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IDIOMAS, IDIOMS, LINGUE

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September 19, 2013

EL CONDOR FLIES OVER


"Alguma coisa acontece no meu coração
que só quando cruza a Ipiranga e a avenida São João"
                                                Sampa, by Caetano Veloso 


 For a long time in my life, I hadn't this fear of them. I even think that there has been a time in which they were scarcely known by me, so distant they were. Most probably they have been even admired by me in those times. I search the causes for such a feeling of mine but never find them. Some people advised me to recall the first images, supposedly plentiful of a vague embryonic angst. They said such was always the beginning of all irrational fears. But seemingly not in my case. At the origin of my woes, I am not able to find any notable fact except a single ridicule event: an innocent talk regarding the correct pronunciation of his name. Paco, my Peruvian friend, living in São Paulo so distant from his country for long, was talking to me about the splendid flight of the condors. Speaking Portuguese almost without any accent, he nevertheless pronounced the word CÔndores, so putting the tonic accent on the first syllable, as is the correct way in Spanish, but an evident mistake in Portuguese. I right away corrected him: "The accent must be on the second syllable, Paco: conDÔres and not CÔndores.'' ''You are wrong. Their name is CÔndores.'' ''If you are speaking Spanish or even English, that's right. I’m aware of that. But in Portuguese, the right pronounciation is another. We say condôr, never another way." Politely, or presuming to act so, I did speak only these few phrases and nothing else. Nevertheless, they were enough for Paco uttering his trite but mighty words. That same utterance that at once and forever disrupted everything, and which I have been repeating incessantly in my thoughts since then. He looked into my eyes, resembling an Inca prince with his cabezita negra and displaying a subtle and ironic disdain, he launched into my ears an apparently just sarcastic utterance. This latter however revealed itself fatally for me:

Can you guess what comes next? Take a look at these singular interconnected tales making up a single novel!  

A kafkian tale? This intense post-modernist short story is part of the below book:  



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