Com(m)unicate - Vol V Issue III by Guzman Julio

Table of Contents

Vol IV, Issue iI Com(m)unicate is a bilingual publication dedicated to sharing student voice and writing of Colegio Nueva Granada. Editors Marian A. Lucía G.

Copy Editor Jack A.

Layout & Online Portal Editor Camila S.

Writers Alfonso C. Lucía G. Marian A. María G. Camila S. Sarah K. Juanita C. Juliana L. Adelaida L. Jack A. Jorge Luis G. Juliana C. Diego R. Sergio L. Natalia A.

Design Editors Nicole D. Juliana C. Design Team Marcela C. Maria G. Silvana J. Camila S. Stella H. Comic Artist Samuel T. Special Thanks to Ms. Kaun Mr. Tangen Dr. Carriazo Ms. Paez Publications Department

iV viii

Marian A. & Lucía G.

Money, Sports, and the Absutdity of it All

xxiVCNG’s Mysterious Love

Alfonso C.

x xii

It’s Blue, It’s White Juanita C. & Sarah K.

The Guilty Pleasure Adelaida L.

it From a Gamer xiv Take Diego R.

xvi Juliana C.

They Exist

Past, Present, Future

xviii Jorge Luis G.

Detrás de un Monstruo

xxii Siempre Hay...

“The Book of Cayetano”

The Biology of Monsters Jack A.

Sergio L.

Monsters

Sarah K. & Juliana L.

xxViiiThe Cycle of Monstrosity Natalia A.

xxX 7.7 Kilometros de Terror María G. & Camila S.

xxXv It

Never Leaves, It Just Changes Samuel T.

“The name is Raphael, and would you mind explaining to me what, in God’s name, is going on?”

The eye within the beating heart looked up towards the towering giant, who with his magic pencil created the world around them. The eye looked around its surroundings. It felt strange. The pumping blood that ran through the heart made a strange thump thump against the fragile skin of the eye. The eye’s name was George. George the eye, planted into a bright beating heart. George was more than a bit confused as to how he got there. One second he was nothing; the next, with the magical stroke of a pencil, he was now floating against the wall, stuck inside a heart. But there are worse things than being stuck in a heart, and better to make use of the situation.

George jumped at the opportunity to explain. It made him feel superior to this terrifying creature, because obviously an eye implanted into a heart is not at all slightly frightening. “Well, you see, look at this giant over there,” George signaled in front of him to where the giant was still drawing against the wall, “ it appears as though he and his pencil are what are creating us. You see, first came this heart around me, then me, then these strange mushrooms surrounding the heart, and now you, Raphael, have joined the party. Strange isn’t it?”

“Psh,” whispered George, hoping that the beating heart could hear him, “Anyone there?”

“Yes, most peculiar,” responded Raphael. If his facial features could change, his expression would be one of confusion and awe, “But, tell me George, who is this giant with such unearthly powers?”

The heart didn’t respond, instead it went on singing its little thump thump beat. George felt a wave of dismay. Would he have to forever maintain this lonely silence, just watching the giant continue to loom over him? George could already imagine those lonely years ahead, just him and the thump thump, with that strange,small cat looking at him from the outside.

the book of cayetano By Marian A. & Lucía G.

George was taken aback. He looked back towards the giant. He had watched this giant his whole life — an excruciating ten minutes— but he never wondered who he was. He was just a god, unquestionable. But as he now looked closer at him, he realized who he really was.

“Hey, you! Eye thingy,” George looked up, startled. He thought maybe it was the heart, but it was mindlessly continuing its humming. George looked around the wall, trying to see what it was that called out to him. “Up here, you slimy ball!” George snapped looking up towards the ceiling. He was bewildered to find a strange face peering at him. It was a sharp, angular face. Two eyes and everything, even horns sprouting out the top of his head. He had a crazy and terrified look, his mouth contorted into a deadly frown.

Yes, suddenly George knew all about his creator. Every stroke of the pencil screamed the giant’s emotions and thoughts. Of course, thought George, I am his own creation. I can truly understand who he is. For he was art, and art, as eloquently put by this giant, is an expression of feelings and thoughts. Art is the one scenario in which this giant felt free to put out his emotions, to truly be himself. Through art he confronted his inner demons and depicted his most relished joys.

“Um, hello,” said George hesitantly. Although it was a relief to know he wasn’t alone, but the saying ‘no company is better than bad company’ kept ringing in his thoughts. “I’m George, who are you?”

A name rang in his hypothetical ear, Cayetano. Wait a little more, Sanz. Just a bit more, de. One last part called, Santamaria. Yes that was it, Cayetano Sanz de Santamaria. The artist, the writer, the creator, the wizard, the giant.

more characters from His mind. If George can already come to life, a simple, static drawing on a wall, just think of all the possibilities of so many more creations. Who cares about Monsters Inc. or Shrek anymore, you will be seeing many more George types flying through television.

And can’t you see him doing precisely that. George shuts his lid and tries to picture that future, and can see it clearly. That fascinating world filled with humor and talent, never ending wonder. George looks up again at the giant with awe. Imagine that, the ultimate power to create millions of worlds, and millions of lives, with just a stroke of a pencil.

It was hard at first, deciding what the best career choice was for Him. But then it hit him, that character development was the best way he could project that innate talent, mixed with his unparalleled humor. “Family Guy and such are my favorites. That kind of mocking of society is what I strive for.”

George could now reach into his thoughts, truly understanding what the giant was thinking. He recalled the times in which drawing became the only way out. When, after a brawl with another giant, giantess or even with himself, retreating into the confines of paper and pencil seemed like the best relief and inspiration.

for the peace of mind that came with letting his feelings flow unto the paper. He even, quite masochistically, enjoyed the frustration that not being able to accurately portray his ideas brought to him. So thank you, Proctor Academy in New Hampshire, for not having as many exciting things to do and making Him a bit of a recluse. Without you we wouldn’t have Him.

George looked to the giant’s memories of the boarding school. Those years that truly connected him more to the power of his art and writing, and on how the best way to face reality was escaping into his magic. It is in situations like that where true artists arise. Think about it, in the midst of school stress, endless winters, and a longing for friends back home, what better place for a mastermind and his masterpieces to arise. Sure, He might have become somewhat antisocial, might have stayed longer in his room than He’d like to admit, but His hands twitched at the possibility of going inside and grabbing that distinct hexagonal shape that His magic wands hold. His ears craved for that peculiar scratching sound made between the granite tip of the wand and the uneven surface of the paper. Most importantly however, His mind wished

George laughed at some of the dark,witty thoughts going through Cayetano’s head. His idea to write a satirical novel is golden, sure to be a success. He’s thinking big, like Animal Farm o Don Quixote big. From writing hilarious party descriptions to making spot-on jokes in any situation, how could Caye’s masterpiece of humor not make it big. More characters, such as George, whirl through Cayetano’s thoughts. Laguna Beach, yes George sees his future there. His passion lies in animation, in developing characters such as George, and creating more worlds such as he is doing in this blank wall. He wants to be able to share these little monsters inside his head with the rest of the world. Imagine that, a world filled with

VII

Say What?

