On the verge of turning 30 years old, more than emotion, I was invaded by nostalgia, I could realize one thing, I have 20 years in this city, it is incredible how some people do not know where we are from, are we from the place where we were born or the place where we grew up? Then I ask myself a question, am I enchanted or trapped in Ciudad Bolivar?
Fuimos al Casco histórico de la Ciudad, lugar de magia y de muchísima historia. Lo primero en destacar son sus calles, con muchas casitas de colores y grandes ventanales, que en sus paredes viejas encierran todo el pasado, es como si el tiempo se congeló entre sus muros, la vida de esta ciudad está grapada ahí, así como ahora lo estoy yo.
I was born in a city on the coast of the country, Carúpano, which in their native aboriginal language means good people. When I was 10 years old I moved with my mother to this place, it was hard at first because my older brother stayed with my grandmother to finish his studies there. My mom already knew the city, since she came in search of her university degree and besides that she found the love of her life, whom she married and gave me two beautiful younger sisters, who filled my days with colors. So yes, my mom ate the head of the sapoara, haha that is a mysterious thing that happens here, everyone who eats the head of that fish, does not leave here. Maybe I ate it too? We went to the historic center of the city, a place of magic and history. The first thing to highlight are its streets, with many colorful houses and large windows, which in its old walls enclose all the past, it is as if time froze within its walls, the life of this city is stapled there, just as I am now.
When I arrived at the Cathedral I sighed, its imposing structure seems to touch the sky, and yes, just by standing in front of it you realize how small we are compared to our human power, how much sweat it must have taken to build that building!
En su costado está una marca muy especial, nada más y nada menos que la marca del proyectil que fusiló al general Piar, prócer independentista, por más curioso que parezca, si, es la misma marca, la original, no puede ser modificada ni por mil pinturas o arreglos que hagan a la Catedral, ya que es patrimonio histórico de la nación. Me llena de muchas sensaciones ver esa huella del pasado, qué cruel esa forma de morir para aquel hombre!
On its side is a very special mark, nothing more and nothing less than the mark of the projectile that shot General Piar, independence hero, as curious as it may seem, yes, it is the same mark, the original, it can not be modified even by a thousand paintings or arrangements made to the Cathedral, as it is historical heritage of the nation. It fills me with many sensations to see that trace of the past, how cruel that way of dying for that man!
Seguimos caminando en ese lugar, ya que justo al lado está la plaza Bolívar, recuerdo en mi infancia estar ahí todas las tardes viendo el atardecer mientras esperaba que me buscaran, pues mis padres me habían inscrito en un conservatorio de música que está justo detrás de la Catedral. La plaza tiene un dato curioso, en todo el país, en todas las ciudades hay una así, donde las estatuas de Bolívar siempre miran al Norte.
We continued walking in that place, since right next to it is the Bolivar square, I remember in my childhood being there every evening watching the sunset while waiting to be picked up, because my parents had enrolled me in a music conservatory that is just behind the Cathedral. The square has a curious fact, all over the country, in all cities there is one like this, where the statues of Bolivar always face north.
En su alrededor, una de sus calles nos llevó a las famosas Escalinatas, recuerdo que tenía sólo 10 años cuando las ví por vez primera y cuán infinitas me parecieron ser! Que casualidad que unos años después estaría ahí mismo con mis compañeros de promoción, felices por celebrar nuestra culminación de carrera, ya íbamos a ser médicos, y yo seguía en la misma ciudad, en las mismas Escalinatas, pero ya no me parecían tan largas... Mi papá siempre me inventaba un número diferente de escalones, solo para verme correr a contarlos, jaja qué fácil es distraer a un niño!
I remember that I was only 10 years old when I saw them for the first time and how infinite they seemed to me! What a coincidence that a few years later I would be right there with my classmates, happy to celebrate our graduation, we were going to be doctors, and I was still in the same city, on the same stairs, but they no longer seemed so long.... My dad always invented a different number of steps, just to see me run to count them, haha how easy it is to distract a child!
