Vdeio Incesti Italiani

Rapa Nui

The jump was long this time. Maybe too much. Four thousand miles in a straight line of the Ocean (WATER) landing on the only chance to guess the rock and lived within a radius of many kilometers. Rapa Nui.

Randomness: can not otherwise be revealed this navel of the earth in a clearly wrong. The same chance that was wrecked here a royal subjects with plants and birds in tow. The megalomaniac towering statues with their backs to the sea seem vain and desperate attempt to defeat this terrible possibilities, here so obvious, to find a reason, at least one direction, and finding in 166 square kilometers. But the space is too little and too loud to ignore Ocean mysterious questions as profound as life and fear.

Only fear can give the power to sculpt the mountains giant stone monoliths of tens of meters and hundreds of tons. Fear and the incredible survival instinct allowed to carry them along the coasts and to erect, with stones and sticks, as powerful protectors, desperate human response to the unknown. In concept, in reality, nothing new compared to the rest of the world. However, it remains the charm of a place so unique, wild and exquisitely human.

But what we know of the history of this land is very little, the fact that when they run out the spaces in America, the Creoles of children conquistadores have addressed the 'attention to Polynesia. The massacre was swift and humiliation continued officially until 1960, when Rapa Nui has ceased to be the courtyard of the Chilean army and its people (400 survivors) are now full citizens.

But we insist that the leap is too long, the gateway to Oceania, another people, another deep and fascinating culture, other massacres. If not quite another story, certainly another dimension. And in all honesty the matter is too much, we prefer to stay with her head between the Andes and from the heart to be crushed by these giant moai . the evening, imprisoned by the tropical rain and continues to play dice, making us realize that once again, roll to roll sooner or later a Yatze exit.

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Chile, Chili, Chiloe

Shaping the content, a task not always easy. But also give substance to form, it can often be a serious problem. We are facing a dual problem here in this country from Chile as absurd and incomprehensible content. Although a point has to leave, both aesthetic and informative.

Chileans are a people punished. Visi sober and clean, looks away, quietly and softly. Imbued with humility governed not seem capable of creative outpourings, despite the their hospitality almost grateful. The sixteen years of military dictatorship, the presence of Pinochet as the supreme head of the armed forces lasts until 1997 and a process of democratization is still made difficult by a militaristic constitution, they seem to be the case. Clear that a president like Allende and Neruda as an ambassador in Europe, spanning the '60s and '70s, were a considerable danger to the stability of the North American empire. Ome c sharp pitch still resonate today in the words of Henry Kissinger, then-undersecretary of state for president Nixon ( "I do not see why we should just sit in hand at the sight of a country that is becoming common because of the irresponsibility of its people "). Add to this, then the isolation geogr AFICO and understand why the Chileans now appear as forms of themselves.

But the young, the tradeoff here is Dante. Orde adolescent, musicians and poets who filled bars and public spaces, intellectuals and their emulators that analyze and beers problems, loose cannon personality that stain the streets and neighborhoods. This is the first generation fully freedom, the daughter of a generation of prisoners, which seems to exist a tacit agreement to ban the ban, a world at your disposal.

obvious, perhaps, the content, except that in this country exists only North and South as the sun sets in China.

(in order to understand this part, we recall that the following letters in the alphabet are pronounced the English way: ch = ci, ll = gl, que = that , here = who)

To reach the island of Chiloe you have to cross the Chacao channel arriving in the town, Chacao. The colectivo then proceed eastward, passing through Caulin and Ancud.

then descend to the south, leaving Quetalmahue and Pumillahue overlooking the Pacific. After the mysterious Manao, Linao Lliuco and finally arrived in Quemchi , where you can admire the island Caucahuè . Proceeding south you will touch the unnecessary Tenaùn but will open the doors of the pretty Dalcahue . From here, thanks to a bridge, you can roam almost freely on ' Isla Quinchao , group Chaulinec , and visit the capital Achao . But it certainly will not want to stop here, and then with another colectivo you travel to the eternal Chonchi . At this point, instead of going on the island Puqueidòn , you will turn to the east, where you can enjoy the fresh water lakes and Hullin Cucao . To complete the visit, and the tongue twister, you should touch the extreme south of the iso and admire the two towns and Queilen Quellón. For the more fearless, 's Isla Latécoère and Yatac Punta, where you can take a boat or Chacabuco Chaiten.

A final warning: do not get close to the lagoon or Chaiguata Caleta Quiutil . Lost souls seem to have been spotted by tourists dyslexic.

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America can not be understood apart from its mystical and magical side

La Negra not stand to have fingernails longer than a few millimeters. Every day before the fire, devotes half an hour of his time to file them with a piece of sandpaper and clean the sand mixed with silica that accumulates in the spaces left by the thin skin.

La Negra has seven children, five and two its not his. Each knows the story, the emotions and the shape of the scars that life has left him.

The sky is clear, it can be seen even through the glass dirty stuck in the mud wall that protects his room. It's cold, but there is still light and duende, mischievous imps, are still far away.

La Negra spends most of the day in bed, with his back against the wall and his hands busy to decorate cards and rectangles of fabric. His mind runs away as fast as her fingers ply thread and needle while his mother's heart is suffering, full of magic, the children away.

Sometimes a few words, bursts of speech, the reach, Penelope eternal, dragging it into reality. Then he gets up, approaches the fire, warming a mate herbal farming and realizes that it's already dark outside. It prepares for its meaning to ward off evil duende approaching the house. Alely, black dog, will help in this task, as faithful every night.

La Negra does not believe in magic, but it can cure evil with a jute thread. Baudelaire Rimbaud does not know either but it keeps the heat. Bears six silver rings at the hands of a somewhat 'opaque as the color of his eyes while bronze skin seems carved from the smoke that sucks almost constantly.

So back in bed, and she senses rounder as far as he insinuates in the difficult communication with the duende out there. No one knows if he sleeps, dreams or waking.

Negra Oh, oh American heart!

Angel of the nails long and dirty hands. The rest of the body looks clean although it is covered by a large and majestic blue poncho-Argentine. Appears out of nowhere, the dark blue spot in the garden where green-brown houses mo. Drag and drop a big bag full of hay, dinner for his fiery horse that lives in the same courtyard.

Angel has a gray beard and unkempt, a receptacle of some kind of spices, which around lips swollen and purple. The same approach that the horse's ear and began to whisper that perhaps words. Serrano, this is the name of 'animal , neighing and responds in a genuine dialogue hallucinatory. When the attention of the horse is captured entirely by the food, the Angel come to us.

It comes with a bow and an equally elegant movement brings out the endless folds of poncho a tambourine without bells. With the same elegance also appears a dark glass bottle and plain, from which two quaff burning gulps. A magic potion, he said, "Para el sentimiento enfocar" . At this point, accompanied with a pace and raw power, begins to sing his story.

Lost love, lost her son, found the horse and wagon and painted wooden covers. He then began the journey to his homeland, Argentina eternal, nine years in the moors, people, wine, ghosts, stories, elves, mountains, shepherds, tears and legends. The wide brim of his hat Coya vibrates in unison with his voice hoarse, shouted and unstable.

And so we know the tia Selva, the dog is so fat that is impregnated psychologically. The buxom women and maternal Mendoza. The spirits that protect the bay of Ushuaia. The saga of the large family Lorca, 18 children endowed with the most bizarre. And with its ability to singer, magician and illusionist we find ourselves protagonists of his poetry, and we look stunned and naked in his speech.

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