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1421

Hugo Chavez's Blog

Web Address: http://www.zcommunications.org/zspace/hugochavez
Bio: Hugo Chavez, revolutionary president of Venezuela... (More)

All Chavez Blogs

'La maisantera:' The beautiful life, the beautiful love

By Hugo Chavez at Feb 09, 2009


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Caracas, Feb 09 ABN (Hugo Chavez Frias).- "Happy is the citizen who, under the shield of the armies he commands, has convoked national sovereignty to exercise its absolute will" (February 15, 1819)

We all know these words were pronounced by the father Bolívar on February 15, 1819, during that memorable speech in the open ceremony of the Congress of Angostura, which took place in the south bank of the Orinoco River. One hundred and ninety years later, this is exactly what will happen in Venezuela. The people, great sons and daughters of Bolívar, are once again going to exercise their right to vote in order to express their democratic will.

And again, as it happened in the last ten years of revolution, it's exactly what the majority decides in the polling tables what will count.

The commemoration of the February 4th was a real popular-military apotheosis that took place in Maracay. I had the opportunity to visit again the old Páez barrack and say hello to the odd officer and parachutist troops of the Battalion Antonio Nicolás Briceño.

There you have the formation backyard, it's intact and surrounded of big trees. And up there, you have the same spiral staircase; the commander's office, the banner... the memories... "It seems it was yesterday."

Then you have the Constitution Avenue full of people and soldiers. There, I ran into some old fellows, great comrades who ratified our patriotic commitment with their presence.

The fifth phase of the campaign is up and running. A real hurricane toured the people of Mariara, San Joaquín, Guacara and Los Guayos.

The excitement, the frenzy, the unleashed passion are indescribable!

As indescribable were the feelings that overwhelmed me when we arrived in that house "La Maisantera", which was the humble house of Rosita, María, Huguito, Nancy and me from 1989 to 1992.

The street, the unforgettable street full of people; the old neighbors, their children, who are now men and women, young students and professionals; my buddies José Rafael and Minina, my godson Ronald... Mauro Araujo who, at that time was Captain, and today is a Bolivarian Air Force Major-General; Alejo and Zulay, some of the most enthusiastic neighbors whose house was the place where we used to play domino, especially on Fridays night.

The Grandillo family, Jenny and Arnoldo, whose sons are coleadores1 and their daughters are now beautiful women who work for the revolution.

Rosa Virginia and María Gabriela are always stuck to me; they became a mysterious palpitation, a magic presence. We finally went in the house through the door through which I went out that stormy dawn and came back today, seventeen years and three days later. We were welcomed by a beautiful Portuguese-Venezuelan family, full of comprehension, affection and love. Mrs. Ana María was born in the paradisiacal island of Madeira in Portugal; she has a 15-days newborn baby called Anthony Gabriel.

She kindly put the baby on my arms and, ignoring the noise, he came to rest and sleep close to my chest.

Freddy Moreno, born in San Joaquín, is a family man worker with a loving smile. He was hugging Freddy Alejandro and Ana Patricia, the eldest children of the family Moreno Pereira.

My tears were just unavoidable and I left them there, watering that sacred place, as a tribute to what it represents to me; a real love, a sublime love nest. It's a tribute to the past that throbs there; and especially a tribute to the future which emerges everywhere.

They generously allowed me to take a look at the rooms. There was the main room with the window towards the garage; that window through which the unmistakable voice of my friend Mimina Angarita came in one evening and let out a loud cry that was like a shot to me: "My friend, Felipe Acosta was killed!"

It was during the "Caracazo2," exactly at the break of day on March 1989.

This is the reason of these verses of the soul dedicated to el Catire Acosta:

"Felipe Acosta was killed,

they killed Felipe Acosta Carlez,

the storm of the peoples

is triggered off in the streets,

there was no one standing

from Petare to El Valle...

Oh gunshot, you took away

my friend in just a second!"


Further on, at the end of the corridor, oh my God, the children's room. On the left, a little bit more organized, Rosita and María Gabriela's room, with its little window to the backyard where we had planted a mango tree, which does not exist anymore. In that place, la "Negra" had a very productive small garden of tomato and paprika. On the right, with the door of the bathroom in the middle, there was the messy room of Huguito Rafael, where my son used to sing, draw and dreamt.

Then, we came in the kitchen. It was the same one! There I had two cups of coffee; I think the most delicious in the last seventeen years.

They gave me three coconuts from the coconut tree we planted one night of songs and full moon. How big it is! It is imposing, seigniorial and generous with its coconuts like a goddess breast...

Finally, we had a generous goodbye and the feeling of having a time travel to the past. With my two daughters, alive and cute symbols of my beautiful life, the beautiful love... I say thanks for the bottom of my heart!

After that, we started the caravan to San Joaquín, with its long streets full of people and memories, then, Guacara and Los Guayos, by ten at night.

The double armored attack moves without a break!

I carry on my chest a powerful weapon that grows everyday; it's the gift of the paths, the peoples, the children and memories:

Love!

Love!

Love!


For love, let's go (voting) on February 15:



Yes!

Yes!

Yes!



1 Coleo is a traditional Venezuelan and Colombian sport, very similar to a rodeo, where a small group of llaneros (cowboys) on horseback pursue cattle at high speeds through a narrow pathway (called a manga de coleo) in order to drop or tumble them.

2 The caracazo is the name given to the wave of protests, riots and looting that occurred on 27 February 1989 in the Venezuelan capital Caracas and surrounding towns. The riots resulted in a death toll of anywhere between 275 and 3000 deaths, mostly at the hands of security forces.ed to play domino, especially on Fridays night.

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