What Happens When The Spanish Came To South America

“Suddenly, we were like two little kids working on a kindergarten project. Screaming ideas randomly and laughing at the outcome. We were lost, completely lost.”

This is the story of how I realized how with an action, project, or idea you might not change the whole world but you will definitely change someone’s. This tale takes place in a remote city in South America, which was important and magnificent when the Spanish arrived to America; nonetheless, almost 500 years later, Lima is not what it was. Nowadays, our city lacks of light, kindness and hope. People do not fight for the city’s interests but their own; people seek money, power, and glory; despite the good or bad consequence they could cause. For all these reasons, I wanted a change,
Something, someone must have been responsible for this spectacular situation. I went down there every Monday at the same time for almost three months until, finally, I knew what was happening, who was making it happen. So, there she was, standing at the curb; she was smiling, definitely proud of what she had achieved. She was a stunning twenty four, maybe twenty five year-old woman, who was kind of tall; with long, beautiful and brown hair; brown, yellow-ish eyes; and she had the prettiest smile I have ever seen. I stepped up and I started mumbling. She looked me and, I don’t know how, she was not creeped out. She, actually, was cool with it, I think she understood me. Luckily, after a couple of seconds, I got myself together and started to talk like a human being. After the rough start, we talked for almost an hour about everything and then I asked her out to continue the conversation.

We met at the café on “La gárgola” street at 7 o’clock, my favorite restaurant at my favorite time of the day. It was perfect because after eating we could walk as I am used to. She arrived three minutes before the time set, I remember perfectly. I ordered a cappuccino and she ordered an expresso. The date was going okay, she told me a little about herself and I told jokes; nothing out of the ordinary. Until I finally asked about what was going on with the kids playing on the street last
First, I heard and learned the story. Then, I started to know the people involved in it and I got to know them, amazing people with spectacular stories, different from each other but it led them to the same place. After a couple of weeks, I was ready to participate in some projects. I remember the first day I ever helped in those activities was on February, the project was called “Getting to Know You”. We visited old people and we got to know them, we heard their stories and I think that at the end of the day, they help you more than you help them. I learned that every story is worth telling. On the other hand, I was still in contact with her and we went out several times, but it was purely platonic; nothing