19 abr 2012

L'home que foi gochu*



* The man who was pig



Rural Asturian contemporary narration










Alex Álvarez was a neighbor of Gijón, Spain: a small city placed on the northern shore, almost fallen off the peninsular surface into the ocean, like a silvery drop of mayonnaise falling from the border of a plate. Once or twice a year the city used to be invaded by marine cyclopes, giant creatures that emerged from the sea, and entered the town, crushing cars and buildings under their huge feet.

These brutal invasions often occured in January and July, and it happened during millenniums, so the population was used to this, walking with indifferent fastidiousness among the cyclopes' feet. The invasions ended in 2.002, thanks to a decree of the E.U. that regulated the activities of the mythological creatures in the Eurozone, according to which, cyclopes, giants, ogres, cuélebres, harpies, gryphons, gargoyles, chimeras, hydras and centaurs were deprived of their Eurocitizenship, and forced to stay in their respective islands and/or peninsulas, they received an economic compensation of 400,001 € per tribe, though.

But fuck: we were talking about Alex Álvarez, and about his tranquil life in Xixón, life that mostly consisted of his shop, ran by himself, store in which he sold a wide variety of pork products, "la meyor de to-les charcuteríes d'Asturies", as himself called his store, because Alex was born in the countryside, and he spoke in the regional dialect

The shop was open Mondays to Saturdays, in the morning (9 AM-1 PM), and it was specialized in any kind of Xamón ibéricu, the famous Iberian pork fed with nuts, grease and cork, which was brought from the southern region of Extremadura, the insanely expensive meat of black Iberian pig.


Alex exposed the jamones hanging at his store, like a museum, all them minutely catalogued according to their pedigree, the prizes that the breeder received while the beast still was alive, the quantity of nut ingested by each animal, its aroma, color, percentage of oleic acid, size and the texture of the piece.
For the European connoisseur all this is a small art, and his store was often visited by tourists, especially from France and the UK, tourists that came walking, in a sort of gastronomic ritual, and also some from Germany, because the Germans want to be in everything.


His passion for the ham was reflected in his personal diet, which consisted almost exclusively of pork, prepared by himself in 1.000 different forms:
xamón al fornu con pataques, agnolottis de pavita y xamón, xamón fritu, croquetes de pataca con xamón, ensalada de tomate y oriéganu con xamón, güevos rellenos con xamón ibéricu, xamón a l'oporto, xamón al vermouth, llombu de gochu y xamón ibéricu, pan de xamón, ravioles de xamón, truches frites con xamón, and many, many more, and even a recipe to prepare ice cream of pork.


This Alex madness for the pork was perfectly known by his mother, Sisebuta Álvarez, a nice, 70-year old woman that worked as miner in his youth, at the iron mines of Asturias...notwithstanding she noted that, which always was a simple habit, started turning into a porcine fever, an insane obsession for Alex Álvarez, who progressively was abandoning any other aliment to supplement his pork ingestion

first he abandoned legumes to accompany the pork, then any sort of vegetable was banned from his diet, then the milk, eggs and any cereal, then fruits, and also any meat that wasn't pork disappeared from his table definitely.
The wine was substituted by fermented pig's blood, the coffee for breakfast was replaced by juice of pig's eye, and finally the bread was substituted by baked pig's grease.


Alarmed, his mother tried to make him see sense and listen to reason, with a permanent but serene recommendation:

"Alex, si nun paras de comer tanto gochu, te vas convertir en gochu.
Les tos célules, pensamientu y razón van cegase, y el gochu va ocupar el to llugar.
Esto nun ye un chiste fíu mio, yo conozo una vecina de Cangas, que el so fíu volvióse gochu, yo mesma lo ví al probe, con estos güeyos, yo mesma lo ví corriendo desnudu al traviés del monte ¿y yera eso un fíu? Non, yera un gochu.
La probe madre tuvo que llamar a una bruxa de Llanes, que-y fixo tragar una pócima a encomalo, y asina lo salvo del Infiernu."

(Alex, if you keep eating so much pork, pork you'll become.
Your cells, thought and reason will go blind, and the pork will take your place.
This is not a joke my son, I know a neighbor of mine from Cangas del Narcea, that her son became pork, I myself saw the poor, with these eyes, I myself saw him running naked through the woods and: was that a son? No, it was a pig.
The poor mother had to call a witch of Llanes, who made him swallow a potion by force, and thus saved him from Hell.)




Alex laughed out loud at these extravagant rural stories of his mother like a Neolithic caveman, his laughter was so loud that made the hanging jamones tremble, while prepared another bocata, consisting exclusively of 5 different varieties of ham, and more ham.
Needless to say that Alex Álvarez spent his hours at the store eating constantly.


