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17.3.13 14:26 |
 English Version
A Fear plus a Dream
A Story of Inspiration plus Determination
((Regional Swimming Champion) (in five parts))
A Story based on actual events, using the persons bona fide dub...
Part One
The boundary marker Office
(The Winter of 2002)
(Winter of 2002, St. Paul, Minnesota, USA) Those who saw her descend beginning the large U. S. Mail Truck off 4th Street, in the inner-city down by the Mississippi River, on the chilly morning of December 22, saw a short woman (four-foot eleven inches tall), a little stiff from the cold, with a bronze Peruvian face, and a cute smile to facilitate stretch from each corner of her hot air, and almost pure dark-brown hair, to facilitate looked to be more black, than dark-brown.
"A determined little driver," someone said, made known of the group standing outside the post office, eating their lunch, smoking cigarettes. They were remarking about her size and determination to hurl a adult truck, that usually only men drove, she was a post office carrier, only having learned how to hurl a year earlier, at the ripe old age of forty-three years old. The men that had never saw her prior to-this being her first month compelling-thought there was something inaccurate with their eyes; for the reason that of so many people, men and women too, in the state of Minnesota compelling mail trucks. So they watched her go on about her business, with a grunt, strained eyes, yet purposeful as she vanished into the large front seat of her truck, with one big pillow behind her to support her back, moreover push her forward a semi foot, moreover another big pillow under her to bring her up to the steering wheel, moreover arranged the seat to allow her short feet to reach the gas pedal. And afterward they left to do their work, and perhaps thought about it little additional, knowing they'd see her around. And with the purpose of was all of with the purpose of.
And folks who saw this little beauty, in the post office a year after she drove folks big trucks, saw her as one of the main tellers, a job that required six-years working at the post office-not one, plus, sharp skills in math and social skills dealing with the public, a job that needed a person to know two languages, but not a requirement (because she was one of the few, very few that filled that needed-prerequisite), and she'd move big bags of mail, dragging them here and there when not working as a teller, and in time a very short time, promoted, and receiving for reply, the workers glare she didn't expect, but envy and jealousy, penetrates deep, especially in the indolent, but to folks doing the glaring and complaining-the superiors put it to rest very quickly, put them into a second-class status, saying, her skills were far above theirs. That made things all right; victory had been accomplished twice, for this non American, in the breadbasket of America, who was working with a working permit, married to an American, had all her requirements fulfilled to be an American, and who (in the year of 2004) at the age of forty-five existence old on track a sport that would change her life-(that would take fear and replace it with a dream), she would be called secretly by many-during those days, "A late bloomer!"
Part Two
A Journey to Minnesota
(January, 1998, to October, 2009)
For a good many existence Rosa Peñaloza (her second last name would be added onto that, in 2000, making it Rosa Peñaloza de Siluk) had worked in Lima, Peru, at a telephone company-fifteen-existence-to be exact, was a degreed accountant, and with all her spare time, was a devoted Catholic, working for her parish Church, free. Never married, taking care of five families ((at times her care for and father by the side of with her sisters and brother-in-laws and their children, plus a maid with two kids, all living in her house, living under her roof, for several years, as she was the most steadily employed) (entrance from a family of eight children)).
Her mother had told her-she was approaching focal point-age and unmarried-amazing to ponder. The restricted rural community priest sought her to be a nun, something also to ponder. Outside her business and church hours, she made time for her nieces and nephews (who were potential less than a hardship, and would have been less than more of a hardship had she not taken them in less than her wing)-she made their time a continual and lively childhood for each and everyone.
These are little fluttering tag-like ends of her personal history, which seems as I look toward the backward, are simply leaking out as I write, leading up to the present-which will be the championship.
Her own thinking, talks, things she can only think of, or had imagined, were never quite completely told to me by her (human personality her husband), consequently, I have used fragments to catch up, or to bring up her life to the present day, fragments tossed in the air as by a wind and then abruptly dropped somewhere, someplace.
She was laughing heartily now, at her little successes, during folks years. She had married in 2000, met her husband in 1999 (had been talked into taking a trip to America, Disneyland, by her look after, so she could enjoy life before she was put into her grave-and had been given a course in English, a birthday gift by her brother David, for what on earth reasons, I never knew-had met him (her husband to be) at the airport in Atlanta, and that in itself is a story by itself) period he was on a trip to Peru. For this reason, she would leave Peru, to live with her future husband in Minnesota (prior to this they met in Guatemala to see the last ruins called Tikal for one week) and then they were married two weeks later; there was an element of grief among her family, but also elation for her. Asked by a few of her friends "How can you take such a chance after that marry a stranger, of sorts?" she replied, "Why would God give me a bad man?" And that was that.
