It was the month of December, the month of the Christmas holidays. The vacations had already begun, and at that time the shopping trips were almost daily, sometimes with my mother, sometimes with my sisters.
"Daughters, come with me to buy the ingredients to make the hallacas"
The next day...
"We are going to make the nativity scene; we have to buy the paper and other sheep because some of them broke".
And when my father was paid his Christmas bonus.
"We have to go buy clothes before it is impossible to walk among so many people".
In the Caracas of the 1970s, the popular markets were full of people coming and going through the narrow aisles between the stalls, where not a soul could fit. There, my sisters and I used to buy everything from new clothes to Christmas ornaments, because in these places they were cheaper than in the big stores and shopping malls.
As well as the stores and markets, the streets were quite congested with street vendors, who also took advantage of the time of year when sales were at their peak.
My older sister, who at that time would have been 18 years old, together with my other sister, who was two years younger, and me, the third and the youngest who was a year older, had gone to the Coche Market in the parish where we lived to buy clothes.
The four of us got along very well; we were very united; we supported each other, and above all, we respected the hierarchy.
You must respect and pay attention to your older sister, both at home and in the street, and especially when your father and I are not around.
So my sister, as is the case with many older siblings, was very responsible with the authority and sense of protection that had been entrusted to her by our parents, and we recognized it.
When we arrived at the market, we entered the clothing sales area. Multicolored stalls of pants, shirts, flannels, and dresses are hung on hooks or mannequins to better display the merchandise or folded on counters. We could hardly walk. It took us several hours to find what we wanted, and we left, hot, sweaty and thirsty.
"Let's go home!; it's getting late", my sister told us, before we got caught in heavy traffic".
"But we could have a soda before we go; we are very thirsty," I told her, trying to convince her.
"Okay, but let's go quickly, I'm tired and I want to get home". She grabbed my younger sister by the hand and we went to a bakery and then to the bus stop.
When we arrived, there were many people waiting, and some were pushing each other to get on the buses.
My sister, with one hand holding our younger sister and in the other hand the shopping bags, stood in front of other people, and we stood very close to her with our bags tightly clutched.
"Don't get separated from me." We have to get on fast and be careful with the bags; put them forward because they can be snatched.
The van that arrived at the stop was a small Volkswagen-type low-top model with two doors in the front, the driver's seat, and a larger one next to it for two people. In the back, the doors were sliding, and when they opened, we were right in front of them.
Pushed by my sister and the people behind us, we climbed up and walked down the aisle with our bodies bent to the last seat where the four of us finally sat down. In front of us were two seats of three people each.
These filled up and more people kept climbing up to stand upright and leaning. And there began the annoyance of the passengers and of us as well.
"And how long are they going to let people on?," said one man.
"Close the door so they don't get on," answered the driver reluctantly.
He started the vehicle and started it at such a high speed that the bodies of the passengers who were standing there went to one side, losing their balance.
"Be careful!," shouted a lady, "don't you know how to drive?"
But the driver did not respond and kept going, but because there was traffic he would brake suddenly and we all went forward.
"You are irresponsible, I am going to report you to the transport company," said an old man who was sitting in front of us.
I could see my sister's face and knowing her strong character, unafraid to speak her mind, I knew she was going to explode at some point. Her face was red and her lips were tight. And it didn't take long for her to add fuel to the fire.
She raised her body and shouted to make himself heard
"Look driver! You think you're carrying pigs in this van?".
I immediately thought of the poor pigs being taken to the slaughterhouse and felt bad, but I supported my sister.
The people in front of her turned to see who was saying that and a young woman with a small child sitting on her lap supported her.
"It's true, we are people and some of us are standing up, and there are children who can get hit".
The driver became even more annoyed and replied,
"If you don't like the way I drive you can get off at the next stop"
The tall man, who was touching the roof of the van with his hat, yelled at him, "You'll have to give us our fare back".
My sister didn't think twice.
"Yeah, we'd better get out because you're a bad driver. And you know what, I'm not paying your fare"
The driver stopped the truck and we got out. The driver thought he was leaving us far away. What he didn't know was that we had just arrived at our stop.
The passengers who were stopped got out so that we could get off.
When we got off, we walked side by side and laughed at my sister's mischievousness until we reached our house.
Versión en Español
El chofer enojado
Era el mes de diciembre, el de las festividades navideñas. Ya habían comenzado las vacaciones y en esa época las salidas para realizar compras eran casi a diario, algunas veces con mi mamá, otras con mis hermanas.
