Tuesday, August 18, 2009


We continue towards a more distant second church. On the way we see children playing around the school yard. At the sight of the car, they promptly hide beneath a tree, and only gradually go out to look at us when they discover we are carrying two of their men in the car. There is a skateboard near them which must be the most boring toy to have in an unpaved road. Jacobo explains us that bicycles are also banned. And soccer?
Forbidden as well. –says Jacobo while pretending not be regretting it- Last year we attempted to start playing it, but the bishop ordered us to stop it.
In a world where soccer seems to globalize in spite of any social, political and ethnic context the fact that a nostalgic agricultural colony can still bar it through an edict of its bishop vindicates the unpredictable of our species.

I remember to have seen a guy with a small pin of River Plata clinged to the zip of his jacket. How does he do to know the weekly scores without TV? Jacobo once more rescues me from ignorance and explains that the guys who installs the silos, masterly produce and sell nationwide by the Mennonites , are the only ones with chances to get to the outside world. They bring –smuggle- the weekly scores. Just imagine one of them whispering in church the results of a River-Boca match in Low German.

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