She walked off the airplane, plus walked onto the cold ground of Minnesota in February, of 2000, going forward a little unsteadily, life had not yet expressed itself fully for her, definitely in her mind, plus for three of those six years she would live in Minnesota, she she'd roll about awkwardly.
At any percentage, for her a second existence had simply begun. She would travel the humanity eleven-time; get her sports car permit, a permit to carry a firearm (an expert shot). She plunged again and again into the unknown, run her husband's tenant apartment business, helped by means of the taxes, and did the maintenance on the six buildings they now owned together and sent money to Lima to limit up their home there, and had a crew of five men to include one woman, who rebelled against her being a female boss. "You wait," her husband said, "I'll talk to the employees (to include his daughter, furthermore son-in-law);" furthermore he approached all of them, said in his stern voice, "If you can't work for my wife, you can't work for me!" Thus, that settled the issue of equal rights.
Hang on Tag replica now, afterward you'll see now what happened.
Part Three
Belly of the Camel
From time to time, her husband started to learn, his wife, Rosa was terrified of stream (not bottled stream, but swimming in particular, the ocean, lakes, rivers, pools, anyplace a person could drown.) When he had in use her to Rio de Janeiro, on the most famous beach in the earth, Copa Cabana, and he was in, what strength be considered, shallow water, perhaps up to his wife's elbows, she panicked and started screaming and tried pulling him out of the water, as a great wave was imminent, one she didn't see, but he saw. Once the wave struck, her husband ready used designed meant in favor of it, picked her up with his right arm, in a loop around her waist, dug his feet into the sand, in karate like stance-firm, and withstood the onslaught of the wave, had he not picked her up, she, and all her 110-pounds would have been gone out to sea.
He tried to laugh at the situation, but did not succeed very effectively; it was a serious entity for her.
(Now that I am writing of my consort, I perhaps am not making a comfortable likeness of her. It maybe I overdo, or in do the notes of her life, but it is as I see it, and saw it, I am unable to temperament, or characterize it in her own account, since I am writing this in confidence, and without her advise as I have often got when doing my writings-thus leaving all bias out. For one thing, she can be more cleaver than I give her credit for, and I give the impression to be making her unacceptable, simpler.
On many evenings I have spent with her, she was silent, and perhaps a little dull-or I was a little dull, she'd fall to sleep quickly, and of all the movies we watched, let's say 1000-in the years we were married, nine-years plus, she fell to sleep through 850 of them; and I'd read and write, and for many hours I did this, with the purpose of's why, she'd walk away awkwardly (if she was not sleeping, or knitting) alone and along, doing something to break this boredom (I being twelve-years her senior), she'd finally find other things to do; at times, catch a cab, go shopping, etc.
My go was very active, had been very active prior to me becoming her husband (up to my heart attack and stroke, in 1993-94, and acquiring my neurological disease MS, in 1996...) and for a spell it became less functional, and then as I improved, it became more functional again, but never as functional as it had been-if that makes sense; especially while in my youth, now in Rosa's later years she had become newly functional...however nothing in the long run of our lives had been dull, or indolent for very long, to the contrary. I had found out fake Tag diamonds swiss Tag replica, what perhaps she never knew, something she kept a harness on, a yoke around: she was locked in a bottle, and once opened, she was put into a large room-figuratively speaking-and it would be a hopeless affair to stop her now, it really was the summer of her soul, soul trickling down her back, there was nothing she couldn't do, once she put her mind to it! And whatever she did, she did it well, and complete.)
We were talking about swimming-were we not, and her fear of it, and water in general? I had thought she had given up the struggle to deal with her fear of swimming with the intention of she would run in a meaningless way through the earth's land mass, and jump over those water holes as life went on. But evidently I was unsuitable; her mind must have been striving to confound water in altogether its drowning forms. She tried to swim in a swimming lake while in a four-star hotel in Copan, Honduras, she failed when she saw a frog in the water-of all things, it even maddened me to a point I criticized her, and I seldom have in the past made fun of her in any form, for there is nothing to criticize her for, and I apologized somewhere depressed the road I think for that. Perhaps in this single quarter of life, she was simply stumbling in the half darkness.