The Numbers Money, Sports, and the

Absurdity of It All By Alfonso C. Sports used to be about love for the game. They used to be about passion for the team. They used to be about what happened inside the pitch, court, or field. But no longer. Turn on the TV. Switch over to ESPN or Fox Sports, where a Barclays Premier League match is being shown. Twenty-two players are on the pitch, supposedly giving it their all for the badge on their chest. Today it’s hard to forget that players do things simply for their outrageous wages. In early February, the Barclays Premier League announced a new TV deal with staggering numbers. Estimated at five billion pounds (approximately $7.715 billion USD), it represents a seventy percent increase on the previous one. Where will all this money go?

Don’t get me wrong, I love sports. This love, however, is not blinding me from the absurdity that money has made of them. To prove this, just think of the Martin Ødegaard transfer saga that happened this past winter. Let’s start with the most important fact: Ødegaard is sixteen years old. He is just old enough to drive. And he had the richest clubs in world football chasing after him, providing him with hospitality as he went around Europe trying to decide to which club he wished to go. In the end he decided to go to Real Madrid, where he is earning $121,600 USD every week. At sixteen.

I have no doubt that Ødegaard loves soccer as much if not more than me, and nobody is going to reject a high salary. He is not to blame for getting all the money he does. The system we as a society seem to function in, one where we are ok with athletes earning more than teachers, doctors, and soldiers, is. Unless this changes, and the increased TV deal seems to point otherwise, we will continue to glorify those players while the real difference makers toil away at their jobs, earning fractions of what they deserve.

Many like to think that is going to be spread from top to bottom. That the money will be used to better the infrastructure in the areas around stadiums. That it will be spent at the grass-root level of the sport, hence benefiting the fans who make such a TV deal possible. Only a miniscule part of the new money will be spent there, with the vast majority of it soon to be used to bump players wages even more and to break more transfer records. That is, in essence, the problem with professional sports today. Because no matter how excited I get about the Champions League knockout rounds, I can’t ignore that the players trying to kick a ball into a net are getting payed more in a week than most doctors, teachers, or soldiers do in a year. And that’s messed up.

scientific

condor

it’s blue, it’s white What Color Is this dress? By Juanita C. & Sarah K. A few months ago, people began raving about the “insanity” involving this new Internet phenomenon and have been desperately seeking for an explanation of THAT dress. With team white and gold battling against black and blue, uncertainty has crept its way into the minds of people all over the world as they wonder and debate on who sees the dress correctly. Color blindness, eyesight problems and mood swing conspiracies aside, the actual science behind the dress is even more mind blowing than the picture itself.

At first sight, you can see how the cube at the top of the image is clearly darker than the one on the bottom, right? Now, place your finger along the center of the image so that you cover the line in which the two cubes connect.

Observe this picture :

Are the cubes still different in color?

The highlights and shadows surrounding the main body of the cubes, along with the differently lit backgrounds, cause your brain to make sense of the cubes as being different in color. Remove these details, and you will see that the the cubes are actually identically colored.

The truth is– the way you see the dress is all a matter of perception.

With the dress, it’s the same principle, but a little more complex.

In order to make sense of the world around us, our brains need to be able to interpret when lighting affects the color of an object. If not, we would see things as changing color every time there was a change in the light surrounding the object. Think about it– when you see an object pass from a bright place to underneath a shadow, you see it go darker, but you don’t perceive that it changed color. Your brain perceives the light setting around the object and assigns a color to it based on this perception. Here’s an example.

The people who see the dress white and gold are likely to perceive the dress being surrounded by blue light, probably coming from a sunny evening with a blue sky, therefore interpreting the blue color in the image as a result of the reflection of the light on a white substance. On the other hand, people who see it blue and black perceive the dress as being in a setting under an artificial yellow light, not affecting the blue color of the dress and interpreting the goldish color of the stripes as a result of the reflection of the yellow light on a black cloth.

Confusing? Weird? Very, but this is just one example of how amazing and mysterious our brains still are to us. When it comes down to this hoax, it all depends on individual perception and how and where you see the dress, and people aren’t simply joking or messing with you. And, for the people who see the dress white and gold–

The dress is black and blue.

the

guilty

pleasure By Adelaida L. Ever been disturbed by a growling, rackety stomach? Ever felt subjugated by your own organism’s will? Inevitably, your stomach will always get it its way. One may choose to refrain from food for as long as one feels able to. However, the stomach is always stronger. Eventually, you will succumb to the guilty pleasure of food, want it or not. Hunger fights its way into your top priorities, leaving you with no other option than to engage in a treacherous search for food. This is, potentially, one of the most irritable feelings out there. Sooner or later, you will not only feel weakened by your growling stomach, but by the superfluous additional pounds you just put on with your last meal. Unfortunately, it does not stop there. Before you know it, you will be repeating the same vicious cycle over and over again. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. Many of you may be familiar with this feeling, or may I say, frustration. Hunger makes it into you before you have a chance to put an end to it. Why not acknowledge hunger as a virus? After all, the entire humankind is required to deal with this ‘virus’ once, twice, or even three times a day. Sometimes, all day long. If only immunity towards hunger existed, maybe we would be less greedy as a whole. Like it or not, we are all desirous animals, waiting to be fed.

Most of you have engaged in a battle for food once in your life, or will do so in the future. From a viewers standpoint, it might seem pretty pathetic. That is a childish move, they say. I have other priorities, they also say. Yet, many of you know what it is like to be in a line and watch how the person in front of you asks for, or may I say STEALS, the last piece of food, which happened to be what you wanted to order. Annoying, right? As mature as you play yourself to be, we all know you were devastated over a simple serving of food once or twice in your life, if not more. And if you are one of those ‘lucky’ people who has to go through this aggravating experience several times, I am sure that the same unpleasant feeling never fades away. A simple commodity, like food, is often the generator of great turmoil, whether it be between you and your loved ones, peers, strangers, and in occasion, between entire nations, as seen in the case of several battles throughout history. Besides the uneasy feeling that climbs into your stomach several times a day and deprives you from your concentration, on other, significantly more important things, hunger is also the devil that hurts millions of people worldwide who have nothing to eat to put their

stomach to rest. This same monster voraciously claims the lives of several humans that fail to succeed on the intolerable search for food. Mainly, most human poverty as we know it is derived from people being unable to fulfill this critical necessity. For those of you who undervalue the seriousness of hunger across the globe, I think you should know that hunger kills more people every year than all malaria, AIDS, and tuberculosis combined. Furthermore, the great majority of the world’s hungry people live in developing countries, including areas such as Sub-Saharan Africa, Asia, and Latin America. It’s spiteful, Hunger, very spiteful, for you, heinous creature, to take the lives of the people without even consulting them first. According to the World Food Programme, around 805 million people, or one ninth of the global population do not count with the sufficient food to sustain a healthy life. Once again, Hunger is getting its way. Unfortunately, the monster remains undefeated.

