{"id":25029,"date":"2025-10-20T08:20:18","date_gmt":"2025-10-20T05:20:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/?p=25029"},"modified":"2025-10-20T08:20:18","modified_gmt":"2025-10-20T05:20:18","slug":"literadura-nr-37-13","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/?p=25029","title":{"rendered":"Literadura nr. 37 (13)"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong>Ramona M\u00dcLLER<\/strong><br \/>\n<a href=\"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/10\/ramona-muller-e1602496194719.jpg\" data-rel=\"lightbox-image-0\" data-rl_title=\"\" data-rl_caption=\"\" title=\"\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-src=\"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/10\/ramona-muller-e1602496194719.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"301\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11300 lazyload\" src=\"data:image\/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAAAAACH5BAEKAAEALAAAAAABAAEAAAICTAEAOw==\" style=\"--smush-placeholder-width: 300px; --smush-placeholder-aspect-ratio: 300\/301;\" \/><noscript><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/10\/ramona-muller-e1602496194719.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"301\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11300\" \/><\/noscript><\/a><\/p>\n<p><strong>8.10.2024<br \/>\nLacul Humantay, Peru <\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong>Durere, legend\u0103 \u0219i frumuse\u021be \u00een acela\u0219i rucsac<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>    Este 3:30 diminea\u021ba. \u00centunericul mai st\u0103ruie pe trotuare. Rozalindion, trolerul meu roz \u0219i aristocrat, ne prive\u0219te m\u00e2ndru \u0219i t\u0103cut. R\u0103m\u00e2ne acas\u0103 s\u0103 vegheze scena goal\u0103. \u00cei arunc o ultim\u0103 privire complice, iar el pare s\u0103-mi spun\u0103: Merge\u021bi voi, eu \u021bin frontul aici. \u0218oferul adun\u0103 alte umbre somnoroase de pe marginea drumului, iar ghidul apare abia mai t\u00e2rziu, \u00eenso\u021bit de doi americani adormi\u021bi \u0219i ei. \u00centre dou\u0103 hurduc\u0103turi, adormim. Str\u0103batem ora\u0219ul pe str\u0103zi pustii. \u00cen urma noastr\u0103 o lini\u0219te \u00eentunecat\u0103.<br \/>\n     Dup\u0103 dou\u0103 ore, cobor\u00e2m \u00een Mollepata pentru micul dejun. La 2.810 metri, copiii joac\u0103 fotbal pe o p\u0103\u0219une. C\u00e2\u021biva turi\u0219ti, cu entuziasm matinal, se al\u0103tur\u0103. R\u00e2sete, mingi \u0219utate printre rucsacuri \u0219i o arom\u0103 \u00eembietoare de cafea. Ne aprovizion\u0103m cu ap\u0103, gust\u0103ri \u0219i curaj.<br \/>\n    Drumul spre Soraypampa urc\u0103 \u00eencet, printre sate ce par lipite de coline \u2013 Poroy (3.540 m), Izcuchaca (2.939 m), Limatambo (2.544 m). Timpul curge aici dup\u0103 o alt\u0103 logic\u0103, poate una mineral\u0103. Ajungem la Soraypampa (3.900  m), unde aerul trebuie inhalat cu respect. \u00cen fa\u021b\u0103, se ridic\u0103 mun\u021bii Apu Salkantay (6.230 m) \u0219i Humantay (5.250 m). Zeii t\u0103r\u00e2mului de ghea\u021b\u0103. La Casa Mollechayoq, ne \u00eent\u00e2mpin\u0103 fe\u021be de mas\u0103 viu colorate \u0219i ceai de coca \u00een ce\u0219cu\u021be de ceramic\u0103. Totul pare o repeti\u021bie general\u0103 pentru un vis andin.