excerpt
Below the village was the plain, with running waters for irrigation.
The villagers were divided into two different castes: one of the fields
and the other of the mountains. The patriarch of each family owned
a part of the land in the plain and its water, a piece of Earth, which he
took good care of, and in which he planted the best seed and used the
best fertilizer. The only village complaint was about the water: there
was never enough, just as their luck was not enough; thus, the water
was always the subject of arguments and fights.
“Ah, my poor village,” sighed Demetre as they got nearby. It was
as though he came here for the first time in his life.
“Uncle, has it really been three years since you were here last?”
“Yes, exactly, and you cannot imagine how much I have longed
to return.”
The car entered the village square that was surrounded by
houses and two coffee shops. A group of children with red cheeks
and bright eyes gathered around the car, closely examining it with
admiration. Most of them wore hoods and galoshes, playing in the
square that was full of puddles into which the children splashed all
day long.
The first impressions, the first greetings, and the sweet feeling
of being reunited after all this time overwhelmed Demetre, although
not so much for Hermes, who was here not that long ago. At the coffee
bar, the people who knew them and even those who didn’t welcomed
them, with evident joy, and asked them to sit down to have a glass of
brandy.
The mayor of the village was also there, and he welcomed them
with an official announcement. The mayor was a high school graduate,
a fact that put him higher up on the social scale than others, since
most people at this time of history didn’t go to high school, giving up
their studies to work in the fields and to herd the goats and sheep in
the mountains; however, the mayor was well educated based on the
standards of these people; he could write without being embarrassed
about his spelling, vocabulary, or grammar;
Libros Libertad 