#papa balmaceda

[bluemusickid]

This is the last post i'll make tonight (I need to sleep or i'll spend the entire night squealing and giggling)

IT'S PAPA BALMACEDA

[walkingintheheartbreaksatellite]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY DAD

[firsttarotreader]

“suited him really well”.

GIIIIRRRRRLLLLLL it doesn't get clearer than that!!!!! HAHA

Well, Papa Balmaceda’s words, right? 😅😅

[gatitatravel]

10 de Agosto

Término de viaje.

Finalmente he llegado a mi destino.

Les comparto mi itinerario de viaje y costos.

Transporte de la casa al aeropuerto= $10.000

Pasaje en avión de Stgo a Balmaceda + equipaje sobredimensionado (bici) = $93.000

Transfer de Balmaceda a Coyhaique= $18.000

Bus de Coyhaique a Puerto río tranquilo= $25.000

Anotación, andar con bici, es como andar con hijo, todo me salió el doble, además del bulto con el que me paseé casi todo Chile 😮‍💨 a mi no más se me ocurren estas misiones, si o no? La verdad es que no. Pero tengo una leve fascinación con hacerme la vida un poco más difícil de lo que ya es. Siento que le da emoción a la aventura; eeeeellaaaa, la aventurera 🤠

Mi equipaje.

El 9 de agosto partió a las 5 am, alistando lo último que quedaba y despedirse de la familia.

6:15 arribando en el aeropuerto, no hice el check in (siempre se olvida algo) pero salió todo bien, desayuno nutritivo en McDonald’s, empanadas, papas fritas y Coca-Cola. Cómo siempre ando tarde, salí corriendo y ya estaban haciendo el último llamado donde era a la única que llamaban, que te puedo decir jijiji 🤭

El vuelo fue muy bello, aunque creo que en todo Chile estuvo nublado, literal parecía estar nadando en un vaso de leche, al ir aterrizando se lograban divisar unos paisajes maravillosos, que, ay!, me recordaron todo el viaje de porque emprendí este proyecto.

De verdad parecía leche 🥛.

Unas turbulencias que en verdad me relajaban y en Temuco divisé 7 volcanes de una, QUE HERMOSO ES CHILE WEON😍

Aterrizamos en Balmaceda a las 11:30, la verdad creí que sería todo más complicado, pero Dios me acompaña siempre, encontré transfer de una y partimos a coyhaique.

Una hora de viaje, y llegué donde Seba a las 13:00, Seba es un amigo que conocí en stgo en mi adolescencia, porque los dos fans de Justin Bieber, y ahora él vive en Coyhaique, y bueno, me recibió en su casa y pude pasar la noche ahí, ya que el único bus que sale a Tranquilo, es a las 8 am.

Durante la tarde di vueltas en el pueblo, me relajé y me maravillé de la vista que hay frente al terminal, compré pizza y eso comimos en la noche.

Vi una serie y dormí, hoy debía llegar a las 7:30 am al terminal. Por qué Sipo, la bici dando la cacha y tenía que subirla de las primeras, y con lo que me gusta levantarme temprano y llegar antes a los lugares🙄

Se cumplió misión, un viaje piola de 4 hrs y media, y FINALMENTE!

[ohpedromypedro]

Ice Cream To Celebrate

A/N: This request was sent in by @catwinchesterkaz2y5 and let me tell you, I am SOFT. 🥺👉🏼👈🏼 Usually I’m not good writing fluff, but when it comes to Papa!Pedro, I can conjure up some cute ass fluff. Thank you for this request! I can’t wait to work on the next one you sent in. 😩💕

word count: 2.3k+ (was not expecting it to be this long 👀)

characters: Pedro x f!Reader x daughter oc

warnings: PURE FLUFF, THAT’S IT

The pitter patter of your almost four year old daughter Verónica’s feet is heard on the hallway floor just outside your bedroom by yourself and Pedro, who are still currently curled up in each other’s hold with your legs intertwined like tangled rope, just laying there trying to get the courage to finally climb your asses out of your comfortable bed; and you both can’t help but smile at each other when the door opens and in comes your daughter with her favorite teddy in hand. It’s actually a Build-A-Bear Baby Yoda, but still, like a teddy. 

“Mamá? Papá?” She inquires, grabbing hold of your comforter and hoisting herself and her teddy up by the wooden bedframe with her foot as her boost, grinning when she sees the two of you looking toward her. “Mamá, Papá! You’s awake!”

“Yes, princesa, we’ve been awake,” Pedro chuckles, holding his arm open so Verónica can come join you for cuddles. Once she’s curled up against his chest, he closes his arm around her and holds her warmly against him. “My favorite part of the morning. Cuddles with my two favorite girls.”

“I love you,” you murmur, looking up at your husband from where you lay your head on his chest and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“I love you,” he sighs in content, kissing you in return.

“I love you Mamá and Papá.”

“We love you too.” You say it at the same time Pedro does, which you two smile at and share another kiss over.

“I want pancakes,” Verónica sighs and you and Pedro just laugh softly.

“That so? Well why didn’t you say so, hermosa chica? Papá will whip you and Mamá up a couple of delicious blueberry pancakes, how does that sound?”

“Yeah yeah yeah! That soun’ yummy, Papá!” Verónica giggles, pressing a bunch of kisses all over Pedro’s face. Pedro just laughs and easily lifts Verónica up in the air, playfully flying her around above him before bringing her back down to attack her with kisses. “Noooo not kissy monster!” She squeals.

“Yes the kissy monster! You’ve awoken him now! Mwahaha!” He lets out a playful, evil laugh, continuing to kiss her face and arms and tummy while she giggles loud and wiggles in his arms.

“Papá please! That tickles!” She squeals, trying to escape his arms and crawl toward you. “Mamá save me! Please!”

You can’t help but to giggle at the two of them, dropping your hands so you can start tickling Pedro’s sides which he yelps at and releases Verónica so she can escape toward the foot of the bed. Pedro looks at you with playful betrayal, his hand going up to rest over his heart.

“Betrayed by my own wife.”

“Girls gotta stick together, baby, you know that,” you tease, leaning over to gently kiss his lips before moving to press yours to his ear, speaking low enough so only he can hear. “but when she’s down for her nap later, I’ll make it up to you.” You pull back with a small smirk before getting up from the bed and lifting Verónica into your arms. “Come on, babygirl. Let’s go race Papá to the kitchen.”

“Yeah, yeah!” She giggles, blowing raspberries at Pedro as you run with her out of the room which he just chuckles at and soon jumps off the bed to chase you. She screams when she sees him catching up to you both. “Faster Mamá, he coming!”

“I’m gonna beat you there!” He cackles, using one of the railings on the staircase to quickly slide down and pass you and Verónica, racing right for the kitchen.

“Papá cheating!” She whines, jumping down from your arms when you finally reach the bottom of the stairs and running over to Pedro to lightly hit his leg. “No fair!”

“I didn’t hear any rules, so I played plenty fair,” he teases, leaning down to scoop Verónica into his arms and rest her on his hip. “Now, you wanna help Papá make some pancakes?”

“Yeah, yeah!” She giggles excitedly, clapping her hands as Pedro sits her on the countertop so he can start grabbing everything to make the pancakes.

You watch the two of them from afar, leaning against the frame of the kitchen doorway so you can admire how adorable they are as they start making the pancakes. Pedro has always been adorable to you, but he’s a completely different type of adorable when it comes to your daughter. There’s just something about being a father, you guess.

Pedro notices that you’re just standing there watching and looks over at you to give you a warm smile.

“Gonna join us or what, Mamá?”

“Yeah, Mamá! Why you stare like that?” Verónica asks you, watching as Pedro pours some pancake batter into a frying pan.

“Just admiring my two favorite people in the whole entire world being adorable and making pancakes together.” You smile, walking over so you can give Verónica a kiss on the head.

“You’s adorable,” she says back to you, looking up at you and pressing a little kiss to your lips.