Yet, the problem does not stop there. On a daily basis, women of all ages are investing great deals of their money on dietary products that do not work. Why are women so gullible? Probably because putting on weight is one of the most diminishing things a women can experience, leading girls of all sorts to believe that the nonsense they buy in the store actually helps them lower their weight. However, the only thing they actually help is to elevate the consumer’s self-esteem. Day after day, the market brings out selectively appealing products to the public that women wait with anxiety. Repeatedly, women try to defy hunger, devote themselves to the so-claimed healthy lifestyle, and in most of the cases, they turn out to be unsuccessful. Want it or not, most of your salary, your spouse’s salary, or that of your parents is wasted in everyday food. The world goes broke because it is required to combat hunger on a daily basis. No matter how much one may try to redeem oneself for spending so much on food, there are always only two answers to the struggle. Either you spend your precious money on food and accept the fact that your money is gone or you become sick, and eventually die. And so, it is safe to say that hunger is a devilish creature, living in the shadows of your body, awaiting to get its hands dirty every minute of every day. And when it does come out of the shadows, it is as beastly as any other disease, as any other human, or as any other thought that might prevail in the darkest corners of your mind. Beware of hunger: it is only waiting to be fed.

xiii

Take It From a Gamer By Diego R. As senioritis begins to kick in, you find yourself floating from class to class, not really getting much work done, counting the days until graduation. Your motivation to do schoolwork has plummeted since you sent in all of your college applications. You need something to distract you from the monotony of the weeks to come before you are off to college. Some students around you have already found the perfect distraction, a game that keeps their mind always active with paranoia and a sense of urgency. You can tell right away that there are two kinds of players: some signed up because they thought it would be fun, only to be eliminated in the first few days, while the rest signed up to win. The students belonging to the latter group are easily recognizable, they are sprinting from block to block, asking you for a list of people you have in a class, and can’t take their mind off of their target and the

one chasing them. These people are haunted by this monster of a game, and nothing will stand in the way of their path to victory. The game Assassin (or the more school appropriate Ninja Tag) has been played in high schools and colleges across the world for years, but had only been introduced to CNG a few years ago by Gamemaster TTODD. The Game, which it is now called, had one major difference from games like Assassin or Ninja Tag: you didn’t have the name of your target, instead you had a vague outline of their schedule. Mr. Todd’s addition to the game changed it from a big game of tag in the hallways to an incredibly complicated game of espionage and information exchange. This meant that to win, sprinting from class to class is not enough, a large portion of your time has to be devoted to finding your target.

In signing up for this game my goal was to win regardless of the consequences. I signed up because of a thirst for revenge from last year, where after a few broken fingers I was disqualified on a technicality. Winning this game really only requires an unbreakable determination and belief in oneself. My strategy was based on the fable The Tortoise and the Hare, in that I wasn’t about to rack up as many kills as I could since it would put me at risk too often, instead I would play the game slowly and conservatively, ensuring my own safety and only getting my target when the situation is optimal.

I stopped talking to people. After being disqualified for alleged violence, I stopped and realized how much it wasn’t worth it. My first walk after being disqualified was the most free I have ever felt. Sometimes we get so wrapped up in games that we forget about everything else around us. We are so focused on winning that we end up losing some of our humanity.

I took it too far. I spent so much of my time focused on this game that it was the only thing I talked about. It became difficult to hang out with me at all during school because I was always paranoid and couldn’t take my mind off of the game. Unless I was specifically asking someone if they had a class a certain period

They Exist By Juliana C. “I am not a monster. I am not a creature of tooth or claw, scales or deformity – I am not any sort of monster that is an evil antagonist bent on chaos and destruction… My transsexual peers and I are not inhuman monsters; we are instead fully human,” writes Autumn Sandeen, writer of www.lgbtweekly.com. Our society is full of horrible monsters. People that kill, rape, or kidnap people into slavery. Yet, in the eyes of society, they will never look as monstrous as a person who decided to be their true self. Today, transsexuals could probably be placed at the bottom of the social pyramid. They are one of the most abused and disrespected minorities in society today. Many people often fight for gay rights, the violated rights of the black population, and the inferior position of women. However, only few fight for transsexual rights. Many people don’t know about the transsexual population. They have no knowledge of their lifestyle, how much discrimination they face, etc. And many times, this ignorance leads to the oblivion of their lifestyle, thus forgetting that transsexual people are human beings that deserve the same rights we have. For starters, transsexual people don’t usually suffer a mental disease. There is a disorder called gender dysphoria that consists of the intense feeling of distress that one’s body does not compliment one’s gender, and a number of trans people actually suffer from that disorder. But that doesn’t imply that every

transsexual obligatorily has that disorder. Mentally, a transsexual person has the same mental health and capacity we do. Transsexuals experience different types of abuse. Today, about one fifth of the transsexual society suffers abuse or domestic violence just for identifying themselves as transsexuals. In fact, many of them are murdered by one-it stands who find out about their original gender, and these murders are justified with “trans panic defense”. This literally means that you can legally kill a transsexual person just because you thought they were different. And in my opinion, this is more monstrous than what society makes us believe monsters look like, since killing a member of your own species for fear of difference is absurd. Everyone should have the right to live, yet society always tries to kill the humans that fall out of its standards. Sadly, the number of murders is increasing rather than decreasing. In 2008, only two cases were reported, while in only 2015 nine cases have been reported. These people also have a hard time fitting in at work. One out of four transsexual people are fired for their sexual orientation, and many are harassed and discriminated at work. In fact, according to a survey made by a page called feministing.com, transgender people have double the rate of unemployment compared to the general population.

People who fight for the human rights of slaves throughout the world, but don’t respect transsexual rights are hypocrites. Like slaves are forced to do jobs they don’t like, transsexual people are forced by society to be someone they are not. Both the slave and the trans person are enclosed within a dark prison and want escape. They want to have free will of choice. If you hate your hair, and want to dye it and cut it differently, you can. This will change the way you look and make you feel more comfortable with yourself. Yet, when a transsexual changes their body to feel more comfortable about themselves, people will judge them and reject them. If someone doesn’t like how their body looks, they should have the right to change it. And if it is acceptable for others (especially famous people) to get plastic surgery and change their bodies, then it should be allowed for everyone, and specially for transgender people.

I can’t understand how people can hate others. It is impossible for me to hate another human being. I obviously like some people better than others, but hate is a terrible emotion to feel towards a living creature. And I can’t believe that people can harm or kill others just because their existence bothers them. Transsexuals as well as the other minorities (which ironically form a majority in society) deserve to be treated equally. However, it is okay to disagree with someone, as long as we respect them and the ideologies. All of the human population is anatomically, mentally, and emotionally different. And if we are all different, then we are equal. And, if we are all equal, we must share the same rights. To achieve this, we must first accept the existence of people different to us, and accept their rights. Anything they do won’t affect you. So why worry? We live in a society that cries for individuality and uniqueness, yet points out all of the people who look different and rejects them. We only deserve our rights when everybody else has them. It is time for us to recognize transsexuals as people and not as monsters.

xVii

Past, present, future

By Jorge Luis G.

