Hello friends. My name is Pablo and I live in a small kneepit deep in the jungles of Chiapas. Here you I make the stories happy and sad and some other places inbetween. I hope you like! Welcome here in my kneepit!

Saturday, June 30, 2007

death eating potatoes

One day death come to my kneepit.

I ask Juanita for some tortilla bread and I make for him my favourite green potato salad pancake and we eat and make merry for many hours together.

Death he tell me all about how busy he is working up in the northern hills and valleys not too far away, where the gringo pay the army to make the evil with the villages they don’t want up there anymore. This make death so very sad to see some many nice peoples forced to leave their lives, their history behind in the hills for to make money for some peoples many many miles away. Death feel sorry for the young bambinos too who come to him too early, before they have had time to taste the fruits from the tall trees.

After Death had eaten, Pablo give him his hammock for to make a siesta. Pablo watch Mr Death sleeping and seeing him having the bad bad dreams, Pablo hold his hand, and sing him the sweet kookaburrdy lullabye his mamma sing him when he was small, for to make Death sleep better.

Death sleep for many hours. When he wake he stretch his arms and legs. Pablo give him some of his mate de coca drink and Death he feel happy and relaxed. But when he look out the window he see it is already getting dark.

“I am sorry Pablo, but I cannot take you this time. There is much work to do in the village of San Juan and I am late already. I will have to come back for you some other time.”

Pablo said “Don't worry about Pablo senor, I shall be here. Next time you come I welcome you again like the brother I never have."

And with that Death bid farewell to Pablo and headed off northwards towards the echo of gunshots and the drifting smoke of San Juan.

Pablo looking forward very much to next time Mr Death he come, for then Pablo will make for him his special potato leaf stew.
Adios amigos!

1 comment:

the heartful blogger said...

Such a moving story Pablo, only you would be friends with Death...such a big hearted fellow you are.