Old Mates

Sometimes, ok, ok, ok, everyday I check my Facebook, reading some comments, writing mine and most of the time sneaking, if I can, in others people’s profile.

I was checking on my ex classmates at the university. All of us studied History, in a public, cheap and quasi low quality centre. I remember my first year (the career takes 5 years like many others, just Law takes like 7), those were my alcoholic days. We drunk almost every single moment. Every time there was an excuse, the perfect one: there’s a teacher’s strike, there’s no class, there was a test and you failed it, somebody birthday…it’s Monday or you don’t want to study just drink. My faculty was recognized like one of the most heavy drinker in all the campus. We were proud….and me, as a not standard girl I drunk not beer but a kind of alcohol made in Peru called Pisco, 40% ….yes, that think mixed with whatever…for a moment I thought I found the cure of AIDS.

The most fascinating thing about these alcoholic meetings were the things we used to talk: politics, Marxism, football, economy…debates…it was awesome. I think I learnt even more outside the classroom in those creepy bars, were Pisco was cheap. Making friends was so easy, with one beer you could know the all past life of your buddies. As Latinos, we loved talking, as poor people we shared even our photocopies, we listened  problems, we cared….those days are gone.

Doing some archeology online I tracked some old colleagues. The most alcoholic is now Literature teacher in a private school. I should stress the fact when you got a degree in History you’re labour life is limited. You can be a teacher, or working in archives like a fake librarian, or doing research in NGOs but for doing that, you need really good contacts, something I didn’t have. Most of my peers didn’t go so far. I would say more than 70% are teachers, at school, not even University level. Being a teacher in Peru, like being a policeman means you’re the poorest of the poorest. Your income is microscopic.

I saw many of my classmates fat, older, married or divorced, with children, some of them didn’t change, they’re still kids, others are still trying to work in a NGO or publishing books for high schools. When we finished the 5 years, 90% finished the career in 6, had already family dramas, like…being pregnant without being married (a real Latino drama), abortions, working part time to pay those things. Some others have blogs and are against the government, that most of time execute policies not very democratic.

Just one was openly gay, and me? I just said to a couple of good friends my sexual orientation.

I cannot imagine my life in Peru again. I wonder…what would have been of me? Repressed and without a job…a mean, a real job. At least here I can pay my food, clothes, I got an apartment, a cat and I can save money, things impossible to do there. Of course the price is high, I have no family and friends, totally alone… I cannot come back.

Life changed since I’m here, I don’t forget who I’m and where I can from. I miss them, old faculty days are gone but I got faith thing will be better for me. Working hard sometimes is not enough…no choice, I must continue.



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