“Thank you, babygirl.” You smile at her, brushing your fingers through her hair. “How about after breakfast, we take a bath and then maybe we can all go for a nice walk at the park?”

“Yeah, yeah! Ice cream! Ice cream!”

“Yes, ice cream too if you’re a good girl and behave during your bath, okay?”

“Okay Mamá,” she giggles, kissing your cheek before shuffling closer to Pedro and nuzzling his shoulder while the pancakes cook. “I want Papá give me bath.”

“If Papá is okay with that, he can give you a bath if you want.”

“Papá is very okay with that, princesa.” He smiles down at Verónica and gives her forehead a soft kiss. “Once we finish eating breakfast, Papá will give you a bath. You want a bubble bath?”

“Bubbles!” She squeals, kicking her feet excitedly.

“I take that as a yes,” he chuckles, kissing her hair before flipping the pancakes, placing the well cooked ones on a plate set to the side. “Would Mamá like to grab some butter for the delicious pancakes?”

“Of course,” you smile, going to grab the butter dish and bringing it over to the dining table where you start setting plates and silverware out as well so you can eat. “Orange juice?”

“Yes please!”

“Anything for you, my sweet girl.” You smile over at Verónica before grabbing the orange juice from the fridge and one of her sippy cups from the cabinet, grabbing yourself and Pedro a glass of your own.

Once you get everything situated at the dining table, you head back to where Pedro is just finishing piling the pancakes onto a plate. He quickly turns the stove off and turns to smile at you, lifting his hand up to gently brush his thumb against your cheekbone. You lean into his touch and hum, turning your face so you can kiss the palm of his hand.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, mi bella esposa. Now let’s eat, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smile, quickly kissing his lips before grabbing the plate of pancakes and carrying them over to the table. “Oh! Honey, can you grab the maple syrup too?”

“Good thinking. I almost forgot,” he chuckles, grabbing the homemade maple syrup a family friend of yours gifted you and bringing that over to the table as well.

“Can’t have pancakes without syrup, can you?” You chuckle, sitting Verónica in her chair before cutting her up a pancake and putting it on her personally made Mandalorian plate, courtesy of her Papá.

Pedro pours a small amount of syrup on her pancakes and gives you a smile and a peck on the lips. “No you cannot.”

The two of you sit down in your own seats and help yourselves to some pancakes, adding some butter and syrup as preferred before starting to eat. You pour yourself, Pedro, and Verónica some orange juice, giving Verónica her sippy cup and watching with a smile as she takes a long sip of her juice.

“Are you enjoying your breakfast, pretty girl?” You chuckle and Verónica nods.

“Uh huh. Can’t wait for ice cream.”

“Of course you can’t,” Pedro chuckles, giving his head an amused shake. “Like mother, like daughter.”

“Ice cream is life,” you state, giving your eyelids a squint in his direction. Pedro just laughs and playfully throws a piece of pancake at your face. “Hey!” You pout, grabbing the pancake and throwing it back at him. “Meanie.”

“Awww, you know I’m just teasing, baby.” He smirks, leaning across the table to kiss the tip of your nose. “I know how important your love for ice cream is,” he chuckles.

“Yeah,” you smile at his kiss to your nose, looking up at him with admiration. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal. You are the absolute best husband and father that could ever exist.”

“You two are my world and you deserve nothing less,” he murmurs, kissing you gently.

“I love you so much,” you whisper into the kiss, your hand gently touching his face.

~⁂ ~⁂ ~⁂  ~⁂ ~⁂ ~⁂ ~⁂ ~⁂ ~⁂ ~⁂ ~⁂ ~⁂ ~⁂ ~⁂ ~⁂ ~⁂ ~⁂ ~⁂ ~⁂ ~

The three of you finish eating pretty quickly and soon Pedro has Verónica upstairs taking her bath. While he bathes Verónica, you focus on the after breakfast clean up, figuring that you get it out of the way while your clingy daughter is preoccupied with her bubble bath. Cleaning with a toddler around is not an easy task, so it’s always best to do it while she’s bathing or playing in her room.

You smile as you listen closely to your husband and daughter just up the stairs in the bathroom, listening to their cute little exchanges while playing with her toys, your heart unable to handle all the cuteness. You can’t help but think about how lucky you truly are to have a man as incredible as Pedro in your life and you’re especially lucky to have such a beautiful child with him.

Wait.

You suddenly frown, your hand slapping to your mouth as you quickly run to the downstairs bathroom just a few rooms down from the kitchen, making it to the toilet just in time to throw up your breakfast. You groan as all your stomach’s contents come up and out of you, your hand weakly holding your hair back.

“Ugh gross,” you sigh, slowly standing up and flushing the toilet, rinsing your mouth out with some mouthwash right after. “What the hell was that about?” You ask yourself, rubbing your stomach with furrowed brows. You never get sick like that, not unless you’re… Oh. Your eyes widen and immediately you check your period track app on your phone. “Three weeks late?!” 

You gasp, moving to dig through the cabinet below the bathroom sink for a pregnancy test, sighing in relief when you find one that you had purchased not too long ago, as a just in case. Once you get the test out of its wrapping, you quickly do your duty and wait for the results. You’re a tad bit worried now. What if Pedro isn’t ready for another child? What if he only wants just one? What will happen then?

You nervously chew your lip while you wait for the result, practically staring at the test until you see the positive symbol pop up. Your eyes widen, a shocked expression taking over your features as you get lost in the positive result.

“Y/N?” Pedro’s voice snaps you back to reality and immediately you’re gasping again, grabbing the pregnancy test and rushing out to where he’s coming down the stairs with Verónica in his arms.

“Pedro,” you can’t help but to grin wide, your nervousness now becoming excitement as you face your husband to tell him the news. He sets Verónica down with a quirked brow, sensing your silent excitement.

“Honey?”

You hold out the pregnancy test for him to take and his eyes go wide the second he sees the result, his lips tugged into the widest of grins.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Three weeks late for my period.”

“I’m gonna be a Papá again?” He inquires, his eyes lit up with excitement. His excitement makes your heart flutter and you can only give your head a small nod, biting your lip with a smile.

“Yes, baby.”

“Oh I love you so much, Y/N Y/M/N Pascal. You make the happiest man to walk this Earth.”

“I love you too,” you whisper, quickly wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply.

“Mamá havin’ baby?” Verónica looks up at the two of you, moving to settle between yours and Pedro’s legs. You both look down at her and smile.

“Yes, sweetie. Mamá’s gonna make you a big sister.”

“Yay! Best day ever!” She squeals, jumping up and down and clapping. “I hope is a boy!”

“Yeah? Me too,” Pedro grins, kneeling down and giving his daughter a warm hug. “If it’s a boy, what should we name him?”

“After tío!”

“I think Oscar would quite love the idea of that,” you chuckle, resting your hand over your stomach. Pedro looks up at you and smiles, gently resting his hand over yours before moving them away and pressing a kiss to your tummy.

“I can’t wait to spoil you while you carry our second child.” He murmurs, moving to stand up once again and press his lips to your own, his hand now rubbing over your stomach. “I can’t wait to share the good news.”

“Me too,” you smile. “But for now, let’s enjoy our nice walk in the park today with our perfect little girl. Everyone can wait til tonight for the news, don’t you agree?”

“I do,” Pedro smiles, resting his forehead against your own. “Ice cream to celebrate?”

“Ice cream to celebrate.”

Pedro tag list: @manuphantom​ @unadulteratedneckherolover @luna-longbott0m​ @hanelijoy​ @nisanekim​ @lyreandcampfire​

Everything tag list: @halefirewarrior​ @takemepedropascal​ @whiskeyxinxaxteacup​ @pedrosdoll​ @wildcard566​ @talesfromtheguild​ @readsalot73​ @snazzyjazzy6​ @thottytron5000​ @oberynispunk​ @phoenixhalliwell​

[mustyrosewater]

𝗷𝗲𝗻𝗻𝘆 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸 . 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗨𝗘 .

