Spanish Stories

    B1Moderate · 7 min read · 747 words

    La voz en la cocina

    The Voice in the Kitchen

    A retired widower in the Ecuadorian Andes reluctantly starts using the voice-activated speaker his granddaughter mailed him, and finds it's easier to call her than to say the apology he owes.

    Topics

    • family
    • technology
    • aging
    • reconciliation

    Tap or hover any underlined word for its English meaning.

    Listen to the story

    Learner-paced · Spanish

    What you'll encounter

    Grammar
    Preterite and imperfect narration, Pluperfect for backstory (había ido, había dicho, se había vuelto), Subjunctive after "sin que" (sin que nadie se lo hubiera enseñado, sin que él dijera una palabra en contra), Reported speech within family dialogue
    Vocabulary
    Everyday technology (altavoz, comando de voz), Family conflict and reconciliation, Idioms of emotion (deshecho por la pérdida, tomarle cariño a algo)
    Language skills
    Recognizing an indirect apology, Following backstory revealed through flashback, Understanding how a daily routine can carry an emotional arc

    Efraín tenía setenta y cuatro años y vivía solo en Cotacachi desde hacía dos, desde que Mercedes murió. Sus días tenían una rutina que a él le gustaba llamar «orden»: regar las plantas del patio a las siete, escuchar la radio mientras desayunaba y, por las tardes, sentarse en el mismo sillón a ver el volcán Cotacachi cambiar de color con la luz. , y así, decía, estaba bien.

    Show English
    Efraín was seventy-four years old and had lived alone in Cotacachi for two years, ever since Mercedes died. His days had a routine he liked to call "order": watering the patio plants at seven, listening to the radio over breakfast, and in the afternoons, sitting in the same armchair to watch the Cotacachi volcano change color in the light. He didn't have too much or too little to do, and that, he said, suited him fine.

    Un martes llegó un paquete a nombre suyo, enviado desde Quito. Dentro había una especie de altavoz redondo, negro, con una nota escrita a mano: «Abuelo, esto te va a gustar, aunque al principio no lo creas. Solo tienes que hablarle. Con cariño, Valentina.» Efraín lo miró con desconfianza, como si fuera un animal desconocido, y lo dejó sobre la mesa de la cocina durante una semana entera sin abrir la caja. «No voy a hablarle a una caja negra», le dijo a su vecina Rosaura cuando ella le preguntó por el paquete. «Ya bastante hablo solo.»

    Show English
    One Tuesday a package arrived addressed to him, sent from Quito. Inside was a kind of round, black speaker, with a handwritten note: "Grandpa, you're going to like this, even if you don't believe it at first. You just have to talk to it. With love, Valentina." Efraín looked at it with suspicion, as if it were some unfamiliar animal, and left it on the kitchen table for an entire week without opening the box. "I'm not going to talk to a black box," he told his neighbor Rosaura when she asked about the package. "I already talk to myself enough as it is."

    La verdad, aunque Efraín no se la contaba a nadie, era más complicada. Meses después de que Mercedes muriera, Valentina había ido a pasar unos días con él, preocupada, insistiendo en organizarle la casa, revisarle las medicinas, llamarlo todos los días. Una tarde, cansado y todavía , Efraín le había dicho algo que después lamentó: «Vete a tu vida, Valentina, que yo no necesito que nadie me cuide.» Ella se fue esa misma semana, dolida, y desde entonces las llamadas entre los dos se habían vuelto cortas, espaciadas, incómodas, como si ninguno de los dos supiera bien qué decirle al otro.

    Show English
    The truth, though Efraín told it to no one, was more complicated. Months after Mercedes died, Valentina had come to spend a few days with him, worried, insisting on organizing the house, checking his medications, calling him every day. One afternoon, exhausted and still undone by the loss, Efraín had said something he later regretted: "Go live your life, Valentina, I don't need anyone taking care of me." She left that same week, hurt, and ever since, the calls between them had become short, spaced out, awkward, as if neither of them quite knew what to say to the other anymore.

    Fue Rosaura quien finalmente convenció a Efraín de sacar el altavoz de la caja, y quien le pidió a su nieto que le enseñara a usarlo. El muchacho, de unos catorce años, lo configuró en diez minutos y le mostró un solo comando: «Solo dígale “llama a Valentina”, don Efraín, y listo.» Efraín, todavía escéptico, esperó a que el chico se fuera para probarlo a solas.