The future has always carried some kind of uncertainty. After all, that is what future implies: events that we know might be happening, or could eventually happen, but no one knows exactly when or if they will occur at all. This uncertainty tends to become even more ambiguous when we talk about the future of not just one individual, or corporation, or country, but of the whole of humanity. Just think about it; the world fifty years ago resembles less the one of today than the world of yesterday, or the day before. Our planet, and consequently our species, has transformed more in the last century than in the previous millennia; yes, I guess we can call it exponential growth. But, there is no need to get into any technicalities. Change has become evident in the eyes of every generation; two generations ago, the glaciers that composed the Aconcagua peak in Chile, stretched for hundreds of meters in all four cardinal directions from the mountain’s base. A year and a half ago, when I personally went there, the glaciers had shrunk and retreated as far back as 100 meters, leaving a streak of dirty soil behind. The difference in the scene from a postcard of the place, dated to the 1950s, and the view that at the time had stood before me, was astonishing. Similarly, it is hard to think of life without all of the electronic devices that we now find a necessity on a daily basis. However, I would like to bring up the fact that just 30 years ago cellphones were the size of shoe boxes, and a decade further back, TVs had no color. Talk about change.

When we indeed talk about change, we somehow find a need to bring up the past. Politicians, business people, scientists, you name it; they all measure progress on what has changed from the past to the present. Yes, it’s all about “the GDP of such and such country has increased by 15%” or, “the advances in medicine have extended the average life expectancy by 10 years”. I think you know where I am going with this; I am sure that what I am about to propose has crossed your mind in a number of occasions throughout your life. Like, for example, whenever you go to a relative’s house, especially an older one, for instance a grandparent, and you look around the place, seeing photos that take you back to a certain place, or, more specifically, a time, (yes, those “good times” which you have heard numerous stories and anecdotes about) when the world was different. A time when people used to talk more face-to-face than they did through a screen, or played baseball in a sandlot rather than binged-watched the latest series through Netflix. Or, maybe you thought about it when you went to the local zoo, or a foreign zoo, or any zoo for that matter, and heard the tour guides say “This is a Bengal tiger. They are in danger of extinction,”; or “These, as you know, are Panda bears. There are only a few of them left in the world, and most are in captivity”. Indeed, all this will inevitably lead me, and even you, to ask, what has happened to the world?

But, from a more practical perspective, thinking about that question, basing it on the past, trying to figure out what has or has not happened, or what could have happened, is essentially counterproductive. Nothing can be done of the past, or, at least, of a non-fictional past: we can’t get on a DeLorean, hopefully equipped with a flux capacitor, and a weird-looking antenna on the roof, and drive to 88 mph in order to travel Back to the Future, (as of yet). However, what we can do, and should do, is ask the question, what will happen in the future? The future of the planet and of humanity is filled with uncertainties. Ice Caps are melting, sea levels are rising, natural disasters are ever more frequent, forests are disappearing. What will the future bring? What will the world look like, say, in 30, 50 years?

The possibilities of the future, whether good or bad, can be scary to think about. However, it is up to us to face this monster, the uncertainty of the future, and come up with solutions to secure the stability and existence of our planet, and its people, for generations to come. We can’t just sit here and do nothing, and take the chance of watching our children and grandchildren grow up in a planet where half of all life will have become extinct, or where there are still people dying of hunger. Our generation should not think of this as a burden, but, rather, a responsibility, a duty. In any case, we cannot do anything about the monsters of the past. But we are able to act and work in the present, together, towards a better future.

ixx

The biology of monsters By Jack A. What are monsters? Biologically speaking, how are they taxonomically classified? After a thorough research interviewing real monsters, not only was Com(m)unícate able to establish the genders possessed by these species but their way of life as well. Medusa, CNG’s AP Biology teacher, seemed like the perfect candidate to interrogate, since she is not only a monster, but a knowledgeable one in the subject. The first question that was posed in order to start analyzing monsters was regarding their genders. Since monsters inhabit Earth, it is assumed that they have either two sexes or have no clear division between them. They can’t have three sexes: species with three sexes do not exist. The monster species would either contain males and females or be entirely composed of hermaphrodites. Hermaphrodites, in the animal kingdom, are usually small animals, most invertebrate. Those that aren’t invertebrates are certain species of fish. Therefore only a snail, slug, or underwater creature might be hermaphroditic. Although according to some sightings, monsters do live underwater, they have ever been both tiny and aquatic. There are both male and female monsters. Many monster breeds must exist. Movie directors and picture book authors know this, and it is the reason for their varied depiction of these creatures. However, many of them are probably unable to interbreed. A miniscule Chihuahua cannot mate with a Brobdingnagian Tibetan Mastiff.

Records show that monstress sightings are much scarcer than those of their male counterpart. This means that there are less monstresses than monsters. “It’s a nasty thing you want far away from you,” said Medusa, more commonly known as Ms. Karen Blesgraeft, biology teacher. When asked about the origins of her infamous title, she claimed that Michael Byrne had been the one to identify her as a mythical creature from Ancient Greece. Of course, was she really Medusa, Mr. Byrne would’ve already been “tostado”, or, rather, petrified. However, Medusa has her own monster: spiders. Those immense, hairy spiders make her jump. The hairier they are the more they frighten her serpentine mop that she claims is her “hair.” Thus, monsters themselves have their own monsters. If monsters have their own fears, then they must be set up into societies, protecting themselves from their horrors. Monsters are organized into hives, just like bees. Monstresses are only useful in the production of offspring which is why they stay inside. However, monsters are those that go outside in search of food and exercise. And entertainment, of course. Monsters, opposite to popular opinion do not eat children or any human beings at all. They eat the food we eat, but, since they aren’t allowed in supermarkets and those who have “green thumbs” only do literally, they are forced to resort to other means, such as stealing.

Monstresses, on the other hand, do not engage in this kind of immaturity. The small percentage of monstress sightings is due to accidental encounters. A monster community might be migrating to a new site and by pure coincidence, a monstress ends up encountering a human (coincidentally it tends to be a child) and, naturally, scare him. “All the creatures that have been considered monsters in history have been created through genetic mutations. The wolf man and the elephant man are considered monsters by some. However, real-life monsters are simply what we consider abnormal,” said Medusa. According to what monstrologists have been able to compile, originally, each monster colony was made up of specifically one race. However, today, due to constant gene flow and reproduction between different breeds, the colonies tend to be more varied (in regards to diversity of the population). These mixed offspring, though, tend to be sterile due to Mother Nature’s preventive reproduction mechanisms (that as you probably know are present in the mule). Whenever one of these infertile offsprings is born a female, she is raised as a

male and is therefore a male psychologically. This occurs because they, from the moment they are born, are useless to the community as females.Some monstress-human encounters have also occurred because of this. Nevertheless, in recent years there seems to be a decline in diversity and interbreeding since the colony was harmed by the great amount of sterile monsters. With each passing year, monsters and monstresses have tried to keep to their own breeds so that their respective offspring will be fertile and contribute to the growth of the colony. Anyone’s monster has some type of logic behind it. It is simply a question of thinking rationally and humorously analyzing the fear. Most of our monsters are irrational and, with some rationality drizzled over the situation, they end up like Dorothy’s Wicked Witch of the West under the rain: vaporized.

