In the books, peasants and citizens discussed what was the best way of life, sowing frivolity, mockery and sometimes perversity. Thus, the lonely butler in Basque Country Peru Abarka spoke with Maixu Juan barbero in Joan Mogel's 1802 novel, and in 1888 descending through Olheta under the pen of Juana Adame. They guaranteed honor, greatness, epicity, the honesty of being baserritarra, idealized, Euskaldun and faith as central axes. Centuries later, the peasants threw themselves over the cities, sowing hunger in their lands and shining the wax of the so-called coins of fixed posts, all in the name of progress or progress. Dare the city with the cheap arms of small farmers so that companies remind us that the first receivers of machines, appliances, chemical spills and kitchen furniture were the ones of the campaigns.
From time to time, on Sundays, I am also a simple citizen, I disagree with my brothers. I hear your conservation fatigue, and I offer you easy exits, but I never get to convince you all. They no longer speak of faith, of purity, especially of girls, or of gigantism of walking glued to the earth, but of the generous fertility of the areas, of the cold profitability, of the price sacrificed of profits, of the age of the ancient Greek. They change their vocabulary. Also because, despite living in the farmhouse, they have in the corners of their head the same demands at the level of valses, ambitions and social. However, we are far from the moral paths that Piarres Arradoie would tear apart in 1955 in Kattalin for young farmers.
One of the brothers always tells me when it comes to coffee: if you, the citizens, buy our crops directly, we would be more preferable here. Yes, of course. He humiliated his forehead, as if he were guilty of the distress of children called spicy worms, embarrassed that he could eat, drink, daily bread, buy it, as cheaply as possible, in the supermarket. That is my point. Of course, the worker does not earn as much as the head of CAC40. A farmer who works under the measure of poverty does not realize the harsh situation of the workers and the unemployed, otherwise he would show them more solidarity. The habit of farmers to regard the citizen as a mere slimmer and to reduce it instead of as such is old.
That's why siblings are right. Perhaps an unmeasured result would ensure their economic level directly and a little more charitable to the farmer. We live in haste, devouring poison without realizing it, already knowing the disgusting viandas that we clap, and despising ourselves from the carbon air, despising those who came from the remotest corner of the world. We don't have time, moreover, to reflect on what and how we grow when we quickly get back from work to shops. And a pending question. Is the biological path proposed to me by my brothers slower than the industrial path? I know he uses little ghosts and ears, but his neighbors ... I see them scattered in the marshes with tractors of the greatest kind, as the Americans throw down the napalma of Vietnam, decisively, to the point of questioning the complement, to start theirs propio.El. Finger smacks at the end, because we can do something in the mosque, which the spirit of
Peru Abarka continues to fly among us, like that of Harlouxet of the ELB.