Dic 07 2011 The eyes of the girl in Eyipantla Viridiana

• Eyipantla jump

  https://www.viajesalpasado.com/wp-content/uploads/eyipantla-salto.jpg

  The Eyipantla jump is one of those waterfalls that return the traveler a breath of freedom that has been left as shreds by the way of life. But not water, in, what comes to mind when I think of this cascade, but huge eyes, lively but sad, perhaps resigned. The eyes of the little Viridiana.

• Eyipantla salto2

  https://www.viajesalpasado.com/wp-content/uploads/eyipantla-salto2.jpg

  The Eyipantla jump is one of those waterfalls that return the traveler a breath of freedom that has been left as shreds by the way of life. But not water, in, what comes to mind when I think of this cascade, but huge eyes, lively but sad, perhaps resigned. The eyes of the little Viridiana.

• Eyipantla salto1

  https://www.viajesalpasado.com/wp-content/uploads/eyipantla-salto1.jpg

  The Eyipantla jump is one of those waterfalls that return the traveler a breath of freedom that has been left as shreds by the way of life. But not water, in, what comes to mind when I think of this cascade, but huge eyes, lively but sad, perhaps resigned. The eyes of the little Viridiana.

The Eyipantla jump is one of those waterfalls that return the traveler a breath of freedom that has been left as shreds by the way of life. Is located, go ahead, in the Mexican state of Veracruz. I know, lately, is hardly shocking news for settling of scores, but imagine how unfair it would be for people to think only in Madrid as a place where terrorists pop full of passengers or trains in New York as a defenseless city crisscrossed by suicide pilots. It sounds ridiculous, but sometimes we fall into the error of distorting our vision like that of other countries for which the current spreads, occasionally, terrible news.

But that association is not evil of what I wanted to address in this new land incursion by Aztec. Far. As I said, the waterfall is really special, one of those prospects that require removing the camera. Is not water, in, what comes to mind when I remember my time Eyipantla, but huge eyes, lively but sad, perhaps resigned. Viridiana's eyes, raven-haired girl with the way I passed the waterfall. She Viridiana, pedigüeña like all small poor families than their parents commissioned in the open to try and balance the wage, revived old questions for me I still do not have answers.

The crowd of ragged children moving along the narrow path, muddy and slippery in the hillside leading to the jump, stuck in the shadow of the tourist, converted into their footprints footprint. Hawking their merchandise, sell everything, and ask for a measly weight in exchange for their smiles. I just never get used to the stares of those children who spend long, Just a few coins to ease the conscience, not knowing if your begging do well perpetuate not only keep track with the anguish of a bastard is sensed.

I just never get used to the stares of those children who spend long, Just a few coins to ease the conscience

The waterfall, the 60 meters, falls so strongly among the lush vegetation that makes you feel insignificant and completely at the mercy of nature, which reigns undisputed in this area of ​​the forest abruptly Veracruz. I stop to take a picture from the stairs that go down in a heartbeat to where the water breaks with a crash and the channel recovers lost quiet a few meters above.

-Save to roll down there, which is nicer- I suggest a local.

A little later, I hear his voice asleep by adversity. His eyes deep as wells offer me some candy. Viridiana gala takes its name from Buñuel film. Walk beside me without guessing my sorrow for the days that lie ahead. What I can do? His eyes still staring when the girl and while it has fallen behind, detained in that path to wait for the next tourist, as if afraid to spoil the delight of the falls. Do not look for his picture in the gallery. Although at times I have succumbed to the momentum, of course I do, try to flee the entomological zeal that some tourists collect photographs of ragged children.

This is the abode of Tlaloc, the Aztec rain god who is still crying about Mexico, paraphrase the great book of Passuth

Once down, I sink into the quagmire of mud to fill my immaculate sports. In this paradise of water, leave the paths is at a premium. In exchange, if the traveler turns his back to the stalls and as close as possible to the waterfall, Let the water cool your face, the power of imposing a priceless leap seconds gives maximum freedom, encouraging your mind to escape upstream. This is the abode of Tlaloc, the Aztec rain god who is still crying about Mexico, paraphrase the great book of Passuth.

Before returning to the car, I have to face again, vacuum responses, the small Viridiana, that is giving away his mourners eyes to tourists. Five weights are a free pass for my conscience. Too little for the two. Tomorrow, back again. With other tourists, with other troubled consciences. The booty, by meager be, binds him to this place as a condemnation. In this place where the traveler will never return to see Viridiana not behind a street stall pondering a life not lived, not have left to live.

History repeats itself a little higher with Marcelino and John, carried two pesos for a drink while playing marbles. The heat is unbearable. The thermometer reads more than 30 degrees and humidity exceeds 90 percent, as counted after from here on the news. While eagerly drink a bottle of mineral water, aloud hear reproaches that sometimes I have done in similar circumstances. Is the driver who chides me for giving alms to the children.
-So do not aid. Should be in school and while tourists will not come to give them coins ever. When they are older and not give them anything and will not have sufficient training to earn a living for themselves.
He's right, but speaking as if I were to carry the illiteracy rate of the state of Veracruz. Viridiana, while, still clinging to the shadow of another group of tourists, drawing smiles to not think of a future lost in the abyss of your eyes.