¿Quién es Germán? Cuentos de dos universitarias enamoradas / Who Is Germán? Stories of Two College Girls in Love
Aunque no lo parezca, casi toda mi adolescencia y temprana adultez fui bastante tĂmida, por razones que si bien ahora me parecen absurdas, en ese momento marcaban una enorme falta de autoestima auspiciada por terceros. Pero ese no es el cuento de este post.
CorrĂan los años 90 del siglo pasado (si!, soy una señora que naciĂł en el siglo XX) cuando estaba cursando la carrera de ComunicaciĂłn Social en la UCAB (Universidad CatĂłlica AndrĂ©s Bello), para entonces, mi amiga Karen y yo coincidĂamos en la parada para tomar el metrobĂşs que iba desde AntĂmano y nos devolvĂamos juntas hasta la estaciĂłn del metro de Bellas Artes donde ella bajaba.
Siendo este medio de transporte el que usábamos la mayorĂa de los estudiantes, usualmente veĂamos caras que resultaban conocidas, aunque no estudiaran la misma carrera que nosotras, y fue asĂ como conocimos a Germán, un chico alto de abundante cabello negro que contrastaba con lo blanco de su tez. HacĂa el mismo recorrido que nosotras, pero no sabĂamos quĂ© carrera estudiaba.
Su nombre original nunca lo supimos, pero entre nosotras, y el resto de las amigas del salĂłn, lo bautizamos asĂ como un nombre clave, y cada vez que lo veĂamos en nuestros ratos libres, le decĂamos a Karen su ubicaciĂłn, para que ella fuera a verle, pues estaba prendida de este chico. Lo mejor es que podĂamos hablar de Ă©l, sin que se enterara nadie externo, pues Germán, era realmente "Her man" o el chico de ella (de mi amiga).
Estuvimos coincidiendo con Ă©l hasta que a Karen le empezaron a prestar el auto y ya no usábamos el transporte pĂşblico, ya luego nuestro turno fue nocturno y menos coincidĂamos en los pasillos de la universidad. AsĂ que Germán pasĂł a ser algo asĂ como una leyenda urbana.
Y quizás estĂ©n pensando que la amiga es ficticia, pero no lo es! De hecho, a mi me gustaba otro chico, uno rubio de ojos claros, que estudiaba ingenierĂa, de ese pude conocer más detalles, pero nunca lo conocĂ a Ă©l como tal, y ni nombre ficticio le asignĂ©, asĂ que pasĂł sin penas ni glorias, salvo la amenaza constante de un compañero de clases cuyo hermano gemelo estudiaba con Ă©l y me decĂa que le dirĂa sobre mi.
Ahora que lo pienso, capaz y era el amor de mi vida y lo dejé escapar! jajaja, pero por ahora, solo me quedan los recuerdos de mi yo adolescente inventando apodos y enamorándome sola, que ahora comparto para cuando mis hijos quieran saber un poco más de esta madre poco convencional que les tocó.
Although it may not seem like it, I was quite shy throughout most of my adolescence and early adulthood—for reasons that, while they now seem absurd to me, at the time reflected a severe lack of self-esteem fueled by others. But that’s not what this post is about.
It was the 1990s (yes, I’m a woman who was born in the 20th century) when I was studying Social Communication at UCAB (AndrĂ©s Bello Catholic University). Back then, my friend Karen and I would meet at the stop to take the Metrobus from AntĂmano, and we’d ride together back to the Bellas Artes metro station, where she’d get off.
Since this was the mode of transportation most students used, we’d often see familiar faces, even if they weren’t studying the same major as us, and that’s how we met Germán, a tall guy with thick black hair that contrasted with his fair complexion. He took the same route as us, but we didn’t know what he was studying.
We never knew his real name, but among ourselves—and the rest of our friends in class—we gave him that nickname as a code name, and every time we saw him during our free time, we’d tell Karen where he was so she could go see him, since she had a crush on this guy. The best part was that we could talk about him without anyone else finding out, since Germán was really “Her man”
We kept running into him until Karen started borrowing the car and we stopped using public transportation; then our class schedule shifted to the evening, so we ran into each other less often in the university hallways. So Germán became something of an urban legend.
And you might be thinking that my friend is fictional, but she’s not! In fact, I had a crush on another guy—a blond guy with light eyes who was studying engineering. I found out more details about him, but I never actually met him in person, and I didn’t even give him a made-up name, so he came and went without much fanfare—except for the constant threat from a classmate whose twin brother was in his class and who kept telling me he’d tell him about me.
Now that I think about it, maybe he was the love of my life and I let him slip away! Hahaha, but for now, all I have left are memories of my teenage self making up nicknames and falling in love all on my own—which I’m now sharing for when my kids want to know a little more about this unconventional mom they ended up with.
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