    Show English
    It was Rosaura who finally convinced Efraín to take the speaker out of the box, and who asked her grandson to teach him how to use it. The boy, about fourteen, set it up in ten minutes and showed him a single command: "Just say 'call Valentina,' don Efraín, and that's it." Efraín, still skeptical, waited for the boy to leave before trying it alone.

    «Llama a Valentina», dijo, casi en voz baja, sintiéndose ridículo. Segundos después, el teléfono de Valentina sonó en Quito, y su voz salió por el altavoz de la cocina, clara, sorprendida. «¿Abuelo? ¿Cómo aprendiste a hacer esto?» Hablaron quince minutos, más de lo que habían hablado en meses, mientras él, con las manos libres, seguía regando sus plantas.

    Show English
    "Call Valentina," he said, almost under his breath, feeling ridiculous. Seconds later, Valentina's phone rang in Quito, and her voice came out of the kitchen speaker, clear, surprised. "Grandpa? How did you learn to do this?" They talked for fifteen minutes, more than they'd talked in months, while he, hands free, kept right on watering his plants.

    Con el tiempo, Efraín le fue al aparato, aunque jamás lo habría admitido en voz alta. Le pedía canciones de viejos, le preguntaba si iba a llover, y una vez, sin que nadie se lo hubiera enseñado, intentó pedirle que le contara un chiste, y se rió solo en la cocina cuando el chiste resultó ser malísimo. Pero, sobre todo, cada tarde, a la misma hora en que antes escuchaba la radio, ahora decía «llama a Valentina» y hablaba con ella mientras regaba el patio, sin darse cuenta de que la conversación se había vuelto costumbre.

    Show English
    Over time, Efraín grew fond of the device, though he would never have admitted it out loud. He'd ask it for old Ecuadorian pasillo songs, ask whether it was going to rain, and once, without anyone having taught him to, tried asking it to tell him a joke, and laughed alone in the kitchen when the joke turned out to be terrible. But above all, every afternoon, at the same hour he used to listen to the radio, he now said "call Valentina" and talked to her while he watered the patio, without noticing that the conversation had become a habit.

    Una tarde de octubre, sin embargo, Efraín no llamó. Valentina esperó media hora, después una hora, y al ver que él tampoco contestaba sus llamadas, sintió que el corazón se le apretaba. Llamó a Rosaura, quien corrió a la casa y encontró a Efraín en el suelo del patio, mareado, con la manguera todavía en la mano; se había levantado demasiado rápido y había perdido el equilibrio. No fue grave, pero pasó la noche en observación en el hospital de Otavalo, y Valentina tomó el primer bus desde Quito esa misma noche.

    Show English
    One October afternoon, however, Efraín didn't call. Valentina waited half an hour, then an hour, and when she saw he wasn't answering her calls either, she felt her heart tighten. She called Rosaura, who ran to the house and found Efraín on the patio floor, dizzy, the hose still in his hand; he'd stood up too fast and lost his balance. It wasn't serious, but he spent the night under observation at the hospital in Otavalo, and Valentina caught the first bus from Quito that same night.

    Se quedó tres días cuidándolo, esta vez sin que él dijera una palabra en contra. La última noche, mientras ella preparaba té en la cocina, Efraín le dijo, sin mirarla directamente, que sentía mucho lo que le había dicho aquella tarde, hacía dos años. «Estaba enojado con el mundo, no contigo», le explicó. Valentina no dijo nada; solo le puso una mano en el hombro y siguió sirviendo el té.

    Show English
    She stayed three days taking care of him, this time without him saying a single word against it. On the last night, while she made tea in the kitchen, Efraín told her, without looking at her directly, that he was sorry for what he'd said that afternoon, two years ago. "I was angry at the world, not at you," he explained. Valentina didn't say anything; she just put a hand on his shoulder and kept pouring the tea.

    Hoy, meses después, Efraín sigue llamando a Valentina todas las tardes, a la misma hora, mientras riega las plantas. Y cuando algún vecino en el mercado se burla de él por «hablarle a una máquina», él contesta, muy serio, que esa máquina le devolvió a su nieta, y que .