<\/p>\n<p>    <strong>Calul filosof \u0219i Cleopatra r\u0103sturnat\u0103 din Anzi<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>\u00cenchiriem doi cai \u2013 190 de soles \u2013 \u0219i urc\u0103m. Arrieros, echipa\u021bi cu sta\u021bii de emisie-recep\u021bie \u0219i o ierarhie demn\u0103 de o mic\u0103 armat\u0103, ne ofer\u0103 \u0219i c\u0103\u0219ti de protec\u021bie. Arrieros sunt personaje emblematice ale Anzilor sud-americani, aproape legende vii. Sunt c\u0103l\u0103uzele \u0219i transportatorii tradi\u021bionali, oamenii care str\u0103bat mun\u021bii \u00eempreun\u0103 cu cat\u00e2rii sau m\u0103garii lor, duc\u00e2nd pe drumuri abrupte provizii, m\u0103rfuri sau chiar pove\u0219ti. \u00cei recuno\u0219ti de departe: poncho-urile groase, p\u0103l\u0103riile cu boruri largi, fe\u021bele arse de soare \u0219i privirea ascu\u021bit\u0103 a celor care citesc muntele \u0219i cu ochii \u00eenchi\u0219i. Pa\u0219ii lor sunt siguri, iar animalele \u00eei urmeaz\u0103 \u00eentr-un ritm aproape mistic, de parc\u0103 \u00eentre ei ar exista o \u00een\u021belegere veche de secole. ei sunt liantul dintre sate izolate, mesageri ai ve\u0219tilor \u0219i martori ai timpului. C\u00e2ntecele lor, fluieratul cu care \u00ee\u0219i ghideaz\u0103 cat\u00e2rii \u0219i glumele spuse pe drum fac parte din coloana sonor\u0103 a Anzilor.<br \/>\n    Eu primesc un cal maro, Dimi pe cel negru. B\u0103iatul ce ne \u00eenso\u021be\u0219te  strune\u0219te doar calul lui Dimi. Al meu e un filosof: refuz\u0103 autoritatea, se abate de la potec\u0103, gust\u0103 din iarb\u0103 cu o non\u0219alan\u021b\u0103 zen. Simt c\u0103 nu m\u0103 iube\u0219te. Sau poate doar m\u0103 ignor\u0103, nu sunt deloc \u00een largul meu. Concluzionez c\u0103 suntem \u00eentr-un dialog surd. El cu g\u00e2ndurile lui, eu cu ale mele, am\u00e2ndoi str\u0103ini unul de altul. Eu c\u0103lare, el pe drum.<br \/>\n    Drumul \u0219erpuie\u0219te prin mun\u021bii seme\u021bi, printre v\u00e2rfuri care sfideaz\u0103 cerul. Clo\u0219uri de ghea\u021b\u0103 p\u0103zesc taina eternit\u0103\u021bii geologice. Natura, m\u0103rea\u021b\u0103 \u0219i impasibil\u0103, \u00ee\u0219i poart\u0103 t\u0103cerile nobil. \u00centr-un moment de neaten\u021bie, talpa \u00eemi scap\u0103 din etrier. Calul filosof se opre\u0219te s\u0103 bea ap\u0103, iar eu, f\u0103r\u0103 preaviz, cad. Gravita\u021bia \u00ee\u0219i face treaba cu devotament. M\u0103 trezesc pe pietre, \u00een stil Cleopatra c\u0103zut\u0103 din lectic\u0103, \u0219i anun\u021b, cu un ton teatral: Sunt bine, sunt bine! De\u0219i, \u00een sinea mea, fac inventarul oaselor. Ghidul, cu fa\u021ba unui veterinar aflat la o na\u0219tere complicat\u0103, m\u0103 ajut\u0103 s\u0103 m\u0103 ridic. Continu\u0103m, eu ceva mai bo\u021bit\u0103, dar cu un z\u00e2mbet indecis: asta e povestea de spus la iarn\u0103, l\u00e2ng\u0103 sob\u0103, cu vin fiert \u0219i un public fan. \u0218ifonat\u0103, dar ne\u00eenfr\u00e2nt\u0103. C\u0103ci, nu-i a\u0219a, ce-i o c\u0103z\u0103tur\u0103 pe munte fa\u021b\u0103 de m\u0103re\u021bia Anzilor \u0219i ironia divin\u0103 care te prinde exact c\u00e2nd crezi c\u0103 ai echilibru? M\u0103 urc din nou \u00een \u0219a, cu un aer mai