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Detras ´ de un Monstruo Por Sergio L.

tecnología: Muchas personas parecen prisioneras del celular, se engordan y sus mentes quedan pasivamente controladas al frente de un televisor y los videojuegos seducen a los jugadores como si fueran sus esclavos. El problema mayor es la Internet, pues puede exponer la privacidad de todos y destruir relaciones. Por medio de este instrumento, la gente puede estafar, robar y abusar de otras personas. Así, con la tecnología podemos vernos enfrentados a una temible y monstruosa amenaza. Por eso, estas herramientas tecnológicas pueden representar para muchos las bestias de nuestra actualidad.

siempre hay...

Monstruo (del latín monstrum): Ser fantástico que causa espanto. A pesar de que estas criaturas no existen, en muchas ocasiones son fuertes reflejos de la sociedad. Han atormentado a niños y adultos, a reyes y viajeros, a personajes reales y personajes ficticios. Sin embargo, estos seres aparecieron por alguna razón y sus creadores hemos sido nosotros los humanos. A través de la historia, las culturas del mundo los han imaginado en diferentes formas y tamaños, todo debido a lo que ocurre a su alrededor. Por esta razón han ido variando y evolucionando y, por lo tanto, surge la cuestión de cuáles son nuestros monstruos del siglo XXI. Desde el comienzo de la humanidad hasta el presente se ha tenido la percepción de que existen misteriosos seres que hacen el mal y que tienen una apariencia sobrenatural y fea. Esto se ve desde las culturas prehistóricas que basaban sus creencias en la naturaleza, hasta aquellos que hoy en día creen que los extraterrestres intentarán invadir la tierra. ¿Qué tiene todo esto en común? Es puro fruto de la imaginación humana y su desespero por explicar o ponerle un rostro a sus miedos. Por ejemplo, en la mitología grecolatina, existían monumentales monstruos a los cuales las personas responsabilizan de los fenómenos naturales que no podían explicar. En los mitos, tales criaturas se muestran como antihéroes representando la opresión y la fuerza destructiva de la naturaleza. Por otra parte, en la mitología escandinava los dioses tenían poderes que controlaban el destino de la humanidad: Odín era el líder de los dioses de Asgard y era el dios de la sabiduría, la guerra y la muerte.

Su hijo, Thor, era el dios del trueno y podía controlar el clima, las cosechas, la justicia, y los viajes. Con la aparición del cristianismo, surgieron demonios que tentaban a los creyentes para alejarlos de Dios. Incluso, personajes históricos han inspirado monstruos, tales como Vlad el Empalador, príncipe de Valaquia en el siglo XV, quien inspiraría la leyenda del Conde Drácula, cuatrocientos años después. En otras partes del mundo también existieron monstruos. En el continente americano, se creía en seres que habían sido castigados y cuyos espíritus habitaban lugares remotos, para así advertir a los demás de no cometer sus crímenes. Por ejemplo, en algunas versiones, la Patasola había sido una mujer que fue infiel a su esposo y como castigo le cortaron su pierna. Su espíritu se quedó rondando el bosque y así reforzaban la idea de que las mujeres deberían ser fieles a sus esposos. En la tradición árabe, los genios eran seres que podían ayudar a los humanos, pero también causarles sus mayores desventuras. Todos éstos surgieron de las experiencias de los humanos, así que los humanos son los creadores de los monstruos. En Frankenstein, la novela decimonónica de Mary Shelley, el doctor Victor Frankenstein intenta encontrar el secreto de la vida reviviendo dos cadáveres, pero el resultado lo aterroriza tanto que abandona su creación. Ésta, a pesar de no tener malas intenciones, es maltratada y excluida por la sociedad, lo cual hace que decida cobrar venganza y se convierta en un monstruo, a pesar de que está dispuesto a aislarse si solamente le dan una compañera con quien compartir su vida. En otras palabras, es culpa de Frankenstein que su creación haya causado todo el daño, o sea que él es quien

Francisco de Goya, Plate 43, “Los Caprichos”: The sleep of reason produces monsters, 1799

creó el monstruo. Teniendo todo esto en cuenta, quiero preguntar quiénes son los monstruos de esta era y por qué detrás de éstos siempre estamos nosotros, los humanos. Teniendo todo esto en cuenta, debemos preguntarnos cuáles son los monstruos que encontramos en este siglo veintiuno. Inmediatamente se viene a la cabeza la tecnología. Escritores de ciencia ficción, distopía y otros géneros literarios han advertido a la humanidad el riesgo que representan las máquinas y cómo éstas terminarán controlando la humanidad. A pesar de que estos mundos se ven distantes, ellos están en lo cierto. Hoy en día nos vemos enfrentados a varios problemas que acarrea la

Sin embargo, con ellas también aplica el concepto de Frankenstein. Sí, son fuertes amenazas para la sociedad, pero ¿de quién es la culpa realmente? De los humanos. Todas estas máquinas fueron creadas con la intención de ayudar a la humanidad, tal como el Doctor Frankenstein estaba tratando descubrir una forma de evitar la muerte. No obstante, algunos han decidido usar esto para sus malas intenciones, convirtiéndolos en algo que puede destruir la vida de alguien o incluso acabar con ella. El Internet, por ejemplo, podría ser una fuente de aprendizaje para los niños más necesitados, pero en vez de usarlo para esto, intentan destruir sus vidas y a abusar de ellos. Estos monstruos, como todos en la historia, son fruto de lo que se cree que amenaza a la sociedad. Sin embargo, estos monstruos han sido creados por nosotros y es nuestro deber volver a darles su intención original. No se trata de acabar con la sociedad sino de ayudarla.

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CNG’s

Com(m)unícate: When did your relationship start? I remember that you and Humberto were in the same group for Ciudad Perdida last year and Humberto would carry your bags.

Mysterious

Ms. Olsen: He carried a lot of people’s bags; I don’t know why you guys mark that as the start of our relationship. But we did first meet on CWW, which is a weird time to meet. Com(m)unícate: Oh, so you started dating during CWW?

love monsters By Sarah K. & Juliana L. On a typical Wednesday afternoon, Com(m)unícate decided to interview Ms. Olsen, High School’s English teacher, who is currently the significant other of Humberto, Sociales teacher. They are also known as CNG’s hot celebrity couple, because everyone seems to know about their relationship. We were expecting to see a nervous Ms.Olsen, afraid of the questions we might ask, but it was the opposite. With her lemon-colored hair and comfortable smile, she fearlessly awaited our probing questions.

Com(m)unícate: I think the reason students are so interested in your romantic lives is that both of you are so friendly instead of strict and harsh. But, we have to say: it was a quite of a shock that you guys were dating each other. Ms. Olsen: Yes, everyone was very surprised. I still don’t know how you guys found out. You guys have like a secret spy network. I would say Ramón de la Torre was the biggest spreader of secrets. He started spreading rumors that we were dating even before we started.

Com(m)unícate: What advice would you give to other CNG couples, both students and teachers? Ms. Olsen: Don’t spend all of your time together. Go out, spend time with other people, be with your friends: have your own life so you can have your shared one too. Com(m)unícate: How is it like to have a relationship in Colombia?

Ms. Olsen: Obviously not, we didn’t start dating during CWW with you guys all around. We simply didn’t really know each other before.

