The Year of the Three Wishes

THE YEAR OF THE THREE WISHES

Trujillo, mid-1980s. Eduardo and a group of Law students

Once upon a time, in 1981, the stars aligned in my favor, and my fairy godmother granted me three wishes. One might have been enough. Two would have been great news. But the good tidings came in abundance—and there were three!

If anyone were to argue that any of my three wishes was no big deal, I would say that when you have grown up in a neighborhood like mine, where there were days when we local kids went to school not only barefoot but also with empty bellies, then these three wishes held a very special significance.

I was eleven years old when, in 1972, my father closed his corner store in Chimbote’s San Isidro Barrio and opened a tricycle and bicycle repair shop on the second block of Buenos Aires Avenue. From that very first day, I helped my father in his workshop after school, on weekends, and during school vacations.

I worked there daily until 1977. During the following four years, my attendance became more flexible. By then, I had begun a political militancy that, for a few years, became the passion of my life. My father supported my foray into politics; he released me from the workshop and only called me back during the busiest days.

When I finished high school in 1978, I had my mind made up to study Law and Political Science. For two years, I traveled to Lima to apply, but I was unsuccessful. I was too busy with politics and didn't take the entrance exams seriously.

In November 1980, I turned twenty and still didn't have a girlfriend. I had dated girls, but not that special someone I so vehemently yearned for—the one whose absence left a hollow feeling in my days.

Then came 1981: The Year of the Three Wishes.

That year, I took my studies seriously. I prepared myself and easily gained admission to study Law and Political Science at the National University of Trujillo.

A few weeks later, I received a letter from the Social Security office in Chimbote, informing me that I had been hired to work at the Laderas del Norte Hospital with a substantial salary.

And a few days after that, I met Adita, my first girlfriend.

I remember that Wednesday in 1981 when I walked to my father’s workshop with the Social Security letter in my hand. “I start this new job in three days,” I told him. We had shared nearly ten years in that shop, and this was our farewell. We talked for a long time, as we always did. Then he reached out his hand, and while shaking mine, he said: “You’re ready now.” And I walked away.

I started out working in the hospital’s laundry. Eleven years later, when I left the Peruvian Social Security Institute, I was the regional personnel director in the city of Trujillo, overseeing a payroll of two thousand five hundred employees.

Due to the chaos in the university system, my studies in Trujillo began nearly two years after the entrance exam. During that time, I continued working in Chimbote. I started my first courses at the Faculty of Law and Political Science by traveling every single day. My workday ended at one in the afternoon; at that hour, I would wait by the side of the hospital on the Pan-American Highway for the El Águila bus. My classes in Trujillo ran from three in the afternoon until nine at night. By nearly midnight, I was back in Chimbote. Fortunately, before the end of 1983, I was transferred to work in Trujillo. Ironically, my best academic performance of my entire college career occurred during that first year of daily commutes.

Adita was with “La Colorada” Gladys that night when I met her. I arrived at the APRA Party headquarters, and for some reason, I didn’t head to the youth office as I did every day. I made my way to the press and communications office; there I found Gladys and a very beautiful girl I didn’t know. I always believed that “La Colorada” could have been my first girlfriend. But it didn't happen. We were too closely bound by the chains of friendship and didn’t know how to find the link that would lead us to the chains of love.

I greeted Gladys first. She must have noticed something in the way Adita and I looked at each other, because she stepped back a few paces, leaving a space through which a great love slipped in. “I’m Eduardo,” I said to Adita as I shook her hand. “I’ve been told you’ll be the next general secretary of the youth,” she replied. In the press office, there was a strong smell of bulky paper and mimeograph ink, but a different scent filled the office at that moment. It was the aroma of love. And it had just arrived in my life.

Years passed. In 1994, I traveled to Europe. Social Security and the law were left behind. That first love ended much sooner. Each of the three wishes of 1981 left a different mark, but when it comes to matters of the heart... no doubt about it! Those are the ones that left the best memories in my soul.

And that is how this story ends.

New Hampshire, USA

March, 2012

Eduardo, 1981

The long-standing Social Security Hospital in Chimbote, 

next to the Pan-American Highway

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