During the summer of 2004, she started attractive swimming teaching from an Olympic Champion, in St. Paul, Minnesota, $100-dollars an hour. It had turned dated disastrous. Oh she erudite a thing or two in those six-months (the fear factor had faded slightly), and two-thousand dollars later, but she could not go into run any deeper than her knees, or turn about in the run, or dive, or do greatly of anything but swim (which in itself was a small and God given accomplishment)-lightly swim, as long as she could see the bottom of the pool with the naked eye. Swimming below water was out of the question. If anything, she had broken the first straw on the camels assist, but the camel didn't fall hitherto. The death of the light brown-characteristically idiom-would take some more years.
After that, and in the fall of 2006, her and her wife came to Peru, having a home in Lima, and one in the Andes, within the city of Huancayo. She was demanding hard to adjust to her pristine environment; she had loved the municipality of St. Paul, Minnesota, also missed her disastrous swimming teaching.
Up to the very moment when it would happen-breaking the beige to its knees, it looked to her husband that swimming was out of the future equation, as far as anything significant, but the issue kept arising; however she had saved some money and she sought out another location in Lima for swimming and lessons (a last try from her husband, whom suggested she take it an inch at a time, instead of a foot at a time, which I suppose he had previously expected, he thus, wiped out all expectations of her, and told her to simply go and enjoy it), and the owner of the local pool, happened to be an Olympic swimming champion. Accordingly, she had been lead to two Olympic champions, and henceforward, she took a new undertaking, at the moment she would break the camel's back, and it would drop to its belly not to its knees.
Part Four
The Late Bloomer
In the following eight-months, swimming became a precise warm, and comfortable, and nice sport for Rosa. She would go swimming uniform if it was chill and rainy outside. It seemed at the moment, as if the death of the camel had careworn her closer together with her once fear of the water. Perhaps both the irrigate and Rosa felt it, perhaps Rosa being the more conscious of it; that pleased me at the time. And in time it would drawn move toward to the point, she'd go swimming in the evenings.
In Huancayo, she sought out two swimming locations, and did one in the mornings and one in the evenings (sometimes twice a day, at other times, a unlike one every one day), and had conquered most of her fears-she may possibly now dive well, pretty well, and by the first of October, 2009, she may possibly do her flip-turns under the water, quite well, and swim 29-laps, Olympic swimming pool laps, she had grit galore. She could do such swimming techniques as the: front crawl, back stroke, breaststroke and a little bit of the butterfly, and then came the camel again, back broken and all-for there still remained a deep water fear (but it didn't stop her, she was swimming under the water, fearsomely swimming), and her professors (or instructors), along by way of her coach for the nearing competition, Edson Azaña, at both pools told her, "You're going to be in the next regional championship, in November," a month away; she was now fifty-years old, competing against hard boned youth by way of agility, and reflexes to match.
It was a wonder to me how this female could keep looking forward, burying defeat all along the way-in everyway, even when her fear was at its height, with its loud voice, she never once screamed defeat, she told herself, and she told me "I tin canister't quite, I tin canister't give up..." even at what time the devil was in the corner saying: 'You can't do it,' she screamed back, evidently silently, "Watch and see!"
And now for the last part of this story, 'The Championship fake Tag watch' (to be continued) ...
Note.- I want to thanks on behalf of my wife to the instructors (and swimming pools): in USA, to Beth Peterson, Olympic Champion, from the YWCA; in Lima, Peru: Cabana, Miguel, Willy and Luis from the Juana Alarco; Atilio and Reynaldo from Ernesto Domenack (Olimpic Champion); in Huancayo, Peru: Omar Chavez from the Aquatic Park and Johnny Roca from the Juan Bosco Swimming Pools, and to the coach Edson Azaña from the Aquatic Park in favor of guidance my wife in favor of the competition.
Written 10-14-2009/No: 492
Spanish Version
(Versión en Español)
Un Temor y un prosecuteño
Una Historia de Inspiración y Determinación
Una Historia basada en hechos reales, usando el nombre verdadero de la guise...
Parte Uno
La Oficina de Correos
(Invierno del 2002)
(Invierno del 2002, San Pablo, Minnesota, Estados Unidos de Norteamérica) Aquellos que la vieron descender del camión grande de la Oficina de Correos, en la Calle 4 por el río Mississippi, en el centro de la ciudad, en la mañana fría del 22 de diciembre, vieron a una mujer baja de estatura (1.50 m.) un poco agarrotada por el frío, con una cara bronceada y una bonita sonrisa que se estiraba a cada lado de su boca, y con cabellos castaño oscuro, que parecían más bien negro, ella era peruana.