Hijas acompásenme a comprar los ingredientes para hacer las hallacas.
Al día siguiente...
Vamos a hacer el nacimiento, hay que comprar el papel y otras ovejas porque se partieron algunas.
Y cuando le pagaban los aguinaldos a mi padre.
Tenemos que ir a comprar la ropa antes de que sea imposible caminar entre tanta gente.
En la Caracas de los años 70, los mercados populares estaban llenos de personas que iban y venían por los estrechos pasillos entre los puestos de venta, donde no cabía ni un alma. Allí, mis hermanas y yo acostumbrábamos comprar desde la ropa para los estrenos, hasta los adornos navideños, porque en estos lugares eran más económicos que en las grandes tiendas y centros comerciales.
Al igual que las tiendas y los mercados, las calles se congestionaban bastante por los vendedores ambulantes que aprovechaban también la época del año de mayor venta.
Mi hermana mayor, que en ese tiempo tendría 18 años, junto con mi otra hermana dos años menor, yo, la tercera y la más pequeña, a la que le llevaba un año de edad, habíamos salido al Mercado de Coche que quedaba en la parroquia donde vivíamos. Para comprar ropa.
Nosotras cuatro nos llevábamos muy bien, éramos muy unidas, nos apoyábamos y sobre todo respetábamos mucho la jerarquía.
Ustedes deben respetar y hacer caso a su hermana mayor, tanto en la casa como en la calle y sobre todo cuando su padre y yo no estemos.
Así que mi hermana, como ocurre con muchos hermanos mayores, era muy responsable con esa autoridad y sentido de protección que le había sido encomendada por nuestros padres y nosotras así lo reconocíamos.
Al llegar al mercado entramos en la zona de las ventas de ropa. Puestos multicolores de pantalones, camisas, franelas, vestidos, colgados en ganchos o en maniquíes, para mostrar mejor la mercancía o doblados sobre mesones. Apenas podíamos caminar. Tardamos varias horas en encontrar lo que queríamos y salimos, acaloradas, con la ropa húmeda de sudor y sedientas.
–¡Vámonos a la casa! Ya es tarde – dijo mi hermana –antes de que nos agarre el tráfico fuerte.
–Pero pudiéramos tomarnos un refresco antes de irnos, tenemos mucha sed, –le dije tratando de convencerla.
–¡Está bien!, pero vamos rápido que estoy cansada y quiero llegar a la casa. –Agarró a mi hermana más pequeña por la mano y fuimos a una panadería y luego a la parada de los buses.
Al llegar había muchas personas esperando y algunos se empujaban para subir a los autobuses.
Mi hermana con una mano agarrando a nuestra hermana menor y en la otra las bolsas de las compras se puso delante de otras personas y nosotras nos quedamos muy cerca de ella también con nuestras bolsas bien agarradas.
–No se separen de mi, tenemos que subirnos rápido y cuidado con las bolsas, pónganlas hacia adelante porque se las pueden arrebatar.
La camioneta que llegó a la parada era un modelo pequeño tipo Volkswagen de techo bajo de dos puertas en la parte delantera, el asiento del chofer y uno más grande a su lado para dos personas. En la parte posterior la puerta eran corredizas y al abrirsoe, nosotras quedamos justamente en frente.
Impulsadas por mi hermana y las personas que estaban detrás de nosotras, subimos y caminamos por el pasillo con el cuerpo inclinado hasta el último asiento donde al fin nos sentamos las cuatro. Delante de nosotras había dos asientos de tres personas cada uno.
Estos se llenaron y más personas siguieron subiendo para quedar parados y en posición inclinada. Y ahí comenzó la molestia de los pasajeros y de nosotras también.
–¿Y hasta cuando van a subir personas?, –dijo un señor
–¡Cierren la puerta para que no suban!, –respondió el chofer de mala gana.
Arrancó el vehículo y lo hizo a una velocidad tan alta que los cuerpos de los pasajeros que iban parados se fueron hacia un lado, perdiendo el equilibrio.
–¡Ten cuidado!, ¿no sabes manejar? Una señora gruesa estaba tratando de agarrarse para no caer.
Pero el chofer no respondía y siguió avanzando, pero como había tráfico frenaba de repente y todos nos íbamos hacia adelante.
–Eres un irresponsable, lo voy a denunciar a la línea de transporte, –dijo un anciano que iba sentado adelante.
