Nostalgia and the Absence of Time

Almost every entry that I’ve posted here has been about conflicts and antagonism within my beloved Argentina. This entry will have nothing to do with that. As you will witness, this post will involve elements of childhood, senses, emotions and feelings.

I believe that time doesn’t really exist. It is only a ruler that we have in order to measure how things change from one state to another.

Some days ago, I had to look for information about a tribe called Shuar and while I was reading about their customs and music, a melody interrupted my concentration. At that moment I didn’t know why The Curse of Monkey Island game’s main theme started to play in my head, but then I realized that I had associated the tribe with the music, somehow. I searched for the song on youtube, and when I scrolled down there were comments of people discussing about the genres of the tune. The song is inspired by Peruvian music; in fact, it is calypso, reggae, Peruvian cross. Shuar people live in the triple boarder of Peru, Ecuador and Columbia, which means that there is something of a coincidence –or not. The thing is that I was beautifully flooded by a nostalgic feeling that brought bittersweet tears to my eyes.

(Click here to listen to The Curse of Monkey Island main theme)

I have to admit that my childhood was fifty percent outside, playing with my neighbors and living fictitious and real adventures, but it was also fifty percent inside, spending time with my family, playing with my toys and my videogames. And as I can recall with warts and all my quests outside, I can also do it with my claustrophilic experiences and how happy I was back then. I know that I’m part of a generation in the middle of outdoor and indoor fun: part nature and part technology. So the things that generate nostalgia in me are varied and, let’s say, weird.

The Curse of Monkey Island (1997) is a point-and-click video game for Windows, developed by LucasArts, a company founded by George Lucas (Star Wars, Indiana Jones, etc.). It is a graphic adventure about a pirate Guybrush Threepwood, a wannabe pirate, who has to rescue his girlfriend Elaine from zombie pirate LeChuck. I was –and I AM– in love with this game! I remember that my dad bought it to me in the store where we always rented VHSs. I was 8 or 9 years old and this video game changed my life. I spent hours and hours in the computer trying to figure out the diverse, amusing and difficult puzzles that the game presented. My sister would help me with some of them but I finished the game almost on my own. The music was one of the main attractions that the game presented. Each scenario was decorated with beautiful shiny colors and had its own music that transported me to those marvelous places.

(Here's the complete original soundtrack)

Some captures of the game...

(Here's the HILARIOUS introduction of the game, translated into spanish, just like I used to have it)

Being on the computer on winter was one of my favorite habits. I would sit down in front of the screen for hours while my grandma prepared me some hot chocolate with cookies. I can remember the weird but pleasant smell that the living room heater expelled and impregnated the juxtaposed library, where the computer was –and still is. Before my dad bought the computer, at the age of 5 or 6, I spent hours reading –or seeing the pictures of– my mom’s history, archeology, art and social science thick books. My dad played video games with me until it was late in the night, even when my mom and grandma weren’t OK with it. My dad was the one to introduce me to the world of technology despite of him being an amateur in the subject. Consequently, we both learned how to use the computer at the same time. They say that you learn messing up and that’s exactly how we did it. We both laughed a lot when we play and when we broke the PC. That’s why this particular room has always meant a lot to me.

Years have passed –although I don’t feel they have–, the old computer is gone and was replaced by a new one in 2009, and now it’s 2016 and I’m still here writing this in the same room –and yes, it’s late in the night. I still live with my family but we’ve lost two members. Grandma left us in 2000 –yeah, the year of the apocalypses– while my dad paradoxically developed a particular disease that would made him agonize for 3 long years. Of course that life without them has never been the same but the life they shared with us resides inside and outside.

Why do I believe that time doesn’t exist? Because everything seems like it was yesterday or even this morning. Things, people always change in some way, but there’s always an essence that remains. I can still feel my cheerful dad, my quiet grandma and everything I lived twenty years ago like it was very recent. A familiar perfume, a screech of a bed or a chair, a melody that comes from nothing straight to your head seem to be some of the reminders that people –those you would die for to meet again–,things and experiences will never leave you. Like friendly –and sometimes obstinate– ghosts howling intermittently around in your house, they will escort you until the end. They never were, they ARE here with you and, fortunately, they’ll never leave.

–Jorge Vallejos