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: 𝘆𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝘇𝗮 𝗱𝗶𝗮𝘇, 𝘂𝘀𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗮𝘀 𝘆𝗮𝘆𝗮, 𝗺𝗲𝘁 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗮𝗹𝗺𝗮𝗰𝗲𝗱𝗮 𝗶𝗻 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗼𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝘆 𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝟭𝟵𝟵𝟭. 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘇𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀. 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀. 𝘆𝗮𝘆𝗮, 𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗮 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗰𝗼𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗺𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗴𝗻𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗵𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝘃 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿, 𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 b𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗱𝗿𝗼 𝗽𝗮𝘀𝗰𝗮𝗹, 𝗮 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗼𝗿. 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗵𝗼𝘄, 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗵𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗻'𝘁 𝗰𝗿𝗼𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝘁 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝟮𝟬 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀, 𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗹 𝗻𝗼𝘄.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 𝟰,𝟰𝟴𝟳

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗻𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁

𝗮/𝗻: 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀, 𝗶 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗻 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗯𝗼𝘁𝗵 𝗳𝗹𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆, 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗺𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗱 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗱, 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗹𝗹!

they say you never forget your first best friend was high school, a friendship so sacred and real wasn't easy to forget. peter balmaceda was no exception to this rule. even by the time yaritza diaz, usually known as yaya had reached her late thirties, the friendship she'd shared with peter was still so fresh in her mind it felt like yesterday. even if had been nearly twenty years since she'd actually seen him, she didn't think she could ever forget the boy who called her yaya and who she lovingly referred to as flaco. each memory she shared with him was a treasure to her, the polaroids still kept snugly in diary were evidence of that; the polaroids of them smoking weed together out the back of their school building, along with the one of them where he held her over his shoulder, his mouth held open in laughter as the image was taken. the images of them forever frozen and captured on polaroids that had begun to brown around the edges due to age, blurry from the shitty quality that seemed to add all the more nostalgia to them. -- "yartiza!" her mothers use of her full name was never a good sign, especially when it was accompanied by the sound of her alarm that had no doubt been going off for the past few minutes; yaya really shouldn't have been surprised that she'd slept in for the first day of the school year. should she have set an earlier alarm? probably. slamming her hand down on the alarm once, she cringed when it only continued, finally lifting her hand from the pillow to squint at the alarm clock before slamming her hand the top once more, a lot harder than before. while her alarm does stop, she manages to knock it off of her desk at the same time, looking down at the clock in satisfaction, a small smirk coming to her face. "YARITZAAA!" with wails that could battle the likes of la llorona, yaya heard her mothers footsteps getting louder and closer to her shut door. preparing herself for her mother wrath, she quickly got out of bed, almost tripping over the clothes strewn along the floor before regaining her footing only when her mother opened the door, revealing her daughter to now be rummaging through her closet. her mothers face revealed that she was less than impressed, her hands landing on her hips. her eyes traveled around her daughters room, taking a moment to cringe at it's messy state before looking back at her daughter. "ay, lartiza, how are you going to survive the rest of the year if you're late on the first day." the only response to her mothers nagging was a roll of her eyes and a shrug of her shoulders, finally finding the shirt and jeans that she was looking for, pulling them out and chucking them on the bed. "enrique already left ten minutes ago! you need to start waking up earlier yaya." this was always the routine, without failure at least once a day she'd have to be compared to her older brother, whether it was in the way he dressed, his grades or even the music he listened to, yaritza was always the disappointment in her mothers eyes. "mama! can i get dressed now?" she didn't mean to snap. that was a lie, she just didn't mean to make it so obvious. after years and years she had only gotten the courage to snap at her mother just as she started highschool, she could still remember the look on her younger brothers face the first time it happened. the only response her mother gave was a small 'hmph' before turning on her heel and marching out of her daughters room, her footsteps still echoing all the way to the kitchen. it was only moments later when gabriel's head poked through her doorway, a grin set on his freckled face. "ay dios mio yaya, you tryna give her a stroke?" his question only resulted in the two sharing a knowing grin, with yaya biting her lip to mask her laughter. "that's the plan bebito." she says while simultaneously pulling her baby brother into a her arms, ruffling his already messy hair. she laughs as her baby brother lets out an uncomfortable groan and tries to squirm out of her arms. "don't call me bebito." he grunts, pulling out of her arms and giving his older sister a glare. she only smirks at him and shoves him playfully, "go, start getting dressed before i put you in a headlock bebito." she says, putting emphasis on the nickname he hates oh so much. he flips her off with a smile as he leaves her room, leaving yaya to finally change into her clothes for the day. taking a moment to stand in front of the mirror putting on the hoop earrings that her mother hated so much despite being a gift from her father; sometimes yaya wondered if she wore the things she did just to annoy her mother, and each time the answer was yes. was it petty? yes, did yaya give a single shit? no. walking into the kitchen, she was greeted by the sight of her papa sitting at the table drinking coffee from a mug they'd gotten on their trip to san fransico about two years back; she could remember it just like yesterday, gabriel had been too scared to walk across the bridge so yaya had ended up staying with him while enrique and their parents did. always a fun memory for her to look back on. approaching her father, she leaned down to kiss his wrinkled forehead. "buenos dias papa." she said, giving him a big grin which her father returned happily. "buenos dias princesa." his gruff, morning laced voice replied, turning back down to his coffee and newspaper. "estás emocionada por la escuela?" he asked her, wondering if she was excited for her first day at new school, which was a bit of an obvious question; yaya only groaned in reply, causing her papa to erupt in a deep bellied laughter. looking around, she spotted her bag sat by the door and grabbed it, slinging the strap over her shoulder. the knitted tote bag was more colorful than a pack of skittles, knitted for her by her abuela a few years back and since then yaya refused to use any other bag. "ay! yaya! you're going to be late!" her mothers shrill voice rung in her ears, having just walked out from the bathroom. "ok! ok! im going!" yaya assured, holding her hands up in defense before reaching for her skateboard, still leaned up against the wall as she'd left it despite her mothers compaints. "adios princesa! te amo!" her father called out as she walked out of the door. "te amo!" she called back, shutting the grate behind her with a loud bang and walking down the small set of stairs out of their apartment complex. as she walked out of the driveway, she spotted her neighbour, a sweet old lady she'd known for years, currently checking her mail. "buenos dias, miss morales." she bid her a good morning happily, smiling brightly as the woman looked up at her through her thick framed glasses. "oh! beunos dias yaya!" she replied, giving her a small wave which was returned. continuing down the street, yaya quickly placed her skateboard on the ground and stepped on with one foot, using the other to push off and begin gliding down the street. as she skated past houses, the wind whipped through her hair and the sound of the beach was clear in the distance, waves crashing and seagulls cawing. a pleased smile came to her lips as she skated on the footpath, this was what made the daily trip to school worth it, being able to just have these few minutes to herself in the morning.   being born and raised in miami, it had almost certainly left it's mark on yaya, everything from the way she dressed to the music she listened to, it all reeked of her home town and she wouldn't have had it any other way. her mother came here from cuba with the american dream in mind, leaving behind relatives a glorified warzone. her father left for the same reasons, but unlike his wife, he encouraged cuban culture among his family, even going so far as to only speak spanish in the house, he was always desperate to share his culture with his children, so as they not forget their roots. gabriel and yaya hadn't had a problem with that, always eager to learn and be taught about their homeland. it was enrique and her mother that wanted to americanize themselves, and in yaya's eyes, they were welcome to that as they pleased, so long as they didn't force it onto her. yaya's mother had even tried to make her start going by mary, a proposal which yaya and her father quickly shut down. she'd be lying if she said it didn't hurt, the fact that her mother was taking success to be more important than her own culture, preferring the american dream over her own familia. that was the main source of the conflict between yaya and her mother, the older she became, the more she was thinking for herself and thus, being less susceptible to her mothers control. she'd heard her mother venting to her friends on the phone about her daughter, calling her ungrateful among other things that yaya had been too upset to stay and hear. ever since then there had been a wall between the two, a wall that couldn't be broken down and probably never would. ripped rather harshly out of her thoughts, yaya almost trips as she takes a sharp left turn, narrowly missing two boys walking on the footpath, around gabriels age. her heart races as she regains her balance on the board, letting out a huff just as she spots her school just down the street. orange county school of arts, the school her mother begged her not to choose, claiming there was no way to get a successful degree from a school like that. "why don't you try something like enrique? maybe try being a nurse?" her mothers words echoed in her mind as she stopped her board, picking it up and walking the rest of the way towards the entrance where other kids were already entering. once again comparing her to her older brother had only ended up making yaya more determined to attend ocsa, desperate to rub it in her mothers face. that was also the main reason she worked as hard as she did, she was able to admit that it was out of spite, but she wasn't complaining if it meant she could have an above average report guard to rub in her mothers face every year. if it was up to yaya's mother, she would have no doubt finished highschool and met a nice boy and settle down and get married. out of all the cuban values her mother had conveniently decided to keep, it had to be that one. yaya would be lying if she said she wasn't a feminist, something some people may dislike her for; but in yaya's mind, if they disliked her for holding such 'controversial' views, they could go and fuck themselves. entering the building through double doors, she was immediately greeted by the hustle and bustle of people, some desperate to get to their first classes, some taking their sweet time talking to their partners by their lockers. all that yaya did was head straight down the hallway in the direction of her locker, the same locker she'd had since she first started attended, having never changed throughout her entire time there. "yayaaa!" a voice that she was able to recognize instantly rang out from a few meters behind her, quickly turning around, the sight of a head of thick brown hair bouncing towards her filled her vision. out of the crowd popped her best friend since the end of elementary school, camila. she called her best friends name back affectionately before her arms wrapped around yaya's neck like a vice. camila was a