"Una pequeña chofer decidida" alguien, del grupo parado afuera de la oficina de correos, dijo, comiendo sus almuerzos, fumando cigarrillos. Ellos estaban comentando sobre su estatura y su decisión a manejar ese camión grande, que generalmente lo manejaban los hombres; ella era una empleada de la oficina de correos, y había aprendido a manejar sólo un año antes, a la edad madura de cuarenta y tres años. Los hombres que nunca la habían visto antes-siendo éste su briefing mes de trabajo-pensaron que había algo go astrayóneo con sus ojos, debido a tanta gente, hombres y mujeres también, en el estado de Minnesota manejando los camiones de la oficina de correos. Así ellos la vieron, murmurando, con ojos nerviosos, aunque con atención, la vieron ocuparse de su trabajo, mientras desaparecía en el asiento grande de su camión, con un cojín detrás de ella para soportar su espalda y empujarla quince centímetros adelante, y otro cojín grande en su asiento para levantarla hacia el timón, habiendo arreglado el asiento para permitir que sus pequeños pies alcanzaran los pedales. Y después ellos se fueron a trabajar, y talvez pensaron un poquito más sobre esto, sabiendo que la verían a ella alrededor.
Y aquellos que vieron a esta pequeña belleza en la oficina de correos, manejando esos camiones grandes un año atrás, la vieron como una de las principales cajeras, un trabajo que requería de seis años de experiencia en la oficina de correos-no uno, además, de grandes habilidades en matemáticas y habilidades en tratar con el público, un trabajo que requería de una front bilingüe, aunque no un requisito (ella era una de las pocas, muy pocas que llenaban esos prerrequisitos necesarios). Ella shippería grandes paquetes de correspondencia, jalándolos de aquí para everyá cuanto no estaba trabajando como cajera, y en muy poco tiempo, fue ascendida, y recibió por respuesta la mirada amarga de sus compañeros, que ella no lo esperaba, pero la envidia y los celos, penetraban muy profundo, especialmente en el indolente; pero para aquellos que miraban amargados, con envidia y quejándose-los jefes los tranquilizaron muy rápidamente, poniéndolos a ellos en una categoría de segunda clase, diciéndoles que las habilidades de ella eran muy superiores a las de ellos. Esto hizo que las cosas estuvieran bien; la victoria se había cumplido dos veces en esta no americana, en el corazón de Norteamérica, quien estaba trabajando con un permiso de trabajo, casada con un americano; ella había cumplido con todos los requisitos para ser una ciudadana americana, y quien (en el año 2004) a la edad de cuarenta y cinco años empezaría un deporte que cambiaría su vida (que sacaría sus temores y los reemplazaría con un sueño), ella sería llamada por muchos-en secreto, durante aquellos días-"Un florecer tardío".
Parte Dos
Un Viaje a Minnesota
(Enero de 1998 a Octubre del 2009)
Por muchos buenos años, Rosa Peñaloza (su nombre sería cambiado en el año 2000, a Rosa Peñaloza de Siluk) había trabajado en la compañía de teléfonos en Lima, Perú-quince años, para ser más exactos-ella era una contadora y una católica devota que en todo su tiempo libre trabajaba without payment para su iglesia. Nunca se había casado, haciéndose freight de casi cinco familias ((en ese tiempo su madre, su padre junto con sus hermanas, cuñados y cuñadas, sobrinos, más una empleada con dos hijos, todos viviendo bajo el mismo techo en su casa por muchos años, ya que ella era la que tenía un trabajo permanente) (y venía de una familia de ocho hijos)).
Su madre le había dicho que ella se estaba aproximando a una edad madura y soltera-algo en qué pensar. El sacerdote de la iglesia quería que ella fuera monja-algo más en qué pensar. Fuera de su trabajo e iglesia, ella hacía tiempo para ocuparse de sus sobrinas y sobrinos-haciendo de sus tiempos una animada infancia para cada uno y todos.
