Letters

I just missed the era of letter writing. My grandmother’s generation was probably the last to really make an art out of it. While it was a necessity for most as a way of communication there was still an elegance and formality to it. There was a romance behind it even if it was a heartfelt letter between friends. Something about getting your stationary, taking your time to write out your innermost thoughts and feelings and then sending it off counting down the days until you may receive one in return. I have always been a big fan of letter writing as has my mom. I have tons of letters from her throughout different phases in my life. I have also written a few to those close to me as well. There was a time when my 8th grade best friend moved away and letters were our way of communication. There was a magic to it, and I still have them to this day. 

I think the closest our generation got to letter writing though was the passing of notes in school. It was a little less elegant but had its own rhythm to it all the same. Trying to pass it back 2-3 people down your row so your teacher wouldn’t see, or slyly passing it off in the hall. If you got one from your crush or even sent one to your crush I like to imagine it held a similar amount of excitement and romance. In my grandmother’s case it was a time where letter writing was sometimes the most intimate you got with your partner and in my case it was the age that limited romance. “Dating” in middle school meant a lot of note passing, hand holding and giggling. 

Letter writing seems to be a lost art and I still love receiving a letter or a note from someone I love. Picturing them sitting there taking their time to write out words meant only for you and sending it off is a whole different type of gesture. Living away from my closest friends every once in a while I get a card or a letter and it's a love language all its own, our own declaration that one is missed. 

Letters and a Lola

When we went back to Oruro I reconnected with Henry Mendez. My relationship with Henry started and it was easy and wonderful even though we were not living in the same place. I went back to LaPaz and he was still in Oruro teaching and later he would find a job in an oil camp, but the letters start coming at this time. These letters meant so much to me and I still have every single one today. We would write back and forth and try to see each other as much as we could. He came to see me a couple of times before moving to the oil camp because it was much further from LaPaz. We also went to Cochabamba for Carnival and every time we saw each other it was just one of the most wonderful experiences, we knew we needed to be together. 

In one of his letters he shared with me that before we started writing again he met a girl in Santa Cruz and he had fallen in love with her, Lola. He had gotten a letter from her at the same time my letters started to come. He told me that he had chosen me and that his heart would always be mine but that he had once been in love with someone else. I accepted that but part of me had this little doubt in my mind and I would wonder ‘is he really in love with me or did I push him into it’. It was just a question that was kept in the back of my mind. Even after we ended up marrying, that first year I kept wondering if he felt he made the right choice. I had always heard how beautiful this girl was from others who knew her and it took me meeting her to really let it go. We were in La Paz after our son was born and we ran into a woman and Henry said hello and we kept walking. Later I asked who that was and he said “that was Lola”. I thought THAT was Lola, she was pretty but nothing like this woman I had built up in my head. And that’s when I decided I would never be jealous again, I had wasted a whole year of my life worrying about something that wasn’t even real. 

But anyways, going back, here starts one of the most interesting times in my life full of magic and mystery and a lot of love. 

A Letter of Intent

My life in La Paz took on a special rhythm. I couldn’t go out anymore because nobody could go out at night after the revolution. We had to be home very early but I was able to still teach during the day. I kept teaching and kept looking forward to the next time I may see Henry as the letters kept coming. It was 1954, my birthday would be on August 11th and he said he was flying in for my birthday. He must have arrived really late because he ended up showing up at my house at midnight. I was already in bed so when I opened the door to my room, there he was. He said he couldn’t wait to see me until the morning but he didn’t want to come in of course. He gave me a little hug and kiss and he left. In the morning he came again and we went out and we began talking as we always did. We always had so much to say to each other. But anyway we went home and in the little garden in front of my house he said “I am coming to get you and take you away, you are going to be my wife.” I was surprised and looked at him and I said “yes I would like to be your wife”. He looked at me smiling and said “then don’t forget senorita Velasco that you are promised to me”. He said that he was going to write to my parents asking for my hand because he had to leave the next day. I agreed that was the proper thing to do. 

I was always so sad when he left but yet I knew that so much was going to happen because we had decided to get married on December the 20th. He wrote a letter to my dad but the letter didn’t get there so he kept calling on the phone, actually it was a radio, so we talked on the radio. He asked “did you get the letter yet”? We came to find out that the letter had been sent to my father’s brother Charlie who lived in LaPaz, so Charlie would bring the letter personally. I called Charlie and said “aren't you supposed to be delivering something from my dad”. When he came with the letter my dad read it and I kept asking “dad what does it say” but he wouldn’t say a word. He would just tell me it was between him and Henry. It was lunchtime and the whole family was there and my dad read the letter out loud. I will never forget it, I still have it to this day, what he said was so beautiful. Henry said it’s like a tree that has roots and branches and sometimes they have to branch away from the tree. He said I don’t have a lot of riches, I can’t offer her that, but I am young and I can and will build a future for her. He said it will be a successful marriage because we love each other very much. 

Soon, my Chiquini, I will translate the letter for you but it was just very beautiful. So anyway my dad looked at me and said “so he wants to marry you” and I said “yes dad, I would like to marry him too” and then he turned to the whole family and asked what they thought. My mom said he was a wonderful man, my oldest brother Fernando said “poor Henry”, and my other brother agreed with my mom, that he too liked Henry. Chi Chi just giggled and the youngest Patty started crying. I thought oh sweet Patty, and told her not to worry that I would come and visit her. But that’s not why she was crying. She was crying because SHE wanted to marry Henry and he had told her that he would marry her and oh my goodness she was so upset. The whole time I kept wondering what my dad thought though as he never said anything. He ended up writing to Henry and welcoming him to the family.