bombshell, her hair always teased to absolute perfection and in adorable shorts and colorful button ups, she always looked like she'd just stepped off of an issue of vogue, even in her worst moments. "how are you chica?" she asked, unwrapping her arms from around yaya's shoulders and grinning at her with that award winning smile. "not looking forward to this." yaya replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes and turning back to her locker, placing her skateboard inside and shutting the door with a loud bang, making sure that it was locked properly. as much as she didn't want to admit it, this was miami, people stole shit all the time. she'd remembered the time camila had left one of her expensive perfumes inside her locker and had nearly had a meltdown when she came back to find her door wide open and anything of moderate value long gone; she was still bitter about the theft even now and yaya knew better than to mention the instance. "oh calm down, you're already doing better than i am." camila reassured with a wave of her hand, hooking her arm in yaya's and walking through the halls, narrowly avoiding all the people in the crowded area. "so what do you have first?" she asked, tilting her head and raising her eyebrows expectantly. furrowing her brows, yaya racked her brain in an attempt to remember exactly what class she had first and then so on and so fourth. "english, math then drama." yaya didn't mind that lineup, the only thing she wasn't looking forward to was drama. the only reason she even chose the subject as her elective was because the only other option was ceramics, and she would rather go to an early grave than do ceramics, she could already hear her mother nagging her about it. "this is what i pay for you to do at school?" and then she'd go on and on about the mediecal degree enrique was planning to do, yeah, no thanks. so drama it was. she was at least thankful of the fact that after discussing it with the teacher, it was agreed that her and another small group of students would study costuming instead, learning both practical and theory, learning of theatre clothing's history as well as designing and making costumes for the productions that the class would put on. yaya had never been more thankful of her mother forcing her to learn how to sew and follow patterns since the time she was able to hold and needle and thread, as well as forcing her into several home economics classes all throughout school. her experience with theatre kids had not been a positive one, the last drama class she'd taken was in elementary school and she'd promised herself never again, not since she'd been made to kiss another boy who, despite being told it was an actors kiss, decided to shove his tongue into her mouth. she'd ended up slapping him on stage and storming off, ruining the show. yaya didn't regret slapping him, however, she did regret the big fat red f that found it's way onto her report card. the only f she'd ever gotten to this very day. "well, let me know if there's any cute boys in your classes chica, i gotta go." camila gave her a wink, leaving yaya on her own shaking her head. camila was admittedly boy crazy, practically every few months she had a new boy she was in love with; each time she would promise yaya that this one was different, and it always ended the same, with yaya holding camila while she cried onto her shoulder. she didn't hold this against camila, she a hopeless romantic at heart and if that was what she wanted to do, camila would simply be there as a supportive friend, a shoulder to cry on each time another boy broke her heart. maybe some part of yaya envied camila, falling in and out of love was so easy for her, within another month she'd still be just as confident and bubbly, dismissing her old boyfriend. yaya wished she could get over things that easily, evidenced by the fact that she was still bitter about the situation with the boy during the play, yaya held grudges easier than one would think. letting out a long winded sigh, yaya simply went down the hall in the direction of her english class praying that mr ramirez wasn't going to be her teacher again his year. last year, he'd shoved mountains of essays onto yaya, claiming that he was just trying to push her so that she could reach her full potential. part of yaya thought that was bullshit and that mr ramirez just had it out for her; no matter what she believed she was still able to say that she'd passed that class with a b, not the best, but certainly not the worst by yaya's mothers standards. yaya's father was a different story when it came to school, he encouraged her to follow her passions of costume design, and each time she came home with a report card, her father would only stroke her shoulder and say "as long as you're having fun princesa, i don't care what marks you get." she'd guessed that was the part of her father that strived to give his children the childhood they'd never had, giving them the freedom to explore what they wanted to because that's just what you did in america, you followed your dreams. yaya's mother would have scoffed at such a statement, no doubt she'd go on a rant about how "dreams don't pay the bills." sometimes, yaya wondered how her parents had even fallen in love in the first place. -- her first two classes had gone by quicker than expected, yaya was grateful that instead of mr ramirez, her english teacher for the year was mrs. myers, a polite middle ages woman with teased hair and glasses that should have stayed in 1984, but was none the less a breeze to be taught by. the only thing yaya didn't appreciate was that she was a sucker for romance novels, always keeping a copy and pride and prejudice on her desk, referencing it every chance she got. "oh that sounds like something mr. darcy would do." yaya could have sworn the woman thought she was destined to marry mr darcy and live in a mansion in europe, though she couldn't blame her for trying, it sounded like a decent life. the time for her drama class rolled around and reared its ugly head sooner than she would have liked, dreading it already as she walked down the hall to come face to face to the door decorated with paper cutouts of the image of the two masks, one smiling and one frowning, a sign on the door labelled 'theatre production.' in swirly cursive font that took yaya longer than she would admit to read. she could already hear people talking inside and turned to look at the clock on the wall; she wasn't late. of course theatre kids were always eager to start, something she'd forgotten. wrapping her hand around the door handle, she twisted it and swung the door open. the talking immediately grew louder now that she was actually in the room and she fought the urge to cringe at the volume level, theatre kids were also loud, something yaya should have prepared herself for. as she looked around, she observed a few students sitting on desks talking to each other, as well as others sitting on chair reading books. from what she tell, they all seemed to have outgoing and bubbly personalities, a majority of them talking with their hands, making big gestures as they described what yaya was certain to be absolutely riveting topics. sarcasm was eminent. she was disheartened to realize that she didn't recognize anyone apart from maybe two or three people that she shared classes with but never talked to; letting out a quiet huff, she quickly spotted a spare chair and headed straight for it and sat down, placing her bag by her feet. it was about another five minutes before the teacher walked in, a middle aged woman with chunky jewelry and a floor length skirt patterned with flowers. all the talking ceased as she leaned on the desk and looked at every body, a bright smile on her face. "hello everyone, i'm mrs martinez, but please, call me jude." her voice was soft and smooth, every word spoken to perfection. yaya didn't doubt that this was due to experience on stage, learning to project her voice had no doubt lended to her teaching. mrs martinez, or jude, clapped her hands together excitedly, her several plastic bracelets jingling with her movements. "before we begin the lesson i'll just do roll call." she spoke, reaching behind her to grab a clipboard with names, holding up a colourful novelty pen covered in flowers. she began to read out the names, ticking the box beside them each time she got an answer. yaya didn't really pay attention, only focusing enough to listen out for her own name not really caring to learn her classmates names. everybody else seemed to excited for yaya's taste, some wearing stupid smiles purely from being able to call out 'here.' part of her wanted to judge these kids more than she already was, but another part of her couldn't find but find their goofy enthusiasm somewhat charming. "marisol?" jude called out, lifting her head to look around the room expectantly. the use of her first time made yaya visually cringe, turning her attention up to make eye contact with jude before raising her hand awkwardly, leaning back in her chair. "it's yaritza." she spoke rather unenthusiastically. no matter how many times she asked the office to change it, her school id still read as her first name rather than her middle name she chose to go by. it wasn't that she particularly hated the name itself, it was just the fact that it was the name her mother chose when she was born. going by her middle name was just another way for yaya to distance herself from her mother, who even now had been calling her by her middle name after far too long correcting her mother when she referred to her as her middle name. she could feel eyes on her as she lowered her hand, especially seeing as she'd gone to the effort to correct the teacher, this was already more attention than she wanted. "ok, yaritza it is." jude replied, not bothering to put the accent on her name and instead saying it with her completely american accent. that always annoyed her, people never made the effort to say her name right, it just sounded wrong without the accent, and yet she couldn't be bothered to even attempt to correct her, no doubt it would simply result in the attention being on her for longer. reading through the rest of the names, jude placed her clip board down and nodded her head, satisfied. "now i think it's a good time for a little excercise for every body to get to know each other better." yaya wanted to audibly groan but fought the urge, only opting to cross her arms and tilt her head back slightly, focusing on the ceiling and the fluorescent lights flickering softly every now and then. she tuned out whatever june was saying unable to will herself to focus on whatever it was she was having them do. it was only when she heard chairs shuffling and people beginning to talk that she lowered her head back down, observing as people began to walk around the room, shaking hands with people and beginning to talk with each other. she didn't stand up from her chair, only looked down to play with her nails, staring at the chipped burgundy nail polish that she reminded herself to re apply when she got home that day. "hi." the voice came from in front of her, as yaya looked up at the source, she hadn't even realized that someone had walked in front of her. she took in the boys appearance, brown hair styled back with gel, a white shirt under an oversized knitted sweater paired with jeans and chucks. it was only when her eyes trailed back up to his face that she saw he was looking at her expectantly, hands tucked away in the pockets of his jeans and shifting his weight awkwardly. "can i help you?" yaya didn't mean to sound so mean when the words left her mouth, but she couldn't help the way they'd sounded. whoever he was, he hadn't been deterred by her tone, instead he only offered her a thin smile, turning his head back to look at june watching everybody interact before turning back to yaya. "well, she said to go up to someone you didn't know and introduce yourself, so..." the boy only shrugged, taking one hand out his jean pocket and extending it out to her, quickly readjusting the sleeve that had fallen over his hand momentarily. "i'm peter." yaya couldn't help the smile coming to her face, his unapologetic awkwardness about the whole situation was funny to her, especially the goofy he smile he offered her when he saw her reaction. she held up her hand, giving his a small shake, still sitting down in the chair, only leaning forward when shaking his hand. "yaritza." she said, only to receive a small chuckle from peter who quickly returned his hand to his pocket, looking down at the floor while he chuckled, the smile having only grown wider if that were possible, now displaying a set of dimples. he looked back up at her nodding his head "yeah i know, you definitely made sure of that." he wasn't making fun of her, only trying to make light of what was undoubtedly an awkward situation. yaya was unable to stop herself from being infected by his contagious goofy nature, finding it hard to drop the grin that had now found it's way on her face. she shrugged her shoulders playfully. "who else is going to?" she poked back, already finding that she was enjoying peters company. if she was able to make at least one friend in this class at all, which was something she prayed wouldn't be too difficult a task, she had to be honest. she wouldn't be complaining if the one friend she made this year was peter.