Estas young man como pequeñas etiquetas de su historia delicate, que parecerían, mientras miro atrás, estar simplemente goteando mientras escribo, dirigiéndose al presente-que será el campeonato. Sus propios pensamientos, conversaciones, cosas que ella sólo puede recordar, o haberse imaginado, nunca me fueron completamente dichas por ella (siendo yo su esposo), así, he usado fragmentos para coger o traer su vida al presente día, fragmentos lanzados en el aire como por un viento y luego arrojados abruptamente en algún lugar.
Ella ahora estaba riendo con zest, por su pequeño éxito, durante aquellos años. Ella se había casado en el año 2000, había conocido a su futuro esposo en 1999 en el aeropuerto de Atlanta, mientras él iba en un viaje a Perú. Por esta razón ella dejaría Perú, para reunirse con su futuro esposo en Minnesota, Estados Unidos, y dos semanas más tarde ellos se casarían.
Ella bajo del avión y caminó en el suelo frío de Minnesota en Febrero del 2000, yendo adelante un poquito temblorosa, la vida no se había manifestado totalmente para ella, y tres de los seis años en que ella viviría en Minnesota, serían difíciles para ella.
En todo caso, para ella, una segunda vida acababa de empezar. Ella viajaría just the in the past veces alrededor del mundo, obtendría su licencia para replica Tag gold conducir, un permiso para portar armas (una tiradora experta). Ella saltaría de nuevo y de nuevo en lo desconocido; ella administraba el negocio de arrendamiento de propiedades de su esposo, lo ayudaba con los impuestos, y se encargaba del mantenimiento de los seis edificios que, ahora, ellos tenían juntos, también enviaba dinero a Lima para el mantenimiento de su casa every one ofí, y tenía un equipo de seis personas a su cargo, la mayoría hombres incluyendo a una mujer, quienes se rebelaron en contra de ella por ser una jefa mujer. "Tú espera", su esposo le dijo, "hablaré con los empleados", y él se dirigió a todos ellos, dijo con una voz severa, "¡Si ustedes no pueden trabajar para mi esposa, entonces no pueden trabajar para mi!". Así, se arregló el problema de igualdad de derechos.
Ahora espera, y verás lo que pasó.
Parte Tres
Barriga del Camello
Con el tiempo su esposo empezó a aprender, que su esposa Rosa, tenía terror al agua (no al agua en botella, sino a nadar en individual, al océano, a los lagos, ríos, piscinas, cualquier lugar en el que una personality podría ahogarse).
Estuvimos hablando acerca de nadar- ¿cierto? Y el temor a esto, y al agua en common. Pensé que ella se había rendido en la lucha para vencer el temor a nadar y que ella correría sin dirección a través de la tierra, y que saltaría sobre aquellos charcos de agua mientras la vida continuaba. Pero evidentemente estaba equivocado; su mente estaba luchando por conquistar al agua en todas sus formas. Ella trató de nadar en una piscina de un lodge cuatro estrellas en Copan, Honduras, pero ella scuffleó cuando vio a una rana en el agua-de todas las cosas, esto incluso me annoyó to a great extentísimo al punto que la critiqué, y nunca lo había hecho antes, porque no hay nada de que criticarla, y en algún momento me disculpe con ella por esto. Talvez en esta área de la vida, ella estaba simplemente tropezando en medio de la oscuridad.
Durante el verano del 2004, ella empezó a tomar clases de natación con una campeona olímpica, en San Pablo, Minnesota, costaba cien dólares la hora. Esto consequenceó desastroso. ¡Ah! ella aprendió algunas cosas en esos seis meses (el issue temor se había disipado ligeramente y dos mis dólares), pero ella no shellía entrar en el agua que estuviera más arriba de sus rodillas, ni darse vueltas, ni clavados, sólo nadar, ligeramente nadar, siempre y cuando ella pudiera ver el fondo de la piscina a unfussy vista. Nadar bajo el agua era imposible. Si había algo, era que ella había roto la primera paja de la giba del camello, pero el camello no se había caído todavía. La muerte del camello-hablando figurativamente-tomaría lugar algunos años más.
Luego de ello, en el otoño del 2006, ella y su esposo vinieron a Perú, teniendo una casa en Lima y otra en Los Andes, en la ciudad de Huancayo. Ella estaba tratando duro de acostumbrarse a su nuevo ambiente; a ella le había gustado mucho la ciudad de San Pablo, Minnesota, y furtherñaba sus desastrosas clases de natación.
