Back to My Village

Iso Yucra - Rivera

                When I stepped off the bus, everything was familiar.  The dust of the land made me remember the old times when the wind blew in my face. The fresh air with dust was something that I already knew.  It was very different from the place where I live now, but it gave me a familiar feeling of being home again.

                When I was walking with my backpack and my luggage to my Mom’s house, I heard people of the village saying, “Iso chayamusk’a” or “Iso chayamusian.” I was really anxious to talk with them. I was excited to hear the guttural and clicking sounds of my native language.

                I stopped in the middle of the only street in the entire village and looked at all the houses. Everything was the same as it was four years ago. The scratched, adobe houses were still there. Some of them were falling apart, and the paint on the walls was fading or painted over with political signs. As I continued to walk to my Mom’s house, I thought how different the streets were. The roads were made of rocks not cement like in the United States.

                When I was at the door, I hesitated for a moment. I began to doubt about things like, who was going to answer the door? And will my dog recognize me after 4 years? At that moment, I saw something at the corner of my left eye. I turn my head and saw a bunch of pigs, chickens, and dogs in the distance. They were searching for something or maybe it was just customary to gather together in the same area, where the village people throw away their trash. Then, I saw her. I saw my thin, black dog playing with the other dogs. She was rolling around on the ground and covering herself with dirt. I enjoyed watching her. She seemed very happy and healthy. She seemed like she didn’t have a care in the world.

                At that moment, she stood up and looked straight towards the house and realized that someone was looking at her. We stared at each other. It was an exciting moment for the both of us. I whistle at her like I used to do and she recognized it. She left her friends playing and ran excitedly to meet me. She was whining, jumping on me, and jumping around with happiness and that made me feel like I was back home again.

*chayamusk’a = arriving