[kayluh1915]

Okay, why is no one talking about the wholesome way he's helping his dad??? It may seem tribal to some, but to me it speaks volumes as to how much he loves his dad. And he's barely helping him. His dad is such a beast climbing that hill practically by himself. I would be a fat heaving mess and he's double my age and hauling ass like it's nothing! Then we have the beautiful Lux being the annoying younger sister of the group doing what younger siblings do best.

My heart is so full right now. I adore this family so much. 😭😭😭

Pedro Pascal on Lux Pascal’s Instagram 🥺 (April 2, 2021)

[lauritapasion]

❤Un dia como hoy 3 de Septiembre de 1988 se cumple 33 años de la Beatificacion de La Sierva de DIOS Laura Vicuña❤ Laura Vicuña (Laura Vicuña Pino; Santiago, 1891 - Junín, Argentina, 1904) Beata chilena venerada especialmente en su país natal y en Argentina. Durante su más tierna infancia su familia sufrió los rigores de la guerra civil de 1891, que enfrentó a partidarios y detractores del presidente José Manuel Balmaceda (1886-1891). La pequeña Laura había sido bautizada en la Parroquia de Santa Ana de Santiago (la misma en que sería bautizada Santa Teresa de los Andes), y después del fallecimiento de su padre en 1894, su madre, Mercedes Pino, emigró a Argentina, donde se empleó en una hacienda en Quilquihue. En Argentina, Mercedes Pino llevó a sus hijas a un colegio de las religiosas María Auxiliadora, en Junín, perteneciente a la congregación que había fundado Don Bosco. La relación de concubinato de su madre con el dueño de la hacienda, Manuel Mora, hizo sufrir enormemente a Laura. Profundamente religiosa, a los 10 años ofreció su vida a Dios "para reparar las ofensas que recibes de los hombres, en especial de las personas de mi familia", promesa ésta que reiteró ante su confesor al confirmarse. Laura Vicuña contrajo una grave enfermedad que soportó de forma estoica, hasta fallecer a los 13 años. En 1988 fue proclamada beata por el Papa Juan Pablo II, quien señaló en su homilía: "La beata Laura Vicuña, gloria purísima de Argentina y Chile, despierta un renovado compromiso espiritual en estas dos nobles naciones". La festividad de la beata Laura Vicuña se celebra el 22 de enero. https://www.instagram.com/p/CTXEjHBHyXC/?utm_medium=tumblr

[themandadlorianbod]

Do you think javiera lux and the kids came along or just pp? I would think they haven't seen papa balmaceda as long as pedro hasnt

he def could have traveled with Javiera and fam. possibly Lux, although she was in Chile through the holidays before going back to NYC 🤷🏻‍♀️

[ccreyes821]

Promoción por el día del padre para el lindo país de #Chile Regálale lo mejor a tu #papá #esposo #yerno #abuelo #amigo Envios a todo el país de chile, entra al enlace de mi BIO y selecciona tu país. Para pedidos y consultas llamar o escribir por WhatsApp: 🇵🇪 Peru: +51 990 994 424 🇺🇸 Estados Unidos : +1 650 309 8214 O compras mediante la: Web: https://ifuxion.com/ccreyesz #papa #papafit #papádeportista #productosnaturales #gym #gimnasio #postentreno #recuperacion #regeneración #santiagochile #viñadelmar #valparaiso #laserena #lapatagonia #balmaceda #puertomontt #concepcion #antofagasta #fitnessaddict #vegan #vegetariano #vegano #fit #organic https://www.instagram.com/p/CBTiKfzDfP7/?igshid=1kmg06624pzj5

[bluemusickid]

These are mad cute. Side note: glad to know parents around the world at all ages love to shove their phone in your face to take a pic lmao

[travesiasudamerica-blog]

“No hay fragilidad más grande, que aquella que esconden las personas fuertes“ (Letizia Ribechini).

Me carga cuando vas a un lugar por algo y no lo consigues, en especial cuando de verdad lo necesitas. Siempre me frustro un montón cuando las cosas no salen como lo planifico, aunque a veces (después de la frustración, obvio) salen mucho mejor.

