Guayabo Cuartel

Fernando is a strong man. Tall and solid like the grey boulders behind us. Dressed all in brown from head to toe, with dark brown waterproof boots, and a straw hat the shape of a cowboy hat but with frayed edges. Years of sweat has stained the straw a rich deep brown. He wears the earth he works on. “Pedro Yáñez, an ancestor of mine who owned this property back in the 19th Century, had slaves. Four or five women and a couple of men. The property was pretty much the same, maybe bigger, going down to the road. I think he had some sugar down in the flat lands and tobacco up here. Two of his men took off one day and became cimarrones together….We caught him, though, and chained him to a well down below. Do you mention Pedro Yáñez in your story?” he asks us.”