Chapter 1: Nostalgic Visits

I fondly remember how, at the beginning of the 1980s in Chile, life for Grandpa Julio was far from simple. He would occasionally make the trip from San Fernando, only a short distance from Rancagua, to spend weekends with us. Dressed in his traditional Chilean straw hat known as a chupalla, huaso trousers, and flamboyant suspenders from the '70s, he would proudly wear a crisp white shirt paired with a black-striped suit. He also carried a poncho de Huaso and a leather suitcase that held his toothbrush, a couple of extra pants, socks, two shirts, and an additional pair of shoes—just in case the ones he wore chose to fail him.

Each week, I'd eagerly await his arrival at the train station. He adored the train ride, which took only an hour. Grandpa preferred to sit by the window, relishing the gentle rocking motion and the rhythmic clattering of the wheels on the tracks. From that vantage point, he could admire the passing trees, plants, and the occasional glimpse of the sky as the train jostled.

Since my Aunt Coto lived close to the station, he never opted for a car ride. He was as stubborn as they come, yet I never witnessed him in a foul mood. He enjoyed leisurely strolls, strutting down the street like folks did back in the 30s and 40s—a charm that seems to have faded over time.

His stubbornness could likely be attributed to his Basque heritage. His spirit was infectious: a man guided by his own thoughts, a world I occasionally entered during my visits to his home. He was always lively and laid-back. Oh, how he adored buttery, crunchy toast. I can still vividly recall those Chilean marraquetas, a delicacy that simply cannot be found elsewhere. It's akin to comparing France's cuisine to anything else. And don't even get me started on the delights of Chilean wine, empanadas, sopaipillas, and the Chilean Berlin.

I also remember his audacity, especially when it came to using the bathroom. That old stubborn man never bothered to close the door. Even at eighty, he was as strong as an ox. The countryside had undoubtedly blessed him with good health, but it had not taught him the importance of closing doors.

One day, my Aunt Coto became furious when his pants slipped down just as he was using the bathroom. If anyone passed by, they’d catch a glimpse of his exposed backside. I couldn’t resist teasing him, chanting, "Wrinkled butt, wrinkled butt, wrinkled butt!" at the top of my lungs. From across the room, my aunt reprimanded me to stop and sternly called out to Grandpa, "Sir, close that door!" Yet, I could see a faint smile creeping onto her face.

I nearly cried from laughter…

Rancagua, Chile 1980s

Chapter 2: The Essence of Grandpa's Health

The first video explores the theme of stubbornness in health, showcasing a character's resilience while recovering from challenges, mirroring Grandpa Julio's spirit.

The second video delves into the nuances of being stubborn, revealing that sometimes, stubbornness can lead to unexpected lessons, just like those from Grandpa's antics.