No podíamos irnos sin ir al poderoso Malecón, que fue construido luego de aquella histórica inundación, y aunque ha protegido a la ciudad por muchos años no logro contener las aguas del Orinoco hace dos años, tiene su magia la cosa... Recuerdo que de niña íbamos allí a pasear en bici y comer algodón de azúcar y cotufas, no podían faltar los inflables, trencitos y carritos chocones, que hacían de ese espacio un parque de diversiones!! Dios... Si que me divertí ahí!
Por primera vez, después de 20 años, pase los límites del Malecón, esos que sonaban en la voz de mi mamá diciéndome "Mija no te montes ahí que te puedes caer", que marcaban el margen entre lo prohibido y lo seguro. Los pasé! Salté entre las lajas que están a las orillas del río, a donde llegan los peñeros cuando el río está lleno, y se sostienen de alcayatas que clavaron en las lajas para poder detenerse ahí a ofrecer sus peces o a llevar a las personas desde una ciudad a otra a través del río, una experiencia que aún teniendo 20 años aquí, aún no he logrado vivir.
We could not leave without going to the mighty Malecon, which was built after that historic flood, and although it has protected the city for many years it did not manage to contain the waters of the Orinoco two years ago, it has its magic.... I remember when I was a child we used to go there to ride our bikes and eat cotton candy and cotufas, we could not miss the inflatables, little trains and bumper cars that made that space an amusement park! God... I really had fun there!
For the first time, after 20 years, I passed the limits of the Malecon, those that sounded in my mother's voice telling me "Mija, don't ride there or you might fall", that marked the border between the forbidden and the safe. I passed them! I jumped between the flagstones that are on the banks of the river, where the peñeros arrive when the river is full, and they hold on to the nails that they nailed to the flagstones to be able to stop there to offer their fish or to take people from one city to another across the river, an experience that even having 20 years here, I still haven't been able to live.
Qué lindo y chiquito se ve el puente desde ahí jaja me da nostalgia, si, cada vez que lo veo, ese puente significa más que la unión de dos estados, significa más que el puente colgante más grande de Latinoamérica, significa más que eso... Ese puente era la unión con mis raíces, era eso que me ayudaba a estar otra vez en mi Ciudad con el salitre en el aire y la sonrisa en la cara de mi abuela, mi Maíta. Ahora a mis casi 30, veo que ese puente realmente está en mi corazón, que siempre voy a estar unida al lugar donde nací y que la respuesta a pregunta inicial es...
...estoy atrapada, atrapada en sus encantos.
How beautiful and small the bridge looks from there haha it makes me nostalgic, yes, every time I see it, that bridge means more than the union of two states, it means more than the largest suspension bridge in Latin America, it means more than that .... That bridge was the union with my roots, it was that which helped me to be again in my city with the saltpeter in the air and the smile on the face of my grandmother, my Maíta. Now at almost 30, I see that that bridge really is in my heart, that I will always be united to the place where I was born and that the answer to the initial question is....
...I am trapped, trapped in its charms.
Conoce mi ciudad, porque sí, ahora también es mía, tan mía como yo de ella.
Get to know my city, because yes, now it's mine too, as mine as I am of it.
Fotos de mi autoría editadas con PhotoGrid. Traducido con Deepl.com
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reflexivo tu posts. pienso que somos de ese lugar que guarda cada vivencia de nuestro día a día... me encanta tu estado... saludos desde el zulia... Venezuela
Totalmente de acuerdo amiga @cirangela. Saludos 🤗✨
¡Excelente publicación!
Guau, que hermosa catedral 😱🤩
La marca del fusilamiento del general Piar😨
Me gustaría conocer el Estado Bolívar, al igual que todos los estados del país
¡Saludos!😁
Es una belleza amigo @luis96xd . Espero que un día tengas la oportunidad de disfrutarla de esta manera!! Saludos 🤗✨