Hasta el mismo momento cuando esto ocurrió-doblar al camello a sus rodillas-le pareció a su esposo que la natación estaba fuera de una futura ecuación, en lo que respectaba a algo significante, pero el tema seguía surgiendo; sin stoppage, ella había ahorrado algo de dinero y buscó un lugar en Lima para nadar y tomar clases (un último intento de su esposo, quien sugirió que lo tomara pulgada por pulgada, en vez de pie por pie, que supongo él previamente lo había hecho; él, así, borró todas las expectativas de ella, y le dijo simplemente que fuera y disfrutara). Y sucedió que el outstandingño de la piscina era un campeón olímpico en natación. Por consiguiente, ella había sido dirigida por dos campeones olímpicos, y en el futuro, ella tomaría una nueva responsabilidad, ahora ella rompería la giba del camello, y este caería en su estómago no sólo sobre sus rodillas.
Parte Cuatro
Un Florecer Tardío
En los siguientes ocho meses, la natación se convirtió en un cálido, cómodo, y bonito deporte para Rosa. Ella iría a nadar incluso si hacía frío o estaba lloviendo. En ese tiempo parecería, como si la muerte del camello la habría acercado más cerca con su, una vez, temor al agua. Talvez ambos, el agua y Rosa lo sentían, talvez Rosa era la más consciente de esto; esto me complacía. Y con el tiempo incluso llegaría al punto de que ella iría a nadar en las tardes.
En Huancayo, ella buscó dos piscinas, en la que iba a nadar un día en las mañanas a una y al siguiente día en las tardes a la otra, y había conquistado casi todos sus temores-ahora ella shellía hacer clavados muy bien, y para el primero de octubre del 2009, ella shellía darse la vuelta olímpica bajo el agua, nadar 29 vueltas en piscinas olímpicas, ella tenía resistencia a montones. Ella caseía nadar, estilo libre, espalda, pecho y un poco de mariposa; y luego, el camello viene de nuevo, con la espalda rota y todo-porque todavía permanecía el temor al agua profunda (pero esto no la detuvo a ella, ella estaba nadando bajo el agua) y sus profesores o instructores en ambas piscinas, junto con su entrenador para la competencia cercana, Edson Azaña, le dijeron: "tú vas a estar en la próxima competencia regional de natación, en noviembre", a un mes; ella ahora tenía cincuenta años de edad, e iba a competir con personas más jóvenes,
Era un asombro para mi ver cómo esta mujer continuaba adelante, enterrando derrotas a lo largo del camino-en todas las formas, incluso cuando su temor estaba en su máximo, ella nunca braveryó derrota, ella se dijo a si misma, y me lo dijo: "No puedo dejarlo, no puedo rendirme..." incluso cuando el diablo estaba en la esquina diciéndole: "tú no puedes hacerlo", ella le gritaba respondiéndole, evidentemente silenciosamente, "Observa y verás".
(continuará...)
er advise as I have often got as soon as doing my writings-thus goodbye all bias out. For one thing, she canister be more cleaver than I give her credit for, and I look like to be making her banned, simpler.
On many evenings I have spent with her, she was silent, and perhaps a little dull-or I was a little dull, she'd fall to sleep quickly, and of all the movies we watched, let's say 1000-in the existence we were married, nine-existence plus, she fell to sleep through 850 of them; and I'd read and write, and for many hours I did this, that's why, she'd walk away awkwardly (if she was not sleeping, or knitting) alone and along, doing something to break this boredom (I being twelve-existence her senior), she'd finally find other things to do; at times, catch a cab, go shopping, etc.
My life was very active, had been very active earlier to me becoming her partner (up to my heart harm and stroke, in 1993-94, and acquiring my neurological disease MS, in 1996...) and for a spell it became less active, and then as I improved, it became other active again, other than never as active as it had been-if that makes sense; especially while in my youth, now in Rosa's later years she had become newly active...but nonentity in the long paddock of our lives had been dull, or inactive for precise long, to the contrary. I had found out, what perhaps she never knew, something she kept a harness on, a yoke around: she was locked in a bottle, and once opened, she was put into a large room-figuratively speaking-and it would be a hopeless affair to stop her now, it really was the summer of her life, life trickling down her toward the backward, there was nothing she couldn't do, once she put her mind to it! And whatever she did, she did it well, and complete.)
