored and started playing on her phone, but I, at seven or eight years old, stayed in a corner, hypnotized by the tale.
Birth in the Highlands of Cajamarca
PERU, CAJAMARCA – 1967
"I was born in the most remote part of the city of Cajamarca, in an area of hills and vast fields. Our hut made of adobe stood there. Back then, there were no cars, and we had to walk five hours to reach the city.
The curious thing was that we had so much land that our neighbors were two or three hours away from our little hut. Almost no one visited us because they had to cross many rivers, fields, and hills to reach us.
According to my grandmother, I was born on a rainy night. Since we were so isolated, my maternal grandparents arrived a day early to see my mother because they lived quite far away. My grandmother, who was a midwife, helped her. They were there for two hours while my mother gave birth for the first time. It was a very difficult labor, but after that time, I was finally born. Upon seeing me, my mother rejoiced and named me Empera, which in our family's dialect means... Queen."
(My brother approaches the aunt)
BROTHER: "Auntie, can you serve me two tamales?"
AUNT: "Yes, dear."
ME: "No, Auntie, keep telling the story, I'll go get them."
AUNT: "Alright, my cholito."
AUNT: "Where was I?"
ME: "At what your name means."
AUNT: "Right."
My brother made some noise and I didn't hear perfectly, but I heard something about "my light," "my sun," or "shining," or something like that... or Queen.
The Aunt's Tale: Legacies and Absences
"When I was born, right after my mother pronounced my name, she took her last breath and died. My grandfather and my father went to bury her; they performed a ritual to a deity—I don't remember if it was to Pachamama or the god Inti, since back then they had never heard of God or Jesus.
After my mother's death, my grandmother took charge of breastfeeding me until I stopped taking milk, as she had also just had a son. In those days, people got engaged very young; also, society was very chauvinistic, and it wasn't well-seen for a man to care for a child.
However, according to my grandmother, my father mourned my mother deeply. She said he loved her very much, even though they had married very young—15 or 16 years old—due to an alliance between families. Thanks to that union, we owned many fields, as both families were wealthy.
Two years passed since my mother's passing, and my father became engaged to another woman, someone who did not belong to my maternal grandparents' circle. By marrying again, my grandparents no longer had a reason to keep helping him; since my mother had died, the alliance was broken. The grandparents from both sides spoke, and my father had to return the lands, causing our fields to become much smaller. Now, the nearest neighbor was thirty minutes away, as my mother's side of the family was much wealthier than my father's.
With time, my father changed. Before my stepmother arrived, he was very loving toward me, but after the alliance broke and he remarried, he stopped being that way. My stepmother filled his head with ideas that maybe I wasn't his daughter. She used to go to the city every Sunday... you see, my stepmother had been my mother's best friend and had been in love with my father since they were young.
Because of the arranged marriage, they couldn't be together. It was then that my father gradually began to stop recognizing me as his daughter. He no longer treated me as his child, but as his servant.
But the worst part was with my stepmother. I was with her almost all the time because my father went away to work, as his family's lands were not as fertile as my grandfather's. My stepmother began to mistreat me more and more. She calmed down a bit when she became pregnant. By that time, I was already 7 years old."
And while the aunt was still speaking, my parents arrived.
Author's Note:
This is the new story I want to bring you. I would love for you to support it by sharing it with others. I might take a bit longer to upload this and my other story because I don't remember all the details perfectly, and also because I am in the middle of exam week.
NEXT CHAPTER: A RAY OF HOPE
Thanks you