Remembrance and Dark Twisty Path 
That certainly will be the country of the teeming hordes of suffering and pain that hit in the eighties and early 90's to the Peruvian population. Under the bloody figure of a sick mind that slang like wildfire in the area college student and unfortunately a large number of innocent compatriots. Today, the trail, breathe his last groans and dissipates in a cloud still full of terror.
almost 20 years ago as a child, you could hear the explosions in the distance to the city plunged in darkness and with the naivete of my age asked mom why do that? - Want to attention, I said. Immediately after the hill slowly began to glow, about three to four bright yellow and moved in opposite directions and then bring up others, forming a huge figure visible from miles away. The hammer and sickle was shining and the police sirens howled with Pay close immediately.
The artifact in vogue at the time, which provided up to a certain social status compared to other neighbors, was not the possession of a color TV, recently published, but is reflected in the holding of an electrical generator. Such was the familiarity with the countless nights of gloom because of the demolition of the towers of high tension at the hands of terrucos, until cleverly resourceful traders filled their pockets with meager rental business generators. The area where I lived was considered "red zone", a term that years later I realized what it meant. Several teachers from a school nearby national were arrested and some others escaped, leaving their families leaving, they were accused of belonging to their own path and confined to the ostracism of live stranded with a stigma that made it even more difficult situation. After the hubbub
walker and some gunfire heard in the distance, the morning appeared with an evident tension, painted walls with slogans alluding to the terrorist cause and a substantial amount of red ink pamphlets carpet served as the students who enter school ready. A transparent recall
still lingers in my mind is drawn in an evangelistic campaign outside, where my family and of course also involved me. About 8, in the midst of worship, the lights of the posts went out, and the darkness of the night preparing the trembling stage for what would be my closest encounter with terrorist violence. The preacher does not shrink from his speech to the lack of light and apparently the audience either, as the praise sounded stronger encouraged by the adversity of the moment. Is when I close the distance down the main street a ENATRU bus (public transport) which reflected in its interior a very strange light, as he approached, the speech of those who became aware of the situation was evidence of the severity of the event.
I could see very clearly from a mere 5 meters and a group of 4 people threatened the driver of the vehicle with a gun, they had red cloth covering the bottom of their faces. I could also see that fuel sprayed inside the bus and the flames began to rise creating a very heavy black smoke. Attendees started running I was terrified and I almost trampled in the stampede, in the midst of the crowd only managed to hide behind a wall because some so came to my mind the idea that if the fire reached the vehicle's fuel tank, this would explode, spewing shrapnel that could penetrate and kill people at your fingertips. Obviously he sought with the thought and sight of my parents in the crowd had disappeared. Later I found a couple of blocks up, worried about my short loss. Back home still envisioned the tops of black smoke illuminated by the huge tongues of fire, while police sirens were lost as the decade progressed. The next day, the radio reported the hiker simultaneous attack were three ENATRUS kidnapped and burned with the leaving two people dead. Were difficult times, with hardships and fears then any boy my age should.
is why you see a video to the cheers of college kids upset by encouraging the release of the bloody, I whipped and moral torture.