pu\u021bin eroic dec\u00e2t diminea\u021ba. \u00cencerc s\u0103-mi conving corpul c\u0103 nu urmeaz\u0103 o nou\u0103 tortur\u0103, ci o plimbare scenic\u0103 prin paradisul andin. G\u00e2ndul \u00eemi fuge, inevitabil, la poli\u021ba de asigurare \u2013 oare acoper\u0103 \u0219i ego-ul zdrobit? Sau doar oasele vizibile pe radiografie? M\u0103 \u00eentreb \u0219i dac\u0103 nu cumva ar fi fost mai logic ca b\u0103iatul care m\u00e2n\u0103 calul lui Dimi s\u0103-l struneasc\u0103 \u0219i pe al meu. Dar calul meu are alt\u0103 p\u0103rere. El e un spirit liber, un poet al ierbii de margine, prea ad\u00e2ncit \u00een propriile reflec\u021bii ca s\u0103 accepte s\u0103 fie dirijat de cineva. Eu, c\u0103l\u0103re\u021b de ocazie, sunt doar invitat accidental la medita\u021biile lui. <\/p>\n<p><strong>Lacul cu ochi de jad<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>    Lacul Humantay ( 4 200 m) ni se dezv\u0103luie \u00een toat\u0103 splendoarea sa. Ochiul s\u0103u de jad, hipnotic pare s\u0103 adune \u00een el toate dorin\u021bele t\u0103cute ale celor care au urcat p\u00e2n\u0103 aici. Pe mal, o turist\u0103 chinez\u0103 transform\u0103 momentul fotografic \u00eentr-un ritual solemn. Timp de dou\u0103zeci de minute, dac\u0103 nu mai mult, pozeaz\u0103 \u00een fa\u021ba camerei cu expresii variate \u0219i gesturi de balerin\u0103 digital\u0103. \u00cen jur, turi\u0219tii murmur\u0103 vizibil irita\u021bi.  Lacul r\u0103m\u00e2ne impasibil. Este \u00een\u021belept. A v\u0103zut mii de astfel de drame umane.<br \/>\n    De aici, privirea \u00eembr\u0103\u021bi\u0219eaz\u0103 mun\u021bii: Apu Salkantay, falnic \u0219i alb, \u0219i Humantay, abrupt \u0219i \u00eentunecat. Se spune c\u0103 lacul s-a n\u0103scut din lacrimile lui Apu Salkantay, trimise c\u0103tre p\u0103m\u00e2nt din iubire, durere \u0219i generozitate. Al\u021bii vorbesc despre dragostea imposibil\u0103 dintre Salkantay \u0219i zei\u021ba muntoas\u0103 Veronica (cunoscut\u0103 \u0219i ca Wakay Willka) \u2013 doi \u00eendr\u0103gosti\u021bi desp\u0103r\u021bi\u021bi de zei, al c\u0103ror dor a devenit r\u00e2uri \u0219i lacuri. \u00ce\u021bi vine s\u0103 crezi toate legendele aici, unde aerul e rarefiat.<br \/>\nPe traseu, descoperim o surpriz\u0103: un refugiu format din domuri geodezice, comparabile cu ni\u0219te capsule de explorare spa\u021bial\u0103 aterizate printre st\u00e2nci. Platformele din lemn, gr\u0103dinile amenajate cu pietre \u0219i hornurile fumeg\u00e2nde adaug\u0103 o not\u0103 de poezie practic\u0103 \u2013 omul, chiar \u0219i la peste 3.900 de metri, reu\u0219e\u0219te s\u0103 creeze confort f\u0103r\u0103 s\u0103 strice magia muntelui. Oaza noastr\u0103 temporar\u0103 printre uria\u0219i.<br \/>\n    Cobor\u00e2rea \u00eencepe, dar corpul meu are alte planuri. Durerea c\u0103derii de mai devreme prinde glas. De la primele trepte, simt cum totul devine o lupt\u0103: cu pietri\u0219ul, cu panta, cu propriile oase. Pl\u00e2ng. Pl\u00e2ng de durere. M\u0103 simt ca \u00eentr-un test de anduran\u021b\u0103 fizic\u0103 \u0219i psihic\u0103. Picioarele nu mai \u0219tiu s\u0103 fie picioare, iar inima \u00eemi bate haotic. \u00cencerc s\u0103 m\u0103 \u00eencurajez: Prin\u021besa Xena la botul calului, \u00eemi zic printre