before the crunch came, he bought a country chalet in the hills outside Córdoba at Villa Allende and joined Córdoba’s exclusive Lawn Tennis Club, where his children swam and learned to play tennis. The Guevaras settled into a two-story rented home at Calle Chile 288, near the end of the street, where it met with Avenida Chacabuco, a boulevard lined with bulbous shade trees known as
palos borrachos
. Across the avenue lay the clipped green expanse and woods of Parque Sarmiento, the city zoo, the Lawn Tennis Club, and beyond, the University of Córdoba.
The Guevara home at Calle Chile retained the free, open atmosphere their friends had so enjoyed in Alta Gracia. Dolores Moyano, a new friend from one of Córdoba’s richest families, found it all very exotic. The furniture could barely be seen because of the books and magazines piled everywhere, and there were no fixed mealtimes that she could discern—one just ate when one felt hungry. The children were allowed to ride their bicyles from the street, through the living room, into the backyard.
Dolores soon discovered that the Guevaras exacted a price for their open-house policy. Once they sensed any pomposity, pedantry, or pretense in a visitor, they would tease him or her mercilessly. Young Ernesto led these attacks, and more than once Dolores found herself a target. His mother was just as provocative and could be exceedingly stubborn. His father, on the other hand, seemed immensely likable. Dolores remembered him as a man who exuded warmth and vitality. “He spoke in a booming voice, and was rather absentminded,” she wrote later. “Occasionally, he sent the children on errands which he had forgotten by the time they returned.”
II
The move to Córdoba coincided with the onset of young Ernesto’s adolescence. He began increasingly to assert himself, questioning the values of his bickering parents and forming the first glimmerings of his own worldview.
In his first year at the Colegio Nacional Dean Funes, Ernesto made new friends. The closest of these was Tomás Granado, the youngest of three sons of a Spanish emigré who worked as a railway conductor. At fourteen, Ernesto was still short for his years, but he was now slim instead of stocky. The bigger, huskier Tomás wore his hair stylishly slicked back, but Ernesto had an unfashionable buzz cut that earned him the nickname El Pelao (Baldy), one of several he acquired during his adolescence. (Latin Americans have a propensity for nicknames, and Argentinians, who love word-play, are especially keen on them.)
Before long, Tomás’s older brother Alberto had entered their circle as well. A first-year student of biochemistry and pharmacology at the University of Córdoba, the twenty-year-old Alberto, or Petiso (Shorty), was barely five feet tall and had a huge beaked nose, a barrel chest, and a footballer’s sturdy bowed legs. He also possessed a good sense of humor and a taste for wine, girls, literature, and rugby. He and Ernesto were separated by age, but in time their friendship became stronger than that between Ernesto and Tomás.
Alberto Granado was the coach of the local rugby team, Estudiantes, and Ernesto wanted desperately to try out for it, although Alberto was doubtfulabout his potential. “The first impression wasn’t very favorable,” Alberto recalled. “He wasn’t robust, with very thin arms.” But he decided to give the boy a try, and accepted him for training. Soon the wheezing lad was practicing with Estudiantes two evenings a week. He earned a reputation for his fearless attacks on the pitch, which he accomplished by running headlong at the player with the ball, yelling: “Look out, here comes El Furibundo Serna!” (
Furibundo
means furious, and Serna was an abbreviation of his maternal surname.) The war cry led Alberto to give Ernesto a new nickname, Fuser, while Alberto became Míal, for “
mi Alberto
.”
Alberto Granado took a special interest in Ernesto. He noticed that often,
palos borrachos
. Across the avenue lay the clipped green expanse and woods of Parque Sarmiento, the city zoo, the Lawn Tennis Club, and beyond, the University of Córdoba.
The Guevara home at Calle Chile retained the free, open atmosphere their friends had so enjoyed in Alta Gracia. Dolores Moyano, a new friend from one of Córdoba’s richest families, found it all very exotic. The furniture could barely be seen because of the books and magazines piled everywhere, and there were no fixed mealtimes that she could discern—one just ate when one felt hungry. The children were allowed to ride their bicyles from the street, through the living room, into the backyard.
Dolores soon discovered that the Guevaras exacted a price for their open-house policy. Once they sensed any pomposity, pedantry, or pretense in a visitor, they would tease him or her mercilessly. Young Ernesto led these attacks, and more than once Dolores found herself a target. His mother was just as provocative and could be exceedingly stubborn. His father, on the other hand, seemed immensely likable. Dolores remembered him as a man who exuded warmth and vitality. “He spoke in a booming voice, and was rather absentminded,” she wrote later. “Occasionally, he sent the children on errands which he had forgotten by the time they returned.”
II
The move to Córdoba coincided with the onset of young Ernesto’s adolescence. He began increasingly to assert himself, questioning the values of his bickering parents and forming the first glimmerings of his own worldview.
In his first year at the Colegio Nacional Dean Funes, Ernesto made new friends. The closest of these was Tomás Granado, the youngest of three sons of a Spanish emigré who worked as a railway conductor. At fourteen, Ernesto was still short for his years, but he was now slim instead of stocky. The bigger, huskier Tomás wore his hair stylishly slicked back, but Ernesto had an unfashionable buzz cut that earned him the nickname El Pelao (Baldy), one of several he acquired during his adolescence. (Latin Americans have a propensity for nicknames, and Argentinians, who love word-play, are especially keen on them.)
Before long, Tomás’s older brother Alberto had entered their circle as well. A first-year student of biochemistry and pharmacology at the University of Córdoba, the twenty-year-old Alberto, or Petiso (Shorty), was barely five feet tall and had a huge beaked nose, a barrel chest, and a footballer’s sturdy bowed legs. He also possessed a good sense of humor and a taste for wine, girls, literature, and rugby. He and Ernesto were separated by age, but in time their friendship became stronger than that between Ernesto and Tomás.
Alberto Granado was the coach of the local rugby team, Estudiantes, and Ernesto wanted desperately to try out for it, although Alberto was doubtfulabout his potential. “The first impression wasn’t very favorable,” Alberto recalled. “He wasn’t robust, with very thin arms.” But he decided to give the boy a try, and accepted him for training. Soon the wheezing lad was practicing with Estudiantes two evenings a week. He earned a reputation for his fearless attacks on the pitch, which he accomplished by running headlong at the player with the ball, yelling: “Look out, here comes El Furibundo Serna!” (
Furibundo
means furious, and Serna was an abbreviation of his maternal surname.) The war cry led Alberto to give Ernesto a new nickname, Fuser, while Alberto became Míal, for “
mi Alberto
.”
Alberto Granado took a special interest in Ernesto. He noticed that often,
Similar Books