Yo le veía la cara a mi hermana y como conocía su carácter fuerte, sin miedo a decir lo que pensaba, sabía que en algún momento iba a explotar. Su cara estaba roja y sus labios apretados. Y no tardó mucho en echarle más leña al fuego.
Levantó su cuerpo y gritó para hacerse escuchar
–¡Mira, chofer! ¿Tú crees que llevas cochinos en esta camioneta?.
Yo pensé de inmediato en los pobres cochinos que llevan al matadero y me sentí mal pero apoyé a mi hermana.
Las personas de adelante voltearon a ver quién decía eso y una joven que llevaba un niño pequeño sentado en sus piernas la apoyó
–Es cierto, somos personas y algunos van parados, y hay niños que pueden golpearse.
El chofer se molestó aún más y contesto.
–Si no les gusta como manejo se pueden bajar en la proxima parada.
El hombre alto que tocaba el techo de la camioneta con su sombrero, le grito – tendrás que regresanos el pasaje.
Mi hermana no lo penso dos veces.
– ¡Si! mejor nos bajamos porque tu manejas muy mal. Y sabes una cosa no te pienso pagar el pasaje.
El chofer detuvo la camioneta y nos bajamos. El creyó que nos estaba dejando lejos. Pero no era asi, porque justamente habíamos llegado a nuestra parada.
Los pasajeros que iban parados se bajaron para que nosotras pudieramos hacerlo.
Al terminar de descender caminamos una al lado de la otra y nos fuimos riendo de la picardía de mi hermana, hasta que llegamos a nuestra casa.
Traducido al inglés en www.deepl.com
This was a nicely constructed CNF, @popurri. You set the scene well. It seems like you and your sisters had a wonderful upbringing and formed very close relationships with each other. Your eldest sister may have added fuel to the fire by commenting on the bus driver's abilities, and further angered him in the process, but it all worked out in your favour. This was a nice little piece of humour to end the story. Watch out in your English translation for gender issues and for age issues. You refer to older sisters who are younger by 2 years or 1 year and that is confusing to the reader. I had to read the paragraph a few times and then stopped trying to work out how old everyone was and just assumed you had mentioned them in age order from oldest to youngest.
Thank you for writing in The Ink Well.
Hello @theinkwell
I really appreciate your comment. I'm glad you liked it.
I got a little tangled up trying to describe the age relationships between my sisters and me. It really was confusing when translating it. That was the order I did it in, oldest to youngest.
Greetings and happy night ✨
Thank you @idea-make-rich for your support.
Greetings
Congratulations @popurri! You have completed the following achievement on the Hive blockchain And have been rewarded with New badge(s)
Your next target is to reach 10000 comments.
You can view your badges on your board and compare yourself to others in the Ranking
If you no longer want to receive notifications, reply to this comment with the word
STOPCheck out our last posts:
Thank you very much @hivebuzz for your support.
Greetings and happy night ✨
Go for it, @popurri! Set your sights on that new target and keep pushing forward. Remember, every small step brings you closer to your goal.
A great family with a very strong bond. You all were raised with good values, such as showing respect to the elders and recognizing hierarchy. It's lovely.
I loved your comment. Thank you very much @fonpet
Greetings and blessings ✨
You and your sisters had a really great relationship. I'm glad the no harm came to you all because of that reckless driving.
What your sister did was smart. You guys got to your destination without paying.
Hello @trexano
Yes she was a sister who loved and protected us.
At that time she thought about it very fast.
I appreciate your comment very much.
Happy night ✨
I totally identified with your story, in our Latin countries these situations you describe are very common. Irresponsible drivers abound and The most serious thing is that they have the lives of many people in their hands.
Thanks for sharing your experience.
Good Thursday.
Hello @rinconpoetico7
That's right, there are many anecdotes that can be told. Thank you very much for commenting.
A hug and happy day
Your older sister really protected you all well that day, just as your mother instructed her. She made sure you got out of that situation before chaos erupted. Your older sister was truly admirable
Thank very much @tommyyik.
She is a wonderful and ever protective sister.
Greetings 🫠
I really enjoyed this story. I like the setting of Caracas in the 70s, which you did a great job of describing.
This reads like a beautiful vintage postcard. Well done.
I also enjoyed the touch humour you add to this conflict.
This made me laugh. She gave the driver a good tongue lashing. Wonderful tale and well written.
Hola @litguru.
Me dio mucha alegria leer tu comentario y que hayas disfrutado de la historia.
Saludos 🌿
Fue muy agradable leerla. Saludos, @popurri!