As of June of 2.009, his general appearance changed, his face especially, looked abnormally round, reddish and bright, and also his voice was turning into an indistinct growl.
One by one, the customers abandoned the Alex store gradually, scared for his appearance that, back in July of 2.010 had lost -almost- any human trace.

Suddenly, somewhere during January or February of 2.011, the store stayed permanently closed
Alex Álvarez wasn't seen anymore, anywhere

until one Monday of March of 2.012, in the morning:



an enormous biped pig dressed in a grey suit appeared walking ceremoniously by the centre of Gijón, eating ceremoniously a piece of raw pig, and talking to any stranger that passed by
it was Alex Álvarez, many recognized him
his voice was a mixture of rural dialect, growls and agglutinative spasms

"Que nun soi un gochu, que soi un home, xingar! Un home, non un gochu!"

Scared with this grotesque scene, some people escaped running
four women had faints, and 15 schoolgirls suffered hysterical attacks marked by exhibitionist compulsion and exposure of their genitals
someone called 112, and soon the paramedics arrived, and the police

12 police offficers finally surrounded and subdued the porcine humanity of Alex Álvarez with American violence: the offfender was handcufffed and transported to the nearest comisaría, all this happpened with great scandal and commotion.


After 24 hours in jail, and despite the desperate supplications of his mother, Alex Álvarez was transported -handcuffed- to the Royal Academy of Veterinary Sciences, institution where The Science would diagnose this strange case.

The director of the institute, Prof. Paco Gere, examined Alex Álvarez personally

his anatomy was studied minutely during 5 days, every detail was analyzed with digital technology:

his blood

sperm

osseous structure

neuronal system

vision

audition

saliva and gastric system

tongue, breath, teeth and anal tract

muscles, skin and adipose tissue

cerebral structure and operation

fingerprints

DNA

feet, hands, nails, eyelashes, pores, mucosity, tears, urine, crap and pilose follicles

the Alex farts and burps were bottled and carefully investigated, nothing can escape from the science! AH! AH!



Finally, when all the studies were completed, the Prof. Gere offered a conference, and annnounced that, if the science cannot explain what Alex Álvarez is, then Alex Álvarez doesn't exist, and said this, Gere resigned and escaped to Tierra del Fuego on bicycle.


Alex Álvarez was released one day later, and walking on his two porcine legs, he returned home, where his self-abnegating mother prepared some cowpie, the poor mother begged him to eat, and Alex Álvarez ate reluctantly this non-porcine meal, while watching the RTPA.

The next morning, the Alex mother telephoned a witch of the zone, Ovieda Garcha, a woman who signed a pact with Satan when she was 5 years old, and current superintendent of the Syndicate of Asturian Witches.

The thin sorcière all in black, she arrived riding a Zanella scooter, Alex Álvarez got panicked when he saw the magicienne, and begged his mother to help him
some confusing words escaped from his snout with hysterically porcine tone:

"Pero madre, que ye esta mierda! Ye una bruxa!"

Immutable, the hex stracted her magic wand from her vagina, and with 4 movements in the air...

...and so...
...and so...
...and so...she paralyzed Alex completely, whose porcine anatomy stayed petrified in the middle of the living room, with his little piggish eyes fixed on the wall with insane expression.

Like a black spider, the witch extracted a small bottle full of a green and viscose potion from her cunt, and jumped over the hoggish and paralyzed body of Alex Álvarez, flying in the aïr.
Immediately and still floating in the aïr, the necromancer downloaded the thick potion into the Alex mouth, while pronouncing some hermetic formulas with horrid voice

these satanic mantras consisted of insults, obscene screams and laughter, that the mage recited nervously flying non-stop around Alex Álvarez.

To finish the rite, and still floating in the aïr, the witch urinated and defecated on the Alex head, while pronounced more obscenities in 101 idioms.


Amazingly, Alex Álvarez recovered his human nature in seconds

the witch, who also was a scientist, recommended Alex to never eat a piece of pork again, because the pork is "the most influential animal in the human bloodstream", when ingested, and because "the blood of them both, becomes one only blood" (?)


The mother of Alex Álvarez was extremely glad, because the sorceress saved his son from the flames of Hell, and paid the mage 1,001 € for her job

the witch said good evening respectfully, because the exorcism took many hours, mounted her Zanella, and ran away flying across the sky of Xixón, like a horryble summer locust.




Alleviated and relieved, like someone that wakes up from a heavy nyghtmare, Alex Álvarez walked to the kitchen, humming KISS's "King of the night time world", while opened the fridge, to prepare a ham sandwich.





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