Ms. Olsen: It’s different in a lot of ways. In America, we would’ve waited much longer before coming out as a couple. Here, you do so instantly, everybody ends up knowing you’re a couple, and you see each other’s family much faster.

Com(m)unícate: Then, when did you start dating, in March?

Com(m)unícate: What are each others’ pet peeves?

Ms. Olsen: Yes, around that time. We’re actually a very boring couple; I don’t know why you guys picked us.

Ms. Olsen: Let’s see…. When it comes to talking on the phone. Humberto loves talking on the phone, but I hate it, so he’s a bit annoying when I don’t want to talk on the phone. We have the same pet peeve there.

Com(m)unícate: How is it like to have a relationship with a colleague and how have you handled it? Ms. Olsen: It’s harder to have a relationship with a colleague because all your students know that you’re dating, so there’s a little bit more pressure if things go wrong. You’re going to be breaking everybody’s heart, not just your own. Most students are very respectful, but also we don’t spend much time together on campus intentionally, so that you guys don’t always see us as a couple. If we do see each other at school, we say hello and keep walking because I think it’s important to have a separation from the person that you’re with from others, in order to spend time with different people and have privacy. We wouldn’t have much to talk about later and it would get very boring if we were together all day, afternoon, and evening.

Com(m)unícate: What kind of dates do you go on? Do you go to the movies, watch sports? Ms. Olsen: No, soccer is very serious for him, so we don’t watch it together. I don’t take soccer seriously and he’s very focused. We go on normal dates. We go out to eat dinner or watch the movies with Cinda and Tim. Sometimes we go on ciclovia, but then again, we always run into our students. You guys always take pictures of us. It’s kind of like being a celebrity. And we like to cook together. Com(m)unícate: Is he a good cook? Ms. Olsen: Yes, he is a very good cook, although he is a very messy one. When he’s done, he has used every pot in the house.

xxV

...Love Com(m)unícate: Do you guys talk in Spanish or English? Ms. Olsen: We speak in Spanglish. We traveled over to Indonesia this winter and we would speak Spanish because nobody else would understand Spanish and some did understand English. We go with what’s convenient. Com(m)unícate: What do you like most about Humberto? Ms. Olsen: I like that he is very sweet with everybody. He’s always worried about everybody and he likes to take care of everyone. He is also occasionally very funny and is very serious about being a teacher, and that’s a very important thing for me because I’m a teacher as well. Com(m)unícate: Do you guys go out on a lot of double dates? Ms. Olsen: Well, at our age we don’t really call them “double dates” anymore. At our age, pretty much everybody is a couple, so it’s just spending time with your friends. For example, we usually spend the time with Cinda, Tim, Mr. Becker, and his wife.

Com(m)unícate: What boy advice would you give to high school girls? Ms. Olsen: Don’t date boys. Run or give them 10 more years. They will get better. Just kidding. My advice to high school girls would be for them not to spend so much time worrying about what high school boys might think. Com(m)unícate: That’s good advice. Thank you for your time, Ms. Olsen. At that moment, the bell rang to signal the next period, and Ms. Olsen started organizing her papers, awaiting her next class. She never told us if she had any plans with him that day. Maybe they cooked together or went on one of their normal dates. Two weeks later, Com(m)unícate asked Humberto the same questions previously asked to Ms. Olsen. Com(m)unícate: ¿Qué es lo que más te gusta de Ms.Olsen?

Com(m)unícate: How often do you go on a date with Humberto?

Humberto: Físicamente, los ojos. De su personalidad, me encanta que es tierna e inteligente.

Ms. Olsen: We date differently because we’re older, so it’s not like “Oh my gosh we have a date tonight!” and stuff. It’s more just spending time together, so I think that makes it a little bit different. But we try to do something special once a week: we’ll go have dinner or actually do something besides work and grading homework.

Com(m)unícate: ¿Qué es algo que a ella le moleste?

Humberto: La gente que es injusta o deshonesta le molesta mucho. También le molesta mucho que no tenga tiempo para poder hacer todo lo que ella quiere.

Com(m)unícate: ¿Qué actividades son las que más les gusta hacer? Humberto: Nos gusta ver televisión, especialmente las series americanas. Y lo que más nos gusta es viajar. Com(m)unícate: ¿Qué consejos le darías a otras parejas del colegio? Humberto: Es importante respetar los tiempos de cada uno y en sus cosas. Normalmente, sólo nos hablamos cuando llegamos al apartamento. Com(m)unícate: ¿Cómo se comunican? ¿Español más que inglés o al revés?

Humberto: Primero, tienen que pensar muy bien en los gustos de la otra persona y no pensar que son un defecto sino otra manera de pensar. Por ejemplo, lo que la gente piensa de ir a una fiesta puede diferir entre culturas. Las fiestas no es que sean aburridas, sino que se hacen cosas diferentes. Los gustos en la comida pueden variar. También es muy necesario siempre estar hablando con la otra persona. Hay palabras, como por ejemplo, “consentido”, que en inglés tienen un sentido a veces muy malo y en español, en cambio, significa como tierno. Estos malentendidos se arreglan cuando tú hablas con la otra persona todo el tiempo, ya que eso ayuda a que la relación fluya.

Humberto: Tenemos un calendario en el que tres días son en español y cuatro en inglés. Entonces lunes, miércoles, viernes y sábado hablamos en inglés; martes, jueves y domingo en español. Com(m)unícate: ¿Qué consejos le darías a otras parejas?

xxVii

The Cycle of Natalia A. We asked high school students a little about their social monsters.

Monstrosity

The colored bars represent different grades of the people ANSWERING my questions.

ixxx

7.7 kilometros de

terror Maria G. & Camila S. Cuando Camila y María se dieron cuenta de que iban tarde a la fiesta de cumpleaños de la mamá de María, decidieron que no tenían más opción sino recurrir a medidas desesperadas. En una crónica narrada desde dos perspectivas muy diferentes, las dos niñas-sin-coco describen esa noche de terror que lentamente se fue transformando en la aventura más inimaginable, más inesperada y más monstruosa que le pudiera suceder a un par de gomelas.

Hora: 7 PM Kilómetros: 0.0 POV: María “Tenemos que irnos ya,” le dije a Camila con una cara pálida. “Mi mamá nos está esperando en la casa a las 8 de la noche.” Yo no entendía cómo se me había olvidado la fiesta de cumpleaños de mi propia madre. ¡Qué irresponsabilidad! Camila, tratando de consolarme me dijo, “Tratemos de pensar en ideas sobre qué podemos hacer. Tenemos poco tiempo y debemos decidirnos ahora mismo”. Por suerte, estábamos en la casa de un amigo mutuo y le preguntamos a todos los invitados, casi que rogándoles, qué ideas proponían para este

escape inmediato. Tristemente sólo aparecieron un total de 7 ideas, todas imposibles de cumplir. Después de 10 minutos de un silencio perturbador, desesperante e intenso, nos dimos cuenta de que solamente existía una opción: tomar el famoso SITP (ese-i-te-pe o si-t-puh). Por suerte una amiga tenía una tarjeta de SITP que generosamente nos prestó. Así comenzó la aventura. Hora: 7:20 PM Kilómetros: 0.3 POV: Camila Ninguna de las dos tenía idea de lo que estábamos haciendo, mucho menos de lo que nos esperaba esa fría noche de diciembre. Juntas cruzamos la Séptima y apenas pusimos un pie en el andén contrario, 5 pares de ojos voltearon inmediatamente a mirarnos. Sonreímos. ¿Qué hacían dos niñas con cara de perdidas esperando un bus en la calle? Ni nosotras lo sabíamos. Tratamos de disimular nuestra confusión y nos paramos detrás de todo el mundo a esperar. Ahora el problema era averiguar qué bus debíamos tomar. Ignorando los murmullos y varias miradas de reojo, nos dimos cuenta de una señal que claramente decía que 3 de los 4 buses disponibles viajaban por toda la Séptima. Perfecto. Ahora sólo era cuestión de esperar.

