Have you ever wondered why Book Day is celebrated on April 23? This date was chosen because it coincides with the passing of iconic authors such as Miguel de Cervantes, William Shakespeare and Inca Garcilaso De la Vega.
Although our passion is flamenco, dance, yoga… there is time for everything in life.
That’s why we want to celebrate this day with you, and what better way to do it than reading. The story we have selected for you is not an excerpt from Don Quixote or Hamlet, but we are confident that you will enjoy it just the same.
once upon a time in miyajima
Yamato Kimura left his home behind and like every day began the walk through the humble streets of his village in Miyajima. Mr. Yamato was a respected man in the community, who had never had a bad word or a flaw of which he could be accused.
He worked for many years with total dedication for a company in which he was promoted by his merits. Intelligent investments, according to some, the result of privileged information, savings and effort allowed him to accumulate a fortune, or at least that was supposed to be the case, since in fact Mr. Kimura had not changed his life rhythm at all. The same house where his children grew up and his wife died, discreet car, simple life… perhaps his fortune was just a myth.
He walked slowly, greeting everyone in his path. The day was gray and a fine rain refreshed the thoughts that had long been burning in his head. The route was always the same, all the way to the coast. He saw the sea, sat in front of it and reflected for half an hour of absolute immobility. On the way back, at his friend Yuzuro’s establishment, he would sit down for tea and chat about the important and the banal. These were moments of peace that his spirit was once grateful for when work overwhelmed him and that he now needed as an indispensable part of his life. He and Yuzuro had been friends since childhood.
It came as a surprise to all who appreciated him to see that nothing changed when Yamato took early retirement. He said he was tired, that he no longer had family responsibilities and that the money he had saved would be enough for him.
That day it seemed to Yuzuro that his friend was especially cheerful, almost strange. He talked about how beautiful he found the sea and told him what his eldest son had excitedly told him over the phone, that he was going to give him a grandchild. And so it was that tea gave way to sake to celebrate the life to come. Yuzuro calmed down, perhaps the idea of being a grandfather was what gave a different look to his friend’s face.
Mr. Kimura walked slowly through the humble streets of his village on his way home. The small man was now part of the landscape. The walls became greener with the rain that never stopped, the earth darker. The scents of the nearby forest mingled with those of his neighbors’ gardens, all enveloped in the breeze coming in from the ocean.
For months Mr. Yamato had been working on soundproofing one of the rooms in his house while filling it with loudspeakers and mirrors. The floor was made of a special type of wood that he bought from an importer in the city at the price of gold. It must be for money! As he did every night, he entered the secret room. He changed his traditional clothes for a black shirt and tight pants. On his feet he wore shoes with metal rivets.
Music played loudly on the Toshiba, he threw his head back, erect, and blew his bangs in a graceful gesture that erased Yamato and turned him into Pepe el Japonés (Pepe the Japanese). The first heels on the stage awakened his heart like thunder and the sunlight illuminated his flamenco soul. He danced tirelessly with the power that only passion can provide. At times he would shout with joy, sing suffocated by the effort and spin, stomp his feet with strength and defiantly let himself be carried away to a total ecstasy of sweat, rhythm and freedom.
Yuzuro took the letter that had appeared in his mailbox without a return address. It was the first handwritten letter he had received in years. He knew it was something important, sat down on the porch and slowly, reverently took out the paper. Yamato was saying goodbye to him and told him that he was going to Spain to learn flamenco, that time was passing and that he had to start dancing and living. Water!!!!
Paloma Rey
If you are interested in discovering more works by this author, just let us know.
And if you have your own story related to dance and would like to see it published in our blog, please send it to info@trantrandance.com.