Resulta que nosotros estábamos buscando pasajes directo hacia Máncora, pero hay montón de pueblos entre medio, así que nos decidimos a ir a un pueblo cercano y luego a Máncora, lo que incluso sale más barato. Nuestro destino fue Talara. Encontramos pasajes para esa misma noche.

Nos despedimos de nuestros amigos Adrián y Carlos, besos, abrazos y mucha buena energía. Dejamos nuestro equipaje en la oficina de la empresa donde viajaríamos (nos cobraron sobre equipaje, sólo porque tenemos una caja y no una mochila, son unos abusadores) y nos fuimos hacia “Plaza Norte” en busca de wifi. “Plaza Norte” es un mall y todos los mall son iguales, así que mucho que ver allí no había, solo sirvió para hacer hora mientras esperábamos abordar el bus. Abordamos cerca de las 20 horas, al subir no hubo ni wifi ni azafata, tampoco hubo video ni cena, pero por lo menos íbamos cómodos. Ya estábamos listos para emprender viaje cuando la señora sentada al lado de Víctor se puso a discutir, porque ella había pedido “expresamente” ir sentada con una mujer, que ella no podía “estar con un hombre al lado”, ni que el gordo fuese a pellizcarla por la noche, vieja loca, no estaba ni rica jajaja. La cosa es que para no armar conflicto decidimos que Sophia se sentara con la ‘eñora para que cortara el escándalo y partiera el bus.

Fue un viaje agotador, más de 18 horas a bordo del bus, menos mal a la ‘eñora al lado de la Sophy le duró poco el enojo, porque después conversó con ella y la alimentó jaja Sophia me miraba y me decía en mute “te lo doy, no quiero más comida”, y nosotros le decíamos que recibiera no más jajaja. Finalmente llegamos a Talara. Bajamos del bus y debíamos dirigirnos hacia otro terminal, el terminal Eppo. Al bajar fuimos bombardeados por las moto taxis (motos que tienen como un carrito y que te llevan a todos lados en los pueblos pequeños de la costa del Perú), uno ofreció llevarnos al terminal de Eppo por 6 soles, entré al terminal a que alguien me cambiara un billete de 100 soles para poder pagar al del moto taxi y nadie me quería cambiar, hasta que una señora me dijo que me cambiaba, me dio más miedo, porque saco su monederito y comenzó a sacar billetes jajaja pensé que era cabrona o algo así jeje. En eso volví y el tipo de la mototaxi ya nos estaba cobrando 10 soles, miré al que estaba al lado de él y le dije: “6 soles al terminal de Eppo” “Vamos”, el otro loco quedó alegando que él nos había ofrecido llevarnos antes, pero nah que ver andar subiendo el precio, así se pierden los clientes jaja.

La cosa es que llegamos al terminal de Eppo y justo en 5 minutos más salía un bus hacia Máncora, rápidamente el gordo fue a comprar pasajes mientras yo llegaba con los bultos hacia el bus para subirnos, no recuerdo exactamente cuánto es el pasaje de Talara a Máncora, pero más de 10 soles nica. Nos subimos a la velocidad de la luz y nos acomodamos, el viaje dura alrededor de una hora (quizás un poco más) y recordé tanto el camino de Balmaceda a Coyhaique, porque aparte de subir por entre los cerros, me mareé caleta. En este viaje pucha que he aprendido a marearme en los buses jaja.

Finalmente llegamos a Máncora a eso de las 5 de la tarde, el terminal de Eppo (el de bajada, porque el de subida está en otro lado) queda casi a la salida del pueblo, así que había que caminar. Máncora es un pueblo re’chico, se recorre como en una hora a pie, pero con el calor que hace, más las mochilas y el cansancio, igual es harto. Así que paramos en la plaza para descansar un rato. Mientras tanto, el gordo fue a recorrer para buscar hostel. Nos quedamos con la Sophy sentadas y cagadas de calor, más encima yo andaba como enojada porque no sabía si quería estar en Máncora, pero el gordo tenía tantas ganas de ir, que fuimos.

Al rato llegó el gordo, lo primero que me dijo es que nos habían discriminado en el Loki, el Loki es una cadena de hostels presente en muchos lugares (Máncora, Cusco, La Paz, etc.) caracterizada por ser de muy buen ambiente, de no tan alto costo, y bien fiesteros; bueno, nos discriminaron porque viajamos en familia, y en el hostel hay un bar dentro, por lo que por política de la empresa no pueden hospedar niñ@s (igual bien, porque allí hay rumba todo el día, no es como familiars).  Bueno, será en otro momento jaja. El gordo me dijo que también recorrió otros hostales y hostels y el más barato que había encontrado era “Ángeles del Mar”, ahí algo ya no me empezó a gustar, porque me intentó convencer con mucho ahínco de que nos quedáramos allí, “que estaba cerca de la playa” “que él se había quedado ahí y que…” AER! STOP! Paremos un metro acá. En este punto de la historia tengo que explicar sucesos anteriores y porqué motivo, razón y/o circunstancia yo no quería ir a Máncora, para ello debo retroceder en el tiempo espacio y recordar las sabias palabras de mi queridísima suegra y cuñadas que resuenan en mis oídos como una voz en off: “No vayas a Máncora, nos caes bien y queremos volver a verte… Por favor no vayas a Máncora, las otras dos no volvieron más” CHAN!

Jajajjajajaa

La cosa es así: en la familia de Víctor existe un mito urbano (o más algo así como una maldición jaja) que reza que si Víctor va con una de sus pololas (novia, amante, poniente, peoresnada, etc.) a Máncora Beach, la susodicha no volverá a ser vista con él, ósea:  kaput, fuiste buena, gracias pero no gracias, hasta siempre… Por lo tanto, cuando comenzamos a planear este viaje, lo que más me recomendaron mi suegrita hermosa y mis cuñaditas bellas fue no pisar Máncora si quería que la cosa del amorío diera pa’ largo. Además, pa’ que estamos con cosas, esto es una hueá de minas. Mi ego femenino estaba echo mierda, a ninguna mujer le gusta que la lleven a los mismos lugares en los que el macho pecho pelúo estuvo con la otrrrrraaa. Por eso mi carita de “no quiero estar aquí” y mi actitud de “lo hago por amors, pero no tengo ganas”.

Así que ustedes féminas que me leen, entenderán que yo no quería ir más encima al mismo hostal. Porque SÍ, Víctor llevo a dos de sus ex’s al MISMO hostal. Que quede claro que yo a mi gordo lo amo y lo considero un regalo del pulento en mi vida, pero él sabe que nuestra relación se basa en el “hueveo mutuo”, así que le dije: AER!! No podí ser tan cara de raja de llevarme ahí mismo poh!

Pero fui, yo no sé si porque soy muy hueona, porque “le amo” o porque definitivamente, el hostal era el más barato (y sí, está a media cuadra de la playa). Además, porque quiera o no quiera, siempre me hago la fuerte, cuando en realidad mostrar la fragilidad humana no tiene nada de malo, a todos nos duelen distintas cosas,todos nos quebramos en algún momento, mostrar debilidad no me hará mejor ni peor persona.

Luego de instalarnos, salimos a buscar un lugar donde comer porque ya eran casi las 7 de la tarde. Comimos, dimos la vuelta respectiva por la playa y después a dormir. Al día siguiente despertamos con el ruido de las olas a lo lejos, salimos y el pueblo ya estaba funcionando, al pasar por cada tienda se escucha “hola guapa/guapo tengo polos de Máncora” “Pasa hermosa/princesa por la compra de tu polo te regalo un collar y una pulsera de la buena suerte”. Cada vez que pasaba por allí el ego me subía a las nubes jaja.

Por la tarde fuimos a la playa, “al agüita calentita” según Víctor, la gorda fue la que más disfrutó, porque es como una sirenita jaja, luego y para aprovechar los servicios del hostal nos fuimos a “sacar la arena” a la piscina. Ya, igual tengo que aceptar que el hostal era pulento porque tenía piscina jaja, además igual nos daban desayunito con juguito natural.