din\u021bi. Sau, \u0219i mai bine, m\u0103 imaginez un personaj din Hoga\u0219, c\u0103l\u0103re\u021b optimist, dar cu un final de poveste previzibil: \u0218i iat\u0103 c\u0103, \u00eentr-o clipit\u0103, c\u0103l\u0103re\u021bul cel ne\u00eenfricat se prelinge de pe cal ca o cl\u0103tit\u0103 pe tigaie! Durerea \u00ee\u0219i revendic\u0103 drepturile. E ca \u0219i cum cineva mi-a str\u00e2ns trupul \u00eentr-o menghin\u0103 invizibil\u0103. Fiecare pas devine o tortur\u0103 \u00eentr-un peisaj de vis.<br \/>\n    Cobor\u00e2rea asta chinuitoare pare a dura secole.<br \/>\nAjungem la o tarab\u0103. Un porumb fiert \u00eemi ofer\u0103 alinarea aceea copil\u0103reasc\u0103, pe care niciun calmant n-o poate egala. Dimi \u00ee\u0219i descoper\u0103 propriile urme ale b\u0103t\u0103liei: o \u0219a nemiloas\u0103 \u0219i o durere discret\u0103, dar ferm\u0103.<br \/>\n    La \u00eentoarcere, m\u0103 a\u0219ez \u00een microbuz cu o solemnitate de martir pedepsit pe nedrept. Orice zdruncin\u0103tur\u0103 \u2013 \u0219i sunt multe \u2013 mi se \u00eempl\u00e2nt\u0103 direct \u00een coaste. M\u0103 ghemuiesc u\u0219or, \u00eentr-un col\u021b al banchetei, vis\u00e2nd la du\u0219 fierbinte, crem\u0103 antiinflamatoare \u0219i promisiunea etern\u0103: Data viitoare nu mai urc pe cal. Sau dac\u0103 urc, s\u0103 fie de lemn, \u00eentr-un carusel. La farmacie, apel\u0103m la prietenul nostru fidel: aplica\u021bia de traducere.<br \/>\n    Cump\u0103r\u0103m antiinflamatoare \u0219i geluri cu ajutorul unui trio de salvare: telefon, farmacist\u0103 \u0219i mim\u0103. Tast\u0103m, ar\u0103t\u0103m, z\u00e2mbim. Mul\u021bumim zeilor farmaciei moderne \u0219i celor ai mun\u021bilor, \u00een aceea\u0219i rug\u0103!<br \/>\n Este mar\u021bi. Da, din aceea cu trei ceasuri rele. \u0218i totu\u0219i&#8230; ziua asta are ceva magic. O frumuse\u021be brut\u0103, cu lacrimi \u0219i r\u00e2sete, cu mituri \u0219i antiinflamatoare. O zi tr\u0103it\u0103 cu totul. O zi care merit\u0103 fiecare pas dureros.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Ramona M\u00dcLLER 8.10.2024 Lacul Humantay, Peru Durere, legend\u0103 \u0219i frumuse\u021be \u00een acela\u0219i rucsac Este 3:30 diminea\u021ba. \u00centunericul mai st\u0103ruie pe<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":17,"featured_media":24966,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"colormag_page_container_layout":"default_layout","colormag_page_sidebar_layout":"default_layout","_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"video_url":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7,329],"tags":[],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/25029"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/17"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=25029"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/25029\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":25030,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/25029\/revisions\/25030"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/24966"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=25029"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=25029"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=25029"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}