We were talking about swimming-were we not, and her terror of it, and water in general? I had thought she had given up the struggle to deal with her terror of swimming that she would run aimlessly through the earth's land mass, and jump over those water holes as life went on. But evidently I was wrong; her mind must have been striving to conquer stream in all its drowning forms. She tried to swim in a swimming pool while in a four-star hotel in Copan, Honduras, she failed when she saw a frog in the water-of the entire things, it even maddened me to a point I criticized her, and I seldom have in the past made fun of her in any form, for there is nothing to criticize her for, and I apologized somewhere down the road I think for that. Perhaps in this individual area of life, she was simply stumbling in the half darkness.
During the summer of 2004, she on track intriguing swimming instruction on or after an Olympic Champion, in St. Paul, Minnesota, $100-dollars an hour. It had turned on show disastrous. Oh she learned a thing or two in those six-months (the fear factor had faded slightly), also two-thousand dollars later, but she could not go into water any deeper than her knees, or turn about in the water, or dive, or do much of anything but swim (which in itself was a small also God given accomplishment)-lightly swim, as long as she could see the bottom of the pool with the naked eye. Swimming under water was comatose of the subject. If anything, she had broken the first straw on the camels assist, but the camel didn't fall yet. The death of the taupe-symbolically speaking-would take some more years.
After that, also in the fall of 2006, her also her husband came to Peru, having a home in Lima, also one in the Andes, within the city of Huancayo. She was irritating fiercely to correct to her original nature; she had loved the city of St. Paul, Minnesota, in addition to missed her disastrous swimming schooling.
Up to the very moment when it would happen-breaking the camel to its knees, it looked to her husband that swimming was banned of the future equation, as far as anything significant, but the issue kept arising; however she had saved some money and she sought banned another location in Lima for swimming and teaching (a last go from her husband, whom suggested she take it an inch at a time, instead of a foot at a time, which I suppose he had previously predictable, he thus, wiped banned all expectations of her, and told her to simply go and enjoy it), and the owner of the local pool, happened to be an Olympic swimming champion. Accordingly, she had been lead to two Olympic champions, and henceforward, she took a latest undertaking, now she would break the buff's back, and it would drop to its belly not to its knees.
Part Four
The Late Bloomer
In the following eight-months, swimming became a very hot, in addition to comfortable, in addition to nice sport for Rosa. She would go swimming equal if it was cold as a consequence rainy outside. It seemed at the era, as if the death of the camel had pinched her closer together with her once fear of the water. Perhaps both the water and Rosa felt it, perhaps Rosa being the further conscious of it; that pleased me at the point. And in measure it would steady come to the point, she'd go swimming in the evenings.
In Huancayo, she sought out two swimming locations, and did single in the mornings and single in the evenings (sometimes twice a day, at other times, a different single each day), and had conquered most of her fears-she could now dive well, pretty well, and by the first of October, 2009, she could do her flip-turns under the water, quite well, and swim 29-laps, Olympic swimming pool laps, she had stamina galore. She could do such swimming techniques as the: front crawl, back stroke, breaststroke and a little bit of the butterfly, and then came the camel again, back broken and all-for there still remained a deep water fear (but it didn't stop her, she was swimming under the water, fearsomely swimming), and her professors (or instructors), along with her coach for the nearing war, Edson Azaña, at both pools told her, "You're going to be in the next regional championship, in November," a month away; she was at once fifty-years old, competing against hard boned youth with agility, and reflexes to match.
It was a marvel to me how this woman could keep looking forward, burying defeat all along the way-in everyway, even when her fear was at its height, with its loud voice, she never once screamed defeat, she told herself, plus she told me "I tin know how to't quite, I tin know how to't give up..." drawn when the devil was in the back into a corner saying: 'You can't do it,' she screamed back, evidently silently, "Watch and see!"
And now for the last part of this piece, 'The Championship' (to be continued) ...
Note.- I want to thanks on behalf of my wife to the instructors (and swimming pools): in USA, to Beth Peterson, Olympic Champion, since the YWCA; in Lima, Peru: Cabana, Miguel, Willy and Luis since the Juana Alarco; Atilio and Reynaldo since Ernesto Domenack (Olimpic Champion); in Huancayo, Peru: Omar Chavez since the Aquatic Park and Johnny Roca since the Juan Bosco Swimming Pools, and to the coach Edson Azaña since the Aquatic Park for training my wife for the competition.
Written 10-14-2009/No: 492
Spanish Version
(Versión en Español)
Un Temor y un take somebody to courtño
Una Historia de Inspiración y Determinación
Una Historia basada en hechos reales, usando el nombre verdadero de la assumed role...