Hora: 7:30 PM Kilómetros: 0.3 POV: María ¿Qué otra cosa podía pensar yo sino llegar lo más pronto posible? A mí no me importaba el método para llegar, pero era claro que a Camila sí. Ella se veía preocupada; tan preocupada, que se reía. Yo me reía por dos razones: la idea de una aventura y puros nervios. Tocaba calmarse y tratar de mezclarse con el resto de colombianos en la parada de SITP. Era una misión imposible. No podíamos dar más “papaya” al tener nuestras chaquetas Seniors CNG y más aún con nuestras caras de perdidas. A mí no me importaba, ¡me estaba divirtiendo! Era verdaderamente una aventura a mi manera.

a Camila le pregunté qué íbamos a hacer. Ella estaba igual de confundida que yo. No había opción. El tiempo corría y el bus seguía bajando, alejándonos de nuestro destino. Tocó actuar y decidimos bajarnos del bus. Inmediatamente fuimos a la otra esquina del bus, presionamos el botón rojo con desespero y nos bajamos. Todo fue muy rápido y el mundo parecía estar adelantado y caótico.

Hora: 7:45 PM Kilómetros: 0.3 POV: Camila

Hora: 8 PM Kilómetros: 3.4 POV: Camila

Sentí rabia. Claramente esto nos tenía que pasar. Cualquier persona normal hubiera mantenido la calma en esa situación...; yo no. Dado que mi senDespués de aguantar frío por casi media hora tido de orientación es prácticamente inexistente, más, por fin paró un bus azul. Nos montamos-- lo único en lo que yo podía pensar era en cómo no sin antes trancar la fila porque no nos servía esa noche iba a ser la noche de mi muerte. la tarjeta-- e inmediatamente nos acercamos al mapa para asegurarnos de no perder la paHora: 8 PM rada en donde nos teníamos que bajar. Todo Kilómetros: 3.4 parecía ir bien. El bus volaba por el carril prePOV: María ferencial mientras que María y yo sonreíamos y nos felicitábamos por nuestro logro. Me sentía Camila me pegó y yo reaccioné como si me más tranquila. Ya íbamos a llegar a la 100. En despertara de un sueño profundo. “¿MARÍA, poco tiempo estaríamos de vuelta en la casa. QUÉ ACABÓ DE PASAR?” Lentamente observé Casi que podía saborear el pedazo de torta a Camila perdiendo su cabeza, hablando…hade cumpleaños que me esperaba. Pero, por su- blando…y hablando. “¿DÓNDE ESTAMOS?!” puesto, nada iba a ser tan fácil como pensaba. Por suerte yo reconocí dónde estábamos, pero Al llegar a la 100, el bus decidió dar una vuelta yo no soy genio en absoluto cuando me hablan inesperada y bajar a la derecha. Nuestras son- de direcciones. Traté de calmarla, diciéndorisas lentamente desaparecieron y fueron reem- le “Tranquila, yo sé dónde estamos...Por acá plazadas por una serie de groserías. queda ese Starbucks nuevo (creo)...¡Vamos, vamos! Nada va a pasar.” Hora: 7:57 PM Kilómetros: 3.4 Empezamos a caminar en una calle que me cuenPOV: María tan que es “arriba de la 11”. La 11 me sonaba. Decidí confiarme y caminar. Claramente, todo Voltee violentamente a mirar a Camila y ella me esto ocurría mientras Camila ya planeaba su miró con los ojos bien abiertos. CA-RA-JO. Se muerte en unas pocas horas. Querido lector, nundañó mi paraíso momentáneo. Casi gritándole ca murió, entonces no se preocupe como Camila.

xxxi

Hora: 8:10 PM Kilómetros: 3.6 POV: María

Camila se veía increíblemente decepcionada y cansada. Solamente podía decirle una cosa. Ya tenía un plan. “Camila...¿Confías en mí?”

Seguimos caminando, hasta que reconocí el apartamento de una vieja amiga. “¡¡Ya verdaderamente sé dónde estamos!! ¡Solamente toca subir de vuelta por la séptima! ¡Yo ya hice este viaje antes a pie, no te preocupes!” le dije a Camila.

Ella me miró con una cara seria y me dijo inmediatamente sin pensar, “No”.

Ella se veía tan exhausta para responder que simplemente me siguió con la esperanza de algo diferente. Yo la estaba pasando increíble. Amaba el frío del viento en mis cachetes y la noche bogotana donde pocas veces salía a esas horas. Qué delicia. Hora: 8:10 PM Kilómetros: 3.6 POV: Camila Sed, hambre, cansancio… Ya no quería seguir. No reconocía nada en la oscuridad de la noche y el Starbucks que María recordaba no estaba por ningún lado. Sin embargo, seguimos caminando hasta que llegamos a la 94. Ahí María me convenció de que faltaba muy poco. Me lo decía con cara de confianza. Yo sabía que ella estaba tan perdida como yo pero aun me sentía tan aturdida por los eventos de la noche que decidí que no valía la pena reclamar nada. Así que con más energía seguí caminando. Hora: 8:15 PM Kilómetros: 4 POV: María Camila se adelantó de mí al encontrarnos con otra parada del SITP en la Séptima. Afanada, le preguntó a una señora esperando un bus cuándo venía el siguiente bus que nos llevaría. Yo observaba de lejos la cara de la señora. Daba lástima cómo miraba a Camila con compasión al decirle, “Eso llega cuando quiere llegar...a veces llega en 30 minutos o en 2 horas...todo depende del tráfico y del bus...”

“Perfecto,” le respondí con una sonrisa. Le dije a Camila que nos tocaba ir por la Séptima hasta mi casa y no teníamos opción. No tenía la opción de decidir si confiaba en mí o no. Le tocaba. Hora: 8:30 PM Kilómetros: 4.5 POV: Camila Después de escuchar la respuesta decepcionante de la señora sentí que la poca energía que tenía se me iba. Claro, hasta que María me obligó a confiar en ella y a seguir nuestro camino. Todavía faltaba mucho para llegar. Por alguna razón, en vez de subir por la circunvalar donde hay cámaras, decidimos seguir por la Séptima. Era la época cuando todavía había contraflujo, así que todo el carril derecho estaba completamente vacío. Estábamos solas. Pasamos por una parada de bus en donde la única persona que había era un pordiosero. Seguramente el hombre era buena gente, pero a esas horas de la noche, dos niñas que claramente no podían hacer nada bien, cargando maletas y con chaquetas de CNG...pues es difícil no imaginar lo peor. Hora: 8:35 PM Kilómetros: 4.7 POV: María Camila empezó a entrar en pánico de nuevo. Nunca me reí más como en ese momento. “María, ya sé la verdad. Ya lo sé: el día en que yo muera, va a ser contigo o por tu culpa. Lo tengo por seguro. Así voy a morir.” ¡Qué noche tan interesante! Claramente, con lo buena amiga que soy, tuve que calmarla. No pude pensar en algo razonable que fuera honesto a la vez,

entonces le dije que cantáramos. No hay nadie alrededor: saltemos, bailemos y cantemos.