    Show English
    Today, months later, Efraín still calls Valentina every afternoon, at the same hour, while he waters the plants. And when some neighbor at the market teases him about "talking to a machine," he answers, quite seriously, that the machine gave him his granddaughter back, and that they should be so lucky as to have one that useful.
    Show English translation

    Efraín was seventy-four years old and had lived alone in Cotacachi for two years, ever since Mercedes died. His days had a routine he liked to call "order": watering the patio plants at seven, listening to the radio over breakfast, and in the afternoons, sitting in the same armchair to watch the Cotacachi volcano change color in the light. He didn't have too much or too little to do, and that, he said, suited him fine.

    One Tuesday a package arrived addressed to him, sent from Quito. Inside was a kind of round, black speaker, with a handwritten note: "Grandpa, you're going to like this, even if you don't believe it at first. You just have to talk to it. With love, Valentina." Efraín looked at it with suspicion, as if it were some unfamiliar animal, and left it on the kitchen table for an entire week without opening the box. "I'm not going to talk to a black box," he told his neighbor Rosaura when she asked about the package. "I already talk to myself enough as it is."

    The truth, though Efraín told it to no one, was more complicated. Months after Mercedes died, Valentina had come to spend a few days with him, worried, insisting on organizing the house, checking his medications, calling him every day. One afternoon, exhausted and still undone by the loss, Efraín had said something he later regretted: "Go live your life, Valentina, I don't need anyone taking care of me." She left that same week, hurt, and ever since, the calls between them had become short, spaced out, awkward, as if neither of them quite knew what to say to the other anymore.

    It was Rosaura who finally convinced Efraín to take the speaker out of the box, and who asked her grandson to teach him how to use it. The boy, about fourteen, set it up in ten minutes and showed him a single command: "Just say 'call Valentina,' don Efraín, and that's it." Efraín, still skeptical, waited for the boy to leave before trying it alone.

    "Call Valentina," he said, almost under his breath, feeling ridiculous. Seconds later, Valentina's phone rang in Quito, and her voice came out of the kitchen speaker, clear, surprised. "Grandpa? How did you learn to do this?" They talked for fifteen minutes, more than they'd talked in months, while he, hands free, kept right on watering his plants.

    Over time, Efraín grew fond of the device, though he would never have admitted it out loud. He'd ask it for old Ecuadorian pasillo songs, ask whether it was going to rain, and once, without anyone having taught him to, tried asking it to tell him a joke, and laughed alone in the kitchen when the joke turned out to be terrible. But above all, every afternoon, at the same hour he used to listen to the radio, he now said "call Valentina" and talked to her while he watered the patio, without noticing that the conversation had become a habit.

    One October afternoon, however, Efraín didn't call. Valentina waited half an hour, then an hour, and when she saw he wasn't answering her calls either, she felt her heart tighten. She called Rosaura, who ran to the house and found Efraín on the patio floor, dizzy, the hose still in his hand; he'd stood up too fast and lost his balance. It wasn't serious, but he spent the night under observation at the hospital in Otavalo, and Valentina caught the first bus from Quito that same night.

    She stayed three days taking care of him, this time without him saying a single word against it. On the last night, while she made tea in the kitchen, Efraín told her, without looking at her directly, that he was sorry for what he'd said that afternoon, two years ago. "I was angry at the world, not at you," he explained. Valentina didn't say anything; she just put a hand on his shoulder and kept pouring the tea.

    Today, months later, Efraín still calls Valentina every afternoon, at the same hour, while he waters the plants. And when some neighbor at the market teases him about "talking to a machine," he answers, quite seriously, that the machine gave him his granddaughter back, and that they should be so lucky as to have one that useful.

    Vocabulary in this story

    No le sobraban ni le faltaban cosas que hacer
    he had neither too much nor too little to do, it suited him just right
    deshecho por la pérdida
    undone, devastated by the loss
    tomando cariño
    growing fond of
    pasillos ecuatorianos
    pasillo, a traditional Ecuadorian musical genre
    ya quisieran ellos tener una tan útil
    they should be so lucky as to have one that useful
    Comprensión(check what you understood)

    Answer a few quick questions about the story. This is just for you: there's no account or score saved.

    1. ¿Por qué vive solo Efraín en Cotacachi?
    2. ¿Por qué se niega Efraín, al principio, a usar el altavoz que le envía Valentina?
    3. ¿Qué le dijo Efraín a Valentina que dañó la relación entre los dos?
    4. ¿Cómo se da cuenta Valentina de que algo le pasó a su abuelo?
    5. ¿Cómo cambia la actitud de Efraín hacia el altavoz a lo largo de la historia?