Salimos de nuevo a comer, porque los menús/cenas en Máncora son re’ baratos, puedes conseguir un menú completo por 10 soles (sopa/entrada, segundo y juguito).  No comimos menú al final porque no nos gustó ( a mi no me gustó jaja) ninguna opción. Terminamos comiendo hamburguesa con papas fritas, las mejores hamburguesas con papas fritas (creo que tengo un serio problema con la comida, porque cuando tengo hambre SIEMPRE debo comer la mejor comida del mundo, LA MEJOR). Así que comimos y aprovechamos de que nos comieran los mosquitos también, porque puta que son molestosos.

Al día siguiente recorrimos el mercado, comimos en un lugar que nos pareció agradable y de vuelta nos animamos a capear el calor con unas cremoladas, que son como un helado frappé (helo molido) con pulpa de frutas (yo comí de guanábana, que es como chirimoya, el gordo comió de mango y la toti de coco) por la tarde partimos nuevamente a la playa, nos sacamos la arena en la piscina y al sobre. Al día siguiente partiríamos hacia Tumbes, para seguir nuestra ruta a Ecuador.

A mitad de noche sentí al gordo pararse al baño, ya fue raro cuando lo sentí por segunda vez, por tercera, le hablé y no me decía, ya me preocupé cuando lo sentí vomitar. Le dí Viadil y logró dormir un rato más. Como a la hora después, de nuevo. Pero lo más raro fue que después cuando logré volver conciliar el sueño me empezaron los retorcijones de guata mí. Así que el resto de la noche nos turnamos el baño entre el gordo y yo, Sophia ni siquiera despertó. Lo peor de la noche vino cuando se nos acabó el papel higiénico y tuvimos que ocupar las toallitas húmedas, nunca pensé que serían tan salvadoras y debo aceptar que igual fue bastante cómodo ocuparlas, ya sé porque 8 de cada 10 bebés las prefieren jaja. A la mañana siguiente no éramos buenos para nada, Víctor ya no tenía nada que botar en el baño y yo comencé con los vómitos, la única en un estado normal (y con hambre) era Sophia. En esas condiciones nica podíamos viajar, la única solución era ir al centro de salud más cercano. Le hablé a mi tía Ani (enfermera) por wahtsapp y le pregunté qué hacer, me aconsejó irnos de inmediato al consultorio, me dijo claramente “si les da fiebre, es dengue, y si no, es algo que les cayó mal al estómago y necesitan suero y medicamentos”. Creo que ahí me asusté, me tomé la temperatura y se la tomé al gordo, ninguno de los dos tenía fiebre, lo más probable era que algo nos jodió la guata.

Me vestí como pude, ni siquiera me lavé la cara. El gordo apenas caminaba. Yo tenía ganas de vomitar todo el rato. Salimos del hostal y tomamos una moto taxi, nos cobró tres soles hasta el consultorio y se fue a la velocidad de la luz. Cuando llegamos le dijimos a la enfermera nuestros síntomas, había también un padre como con 5 cabros chicos, todos enfermos. La enfermera nos dijo que después de él, nos tocaba a nosotros pasar con el doctor. El caballero estaba desesperado, sus niños estaban afiebrados. Pasamos con el doctor, le contamos lo que nos pasaba, no nos revisó, ni siquiera nos tocó (no es que yo quisiera que el doctor me tocara jajaja pero mínimo que me pegara una revisadita piola), nos recetó suero y medicamentos. Le dio la receta al gordo, pasamos a la farmacia del consultorio y la paramédico nos dijo que tenía todo, menos dos medicamentos, que teníamos que comprarlos, eran unas ampollas. Ahí mismo nos contó que a los cabros chicos les harían examen de sangre porque creían que tenían denge, así que no nos acercaramos a ellos. Miedi.  El gordo se hizo el valiente y fue a la farmacia más cercana, cuando volvió, nos metieron a los tres dentro de un box con dos camas, sentaron a la Sophy en una silla y nosotros a las camillas, yo no valía ni un peso.

Nos pusieron la vía y acto seguido nos empezaron a pasar el suero. No es que yo sepa mucho de pinchazos, ni ampollas ni nada, pero se me hizo raro cuando la enfermera: abrió una ampolla, metió lo que ésta tenía en una jeringa y después abrió otra ampolla y le mandó el medicamento a la misma jeringa, conchasumare’! Según yo, eso como que no se puede hacer o si? Filo, no podía ni hablar de lo mal que me sentía, así que me rendí.

La enfermera empezó a pasar el medicamento hacia la vía y me dijo: “puede que te sientas mareada”, yo respondí: “no, no siento nada”. Terminó de pasar el medicamento hacia mi vena y a los 30 segundos el mundo se me dio vuelta, me mareé caleta, sentí como se me hubiese tirado del xtreme fall de fantasilandia y después me hubiese subido a la peor montaña rusa del mundo mundial comiendo hamburguesas con salsa barbacue. PEOR! Yo le hablaba al gordo y lo veía triple jajaja y me decía: “Ya va a pasar, cierra los ojos”. Yo lo miraba y él estaba con los ojos cerrados, así que decidí hacer lo mismo, en eso miré a mi lado y la enfermera y la paramédico se habían ido, solo vi la carita de mi Sophy que lo único que reflejaba era tristeza y preocupación: “No quiero que se mueran” nos dijo. Me dio una pena, pero me sentía tan como el hoyo que solo le dije que eso no iba a pasar y ella me dio la manito, me tuvo tomada de la mano la hora entera que tardó en pasar el suero y me hacía cariño en la frente. Más linda, ella nos cuidó, mientras nosotros valíamos callampa como adultos responsables jaja.

Cuando terminó de pasar el suero nos sacaron las vías y nos mandaron a la casa, nos dieron más medicamentos. Pagamos, la consulta más barata de la historia de la medicina para extranjeros jaja, pagamos cerca de 30 soles, unas 6 lucas chilenas. Tomamos una moto taxi hasta el centro de Máncora, pasamos a sacar plata al banco y nos fuimos a la farmacia, compramos los medicamentos y después a la tienda de al lado por agua y gatorade. También le compramos comida a Sophia porque no teníamos intención de salir nuevamente del hostal. Nos quedamos en modo enfermo todo el resto del día, creo que fue la mejor jornada para Sophia porque vio series en su Tablet todo el día, mientras el gordo y yo solo despertábamos para tomarnos los medicamentos o beber un poco de gatorade. Por la noche ya me sentía mejor y salí a comprar jalea para nosotros y comida para Sophia, nos topamos con una fiesta del pueblo, había como un carnaval en las calles, el gordo se lo perdió porque no se podía el poto jajaja.

Al día siguiente mucho más repuestos de todo, empacamos y nos fuimos hacia el centro. Tomamos un mini bus hacia Tumbes, que sale alrededor de 10 soles. El camino hacia Tumbes dura más o menos hora y media, y el paisaje es hermoso porque vas rodeando toda la costa. Al llegar los taxis nos bombardearon, todos nos ofrecían llevarnos a la frontera: OJO acá, si van a ir a Ecuador, prefieran ir en bus, si van en taxi a la frontera aparte de cobrarles la vida, los van a intentar estafar. Nosotros hicimos como que los taxistas no existían y nos pusimos a caminar, más allá preguntamos desde dónde salían los buses hacia Ecuador, un caballero muy amable de una moto taxi dijo que estaba más o menos lejos, y ofreció cobrarnos tres soles por llevarnos. Nos subimos porque ya habíamos caminado mucho y los bultos pesan un montón. Cuando llegamos al terminal había un bus que salía hacia Guayaquil, recuerdo que el pasaje estaba barato, así que compramos directo a Guayaquil. En eso estábamos cuando apareció una chiquilla, nos consultó la ruta hacia Ecuador porque ella quería ir a la ciudad de Cuenca, pero para ello debía ir a Guayaquil y luego tomar otro bus, no se veía muy convencida, conversamos con ella un rato hasta que se nos ocurrió preguntar de dónde era: era chilena, su nombre es Catalina y es patagona, oriunda de Punta Arenas. Que felicidad más grande encontrarla, es como cuando encuentras algo que no sabías que habías perdido y te invaden sentimientos extraños de cercanía. Finalmente convencimos a Catalina de ir hacia Guayaquil, era la ruta más segura hacia Ecuador.

