Day: February 24, 2014

8

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It had already been two years since P had decided to embrace the rural life. Tired of his experience abroad, of working for big corporations and living in different cities, he had came back home for good.  He had spent his entire youth trying to run away. This was no romantic or hasty escape but an escape to move forward. To get away from the village where he had grown up and see the world. So, having seen the world, and having achieved all he had been aiming for, he had understood it: everything that happens during your adolescence becomes part of you and you never leave it behind. No matter how far you go, how hard you try to escape from it, it remains in you and it makes you develop in a different way.  During all those years abroad he always reckoned that coming back overnight would be a failure. He left to achieve a kind of goal that didn’t exist in reality; therefore he would never be able to come back.

Everything changed the last year he was overseas. That night had saddened him a lot. The story about E had really afflicted him and his failed relationship with M didn’t help much in those moments. That pushed him to take the decisive step. To come back once and for all and not feel afraid. To cultivate the land that had been awaiting him. It had already been two years since he had become a farmer. All those wheat lands that a few years ago seemed like an open prison to him, now made him feel safe. He spent hours in his tractor, looking at the horizon and breathing that unmistakable smell. He no longer wanted to find a way out. Actually, he was convinced that, if he had never found it, everything would have ended much better.

He went out and closed the door of the country house. The wet land’s smell altered his consciousness. He never would have thought that it would be his last time having that feeling. Little could he imagine that, now that he understood it, he would be gone forever. This time for good.

This time, very far away and forever.

8

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Feia ja dos anys que en P havia decidit abraçar la vida rural. Cansat de tota la seva experiència a l’estranger, de treballar per grans corporacions i de viure a unes quantes ciutats diferents, havia tornat definitivament. Tota l’adolescència l’havia passat pensant a fugir. No en una fugida romàntica o precipitada, sinó una fugida cap endavant: marxar del poble que l’havia vist créixer i conèixer món. Doncs bé, un cop conegut el món, una vegada aconseguit tot el que havia anhelat durant tants anys, ho havia entès: tot allò que et passa quan ets adolescent forma part de tu i mai no ho deixes enrere. Per molt lluny que vagis. Per molt fort que provis de fugir. Per molt que ho intentis. Roman a dins i et canvia i et fa evolucionar d’una altra manera. En tots aquells anys a l’estranger s’havia anat formant la idea de què tornar d’un dia per l’altre, tornar al poble, seria un fracàs. Que havia marxat per assolir una mena de repte que en realitat no existia i, per tant, no podria tornar mai més.

Durant l’últim any que va passar fora tot va canviar. Aquella nit l’havia afectat molt. Tot allò de l’E l’havia deixat ben tocat i la seva relació fallida amb la M tampoc no l’ajudava en aquells moments. Tot plegat va fer que es decidís a fer el pas. A tornar d’una vegada i a no tenir por mai més. A conrear la terra que l’havia estat esperant. Ara feia dos anys que era a pagès i tots aquells camps de blat, que anys enrere li semblaven una gran presó oberta, ara el feien sentir segur. Es passava hores al cim del tractor, mirant a l’horitzó i respirant profundament aquella olor inconfusible. Ja no volia trobar una sortida. De fet, estava convençut que si no l’hagués trobat mai, tot hauria acabat molt millor.

Va sortir de casa i va tancar la porta del mas. L’olor de terra mullada li alterava la consciència. De cap manera es podia imaginar que seria l’última vegada que tindria aquella sensació. Poc es pensava que, ara que ho havia entès, marxaria. Aquest cop, de veritat. Aquesta vegada, ben lluny i per sempre més.