“Señoritas, ¿es posible que me ayuden?” Era un turista argentino.

“El mínimo beneficio que puede venir de eso es que piensen que somos locas”, le dije. “¡Así que cantemos!”

Los hombres de atrás siguieron adelante y, por puro instinto, le grité al argentino, “¡Gracias, gracias! ¡Mil gracias, nos salvaste la vida!”

Por suerte, en esa ocasión sólo era la imaginación dejándose llevar. Todo estaba bien mientras que cantábamos el dúo de Aladino, claro, hasta que vimos que dos hombres aparecieron como por arte de magia detrás de nosotras.

Él probablemente se asustó y se confundió. De igual manera, nos preguntó unas direcciones. No entendí nada de lo que preguntó, pero Camila felizmente (ya con tonos naturales en su piel) lo ayudó. Nos reímos, nos despedimos y agradecimos de nuevo. Ese era un buen argentino.

Hora: 8:40 PM Kilómetros: 5 POV: Camila Sentí que la sangre se me helaba. Miles de escenarios pavorosos se me cruzaron por la mente. Muchos podrán pensar que soy una exagerada pero no me importa. Estaba oscuro, estábamos solas, había un bosque misterioso a nuestra derecha y dos hombres extraños se habían aparecido de la nada. Tenía derecho a sentirme asustada. “¿Cruzamos? ¡¿CRUZAMOS?!” le pregunté a María. Ella me miró con una cara extraña, confundida y asustada. “Hasta aquí llegamos…” pensé. Bueno por lo menos no estaba sola. Hora: 8:50 PM Kilómetros: 5.5 POV: María Listo, ya tocaba preocuparse. Teníamos dos, no uno, DOS hombres atrás de quienes claramente pensamos que nos iban a atacar. Estábamos definitivamente al borde de la muerte. Yo estaba tensionada pero feliz. ¡Quién no quiere morir al lado del mejor amigo! De igual manera, Camila y yo empezamos a caminar más rápido. El mundo volvió a acelerarse y a darme vueltas. No sabía qué hacer. Pero bueno, pensé, viví bien la vida. De repente un hombre más se nos apareció de la nada por el frente. Ahí estaba escrita mi muerte. Tenía piel de gallina hasta mi cuello. Estábamos rodeadas.

Hora: 9 PM Kilómetros: 5.7 POV: Camila Después del susto del siglo, vimos que adelante de nosotras había un “hitchhiker” que parecía asiático. El tipo tenía cara de que sabía lo que hacía así que decidimos perseguirlo. Tengo que aclarar que cuando digo “perseguir” significa “caminar exactamente dos pasos atrás de él”. Estábamos tan cerca que yo creo que él podía sentir nuestra respiración. En cualquier otro momento hacer algo de ese estilo nos pondría en la categoría de acosadoras, pero en la situación en la que estábamos y después de lo que nos había acabado de pasar, era perfectamente normal. Seguimos caminando de esa forma por un buen rato. Él nunca dijo nada. Nosotras tampoco. Simplemente lo seguíamos. De repente, nuestro nuevo amigo decidió bajar de la séptima y montarse en un bus chatarra que estaba esperando en una esquina. Tras una despedida silenciosa, seguimos nuestro camino. Hora: 9:20 PM Kilómetros: 6.5 POV: Camila Era hora de cruzar la séptima de nuevo para poder subir a la casa de María. El problema era que como el contraflujo se estaba acabando, los carros aún estaban en estado de

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confusión y había policías por todos lados. Cada vez que tratábamos de cruzar, un carro se nos venía encima. Por suerte, una señora que estaba en el mismo problema que nosotras se nos acercó.

Nuestras caras estaban frías por el viento y pegajosas por el sudor. La mayoría de invitados exclamaba lo frías que estábamos, que si queríamos un saco, etc.

“Vengan niñas y cruzamos juntas. Estos conductores no saben lo que hacen y los policías menos.” En ese punto ya no teníamos nada que perder, así que en compañía de la señora, cruzamos la séptima.

Pregunté por mi mamá y me dijeron que estaba en el baño del segundo piso. Subimos las escaleras, le avisamos a mi mamá que habíamos llegado, que el tráfico estaba muy congestionado y nos encerramos en mi cuarto para cambiarnos de ropa.

Hora: 9:50 PM Kilómetros: 7 POV: María

Hora: 10 PM Kilómetros: 7.7 POV: Camila

Me pareció todo muy misterioso en esta aventura. Siempre nos encontrábamos con alguien que nos guiaba (voluntaria o involuntariamente). Pero eso no me molestaba. Ya estábamos muy cerca de mi casa y yo no podía estar más agradecida de conocer no sólo a toda esta gente en mitad de la oscuridad de Bogotá, sino, Bueno, también a Camila por hacerme reír por un buen rato.

Casi que podía llorar de la felicidad. Estábamos en la casa, rodeadas de gente conocida, sin el viento helado de Bogotá cortando nuestros rostros y sin el constante miedo de que algo malo iba a suceder. Por suerte nos escapamos de tener que dar explicaciones. Ahora lo único que faltaba por hacer era comer ese delicioso pedazo de torta que tanto anhelábamos.

Seguimos caminando por un territorio que ya podía llamar, con certeza, conocido. Le pedí a Camila que me ayudara a pensar qué excusa tendríamos por llegar más de una hora tarde. El “coco” de Camila estaba igual de podrido que el mío a esas horas. Sin embargo, fue verdaderamente simple encontrar la típica excusa colombiana: el tráfico. ¡Sí, claro que había tráfico! Pero nunca tocaba mencionar si éramos o no parte de ese tráfico. Hora: 10 PM Kilómetros: 7.7 POV: María Llegamos a mi casa. La puerta ya estaba abierta ya que constantemente entraban y salían invitados a caminar alrededor de la casa. Aprovechamos y entramos lo más calladas posible. La sala estaba llena y fuimos forzadas a saludar a cada uno de los invitados de beso.

IT never leaves, it just changes

Camila y María cumplieron la misión. Esta aventura llena de peligros que se llevó a cabo por una distancia total de 7.7 kilómetros se ha mantenido en secreto desde hace más de cuatro meses. La vida siguió para ambas, pero estas dos amigas-sin-coco sin duda recuerdan esa aventura monstruosa cada vez que pasan en carro por la Séptima. Al y fin y al cabo, todo lo que les sucedió esa noche fue el precio de una buena historia.

By Samuel T.

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art by cayetano sanz de santamaria