Al rato, abordamos el bus, era un bus grande (como de 40 asientos aprox.), pero íbamos alrededor de 15 personas en el bus, partimos rumbo a la frontera. Al llegar al edificio de migración peruano había muchos buses y una tremenda fila, “tendremos pa’ rato” pensé. Sophia se sentó en el piso y sacó su libro (estaba leyendo La casa de los espíritus, de Isabel Allende) para leer, la fila no avanzaba. Hacía un calor infernal. Unas gringas delante de nosotros sacaron cartas y comenzaron a jugar un juego que yo sólo he visto en películas, era chistoso porque se decían: “go to fish” (anda a pescar). Pasaba la hora y nadie preguntaba nada. En eso el gordo se escurrió y fue a preguntar al mesón: “se cayó el sistema”. Nadie puede salir del Perú hasta nuevo aviso. ¡¡¿Por qué a nosotros Jebús?!!.

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“Llego el Momento” ( Lease con voz en off de Rojo jajajaja)

Llegó la mañana y con ella la nueva oportunidad para nuestra revisión técnica. Don Herman (nuestro héroe y mecánico) llegó muy temprano a poner nuestra manilla hechiza, porque en ningún local de repuestos en tooooda la ciudad de Coyhaique estaba la manilla que correspondía, así que tocó poner una “a la mala” y pedirle al chiquillo que llevaba al Piwke a la revisión que ojalá no movieran la manilla.

Pusimos a todos los santos de cabeza, prendimos todos los inciensos posibles, palo santo, nos bailamos una danza astral y el gordo dijo que se podía convertir y seguir al pulento si todo salía bien. Y salió. Llegó el tipo con nuestro Piwke y nos entregó todos los papeles. FELICIDAD EN NUESTRO CORAZÓN!! Nos abrazamos y saltamos, obvio. En seguida tocaba el permiso de circulación y el seguro, un trámite. Luego el mecánico quería verlo de nuevo, el piwke tenía una fuga de aceite.

Ese día por la noche terminamos de embalar nuestra vida, desocupando nuestra pieza, nuestro hogar. Los closets vacíos, las mochilas listas. Revisamos cada uno de los papeles y carpetas que teníamos, en una especie de limpieza del alma y del pasado botamos a la basura de todo, carpetas de trabajos, fotocopias, papeles sin fin, algunas fotos y recuerdos de épocas que nos hicieron felices pero que terminaron tristemente, y así nos liberamos de la carga que no queríamos llevar. Mañana comienza un nuevo camino. Salimos a despedirnos de Claudia, hermana de Víctor, de su esposo Pato y Pipe, el sobrino. Nos despedimos rápido y sé que se quedaron con un montón de preocupación por nosotros, pero sabían que mayores eran nuestras ganas de irnos que de esperar un día más. En el camino pasamos a conocer la casa nueva y a despedirnos de Mauro, hermano del gordo y Deysi y las sobrinas bebés: Maite y Vale; también intentamos “Hacerla corta”, a esas alturas ya las despedidas se ponen más difíciles. Yo no sé por qué pero siempre las despedidas son tristes, no hay despedida que a uno lo deje tranquilo.

Miércoles. Todo listo. Última visita donde Don Herman para ultísimos detalles. Yo ponía en orden lo último también: había que dejar la pieza operativa para que Gerardo (el negro impróstico) la ocupara, el pobre llevaba días durmiendo en el living y creo que su espalda ya no sorportaría un día más.

Casi las 17 hrs. y el gordo no llegaba, comencé a desesperarme y también a desilusionarme. Nooooo un día más aquí noooooo porfavaaaaar. Pero llegó, casi a las 17.30 pero llegó, cuando llegó le dije: “Nos quedamos” (con la carita más penosa que puedan imaginar) y mi gordo enérgicamente respondió: “Ni cagando!”. Embalamos todo, comenzó de nuevo la rutina de las despedidas, besos y abrazos. Lloré. Porque soy súper sentimental y porque en las despedidas siempre la gente dice cosas bonitas, así que imagínense.

Nos subimos al piwke, esperanzados nos fuimos hacia la casa de Don Herman, ahora sí que sí era la última repasada. Cuando estábamos allí, llegó Harlan y su familia (él fue quien nos recomendó a don Herman, claro, si es su papá), lloré una vez más, de verdad que mi sensibilidad estaba a flor de piel. Llamé al negro para que nos hiciera unos sandwish (sí, el negro es chef y sí usted pasa por Coyhaique, tiene la obligación de pasar a comer a Adobe, los mejores sandwish de toda la región), porque ya eran cerca de las 8 de la tarde y me rugía la panza. Luego de la despedida en casa de Don Herman, nos fuimos al Adobe, besos y abrazos con el negro, nos pasó los sandwish; llegó también Pedro (amigo de Victor, dueño de restaurant Ruibarbo: también, si va por Coyhaique vaya, inprescindible) y entre besos y abrazos y buenos deseos Pedro dijo que lo esperáramos un minuto; cruzó hacia el restaurant y volvió con una hoja de laurel y le pidió a Víctor que la pusiera en la billetera. Más adelante sabrán para qué y por qué.

En eso me llama Feña, por cosas de la pega había viajado al sur de la región y no podríamos despedirnos, después de palabras de despedida y buenos deseos solo atiné a decirle: “lo siento, perdiste”, a lo que me respondió: “El honor es el honor y las apuestas se pagan”. Gracias Feña, espero que hayan disfrutado ese Wishkey con el negro.

Eran pasadas las 8 de la tarde, tomamos camino hacia Balmaceda, con nuestro cultrún (hecho por las manitas de Laurita) y el rosario que me regaló mi abuelita como guías tomamos el by pass hasta el monumento del mate: una despedida de Coyhaique muy tradicional. El Piwke recién ajustado, no podía superar los 80 km/h, así que al gordo le tocó calcular al ojo (o al pie jajaja) la velocidad, ya que los marcadores de piwke no funcionaban (sólo el de batería y bencina), imagínense la tarea difícil. Delante de nosotros un camino que normalmente se hace en 40 min,  logramos hacerlo en una hora y media.

Llegamos a Balmaceda  a las 21:40 hrs, teníamos que pasar a mi antigua casa a buscar “lo que me quedaba olvidado allí” y la frontera la cerraban a las 22 en punto. Bajamos corriendo, saqué y metí cosas dentro del piwke, besos y abrazos a Valentina Rusia porfiá Urrutia y a la Cami, tomamos camino hacia la frontera. Llegamos, como tenemos un enviado del pulento que siempre nos ayuda, en la frontera estaba Melissa (polola de uno de los mejores amigos del gordo, el Tero) y como si lo hubiésemos planeado así el gordo entra y le dice: “Srta. Ha llegado su pedido desde Coyhaique” y le entrega uno de los sandwish (ven que sí eran importantes los sanguches en esta historia, aunque sí, son los mejores y todos traen papas fritas jajaja). La Meli toda linda nos hizo el trámite en dos minutos, pasamos a aduana y el hombre nos pide un permiso notarial porque yo soy la dueña del auto pero yo no iba manejando: QUE ESTUPIDEZ!!!!. Me hizo firmar a mí y al gordo para poder sacar el auto fuera de Chile, que tontera. Afuera estaba Sophia con su mejor amiga Gaby. Les agradezco Kathy y Nelson por correr desde la base aérea con Gaby y Monse para que se despidieran de Sophia.

Listo, tenemos la venia para salir de Chile. Yuhuuu! Directo a la frontera Argentina. Entramos y dimos las gracias porque ya eran pasadas las 22 horas, el policía argentino pidió documentos: es decir pasaporte y cédulas. Lo revisa, nos mira y nos dice: “Señor, su pasaporte no está timbrado”.