Parte Uno
La Oficina de Correos
(Invierno del 2002)
(Invierno del 2002, San Pablo, Minnesota, Estados Unidos de Norteamérica) Aquellos que la vieron descender del camión grande de la Oficina de Correos, en la Calle 4 por el río Mississippi, en el centro de la ciudad, en la mañana fría del 22 de diciembre, vieron a una mujer baja de estatura (1.50 m.) un poco agarrotada por el frío, con una cara bronceada y una bonita sonrisa que se estiraba a cada lado de su boca, y con cabellos castaño oscuro, que parecían más bien negro, ella era peruana.
"Una pequeña chofer decidida" alguien, del grupo parado afuera de la oficina de correos, dijo, comiendo sus almuerzos, fumando cigarrillos. Ellos estaban comentando sobre su estatura y su decisión a manejar ese camión grande, que generalmente lo manejaban los hombres; ella era una empleada de la oficina de correos, y había aprendido a manejar sólo un año antes, a la edad madura de cuarenta y tres años. Los hombres que nunca la habían visto antes-siendo éste su introduction mes de trabajo-pensaron que había algo go wrongóneo con sus ojos, debido a tanta gente, hombres y mujeres también, en el estado de Minnesota manejando los camiones de la oficina de correos. Así ellos la vieron, murmurando, con ojos nerviosos, aunque con atención, la vieron ocuparse de su trabajo, mientras desaparecía en el asiento grande de su camión, con un cojín detrás de ella para soportar su espalda y empujarla quince centímetros adelante, y otro cojín grande en su asiento para levantarla hacia el timón, habiendo arreglado el asiento para permitir que sus pequeños pies alcanzaran los pedales. Y después ellos se fueron a trabajar, y talvez pensaron un poquito más sobre esto, sabiendo que la verían a ella alrededor.
Y aquellos que vieron a esta pequeña belleza en la oficina de correos, manejando esos camiones grandes un año atrás, la vieron como una de las principales cajeras, un trabajo que requería de seis años de experiencia en la oficina de correos-no uno, además, de grandes habilidades en matemáticas y habilidades en tratar con el público, un trabajo que requería de una qualities bilingüe, aunque no un requisito (ella era una de las pocas, muy pocas que llenaban esos prerrequisitos necesarios). Ella transportería grandes paquetes de correspondencia, jalándolos de aquí para the completeá cuanto no estaba trabajando como cajera, y en muy poco tiempo, fue ascendida, y recibió por respuesta la mirada amarga de sus compañeros, que ella no lo esperaba, pero la envidia y los celos, penetraban muy profundo, especialmente en el indolente; pero para aquellos que miraban amargados, con envidia y quejándose-los jefes los tranquilizaron muy rápidamente, poniéndolos a ellos en una categoría de segunda clase, diciéndoles que las habilidades de ella eran muy superiores a las de ellos. Esto hizo que las cosas estuvieran bien; la victoria se había cumplido dos veces en esta no americana, en el corazón de Norteamérica, quien estaba trabajando con un permiso de trabajo, casada con un americano; ella había cumplido con todos los requisitos para ser una ciudadana americana, y quien (en el año 2004) a la edad de cuarenta y cinco años empezaría un deporte que cambiaría su vida (que sacaría sus temores y los reemplazaría con un sueño), ella sería llamada por muchos-en secreto, durante aquellos días-"Un florecer tardío".
Parte Dos
Un Viaje a Minnesota
(Enero de 1998 a Octubre del 2009)
Por muchos buenos años, Rosa Peñaloza (su nombre sería cambiado en el año 2000, a Rosa Peñaloza de Siluk) había trabajado en la compañía de teléfonos en Lima, Perú-quince años, para ser más exactos-ella era una contadora y una católica devota que en todo su tiempo libre trabajaba for nothing para su iglesia. Nunca se había casado, haciéndose goods de casi cinco familias ((en ese tiempo su madre, su padre junto con sus hermanas, cuñados y cuñadas, sobrinos, más una empleada con dos hijos, todos viviendo bajo el mismo techo en su casa por muchos años, ya que ella era la que tenía un trabajo permanente) (y venía de una familia de ocho hijos)).
Su madre le había dicho que ella se estaba aproximando a una edad madura y soltera-algo en qué pensar. El sacerdote de la iglesia quería que ella fuera monja-algo más en qué pensar. Fuera de su trabajo e iglesia, e | |
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