A tale of a valley in the foothills of the Andes

This is the tale of a valley nestled in the foothills of the Andes, a place where giant dormant volcanoes wake from time to time shaking the grounds and spitting out dense columns of dark smoke. In Los Troncos it is always winter; on most days the sunny, blue sky alternates shifts with the starry nights that cover the glistening, snowed terrain. There, the trees are grand and mysterious, and upon them the woodpeckers borehole to make their nests.

Once upon a time Los Troncos was inhabited by only a few families. They lived in cosy, warm wooden cabins. They made their living from catering to travellers who crossed the valley on their journey. The little economy of Los Troncos was based on lodgings for the passers-by and providing them with food. More often than not, globetrotters would pay for their lodgings with flour, coffee beans, sugar and raw butter. These were the most valuable payments a proprietor could receive for their services. For they never left Los Troncos, as it was an enchanted valley which held their inhabitants prisoners.

One thing you are yet to discover dear reader is that the inhabitants of Los Troncos were very mean-spirited people. Mother Nature (the enchantress) kept them there under a spell that was only to be broken in the event of them growing a kind, compassionate heart. That rarely happened though. They were plump, red-cheeked people filled with indifference for their neighbours and although Los Troncos was a small valley people were lonely and isolated. They grew obsessed with accumulating goods and would never exchange anything with one another, preferring to let things go rotten in their storage rooms. If one inhabitant had excess wood, he would never swap it for his neighbour’s excess flour. Working together was never something that crossed their minds.

The enchantress, Mother Nature, from time to time threw hard times upon them in the hope that the hardship that followed would open their hearts to compassion. Once, a huge earthquake struck the valley; but instead of helping each other the inhabitants hid their coal and coffee from those who had none left of it. In turn, those with bags of coal and coffee beans, had water and blankets kept from them from the neighbour who abounded in it. Mother Nature, however, after witnessing such unkindness made the valley more and more beautiful, attractive and inviting. The inhabitants felt so privileged and lucky to live there, even though time and again small disasters were inflicted on them. One time it was a rat infestation, another time it rained volcanic ash on the entire Los Troncos, it never stopped really... Despite these events, inexplicably, the valley only grew more and more beautiful.

Word began to travel of a magnificent valley in the foothills of the Andes. People journeyed there to see the constant wintery terrain, the little wooden cabins and their perpetually lit fires. Some tourists however, saw no beauty in Los Troncos and left to never return. Others, on the other hand, fell completely in love with everything they found before them. They could not believe such place existed; they wanted to remain there forever (and they did). Many abandoned everything, so strong a spell were they under, and rebuilt their lives in Los Troncos. They claimed they wanted to be close to the mysterious trees, the singing birds and look after them. The enchantress, though, knew too well their real motif: they were envious of those who lived there. Their hearts were also filled with ill-feelings, which were now there to remain and forever perish in jealousy, and in an eternal competition with their neighbours.

The more tourists Los Troncos received, more travellers fell under its spell and stayed. The valley then grew bigger, and bigger, and bigger....