Tano
Hoy, en el entierro de Tano, leí como pude una lista de cosas que él había hecho en su vida.
La lista estaba incompleta .
La voy a poner acá incluyendo ítems que me recordaron después algunos de los que se me acercaron. Abajo pueden sugerir otras actividaes que hayamos omitido y yo las sumaré a la lista cada tanto.
Creo que a todos nos gustaría que Cristine y Georg anotaran lo que dijeron y que todo el que quiera agregue sus comentarios con total libertad. Andrés, profesor de canto de Tano cantó unos armónicos que a él seguramente le hubiesen encantado.
(ya actualicé con los comentarios de Inés y Carmen)
Boy Ingouville
La lista estaba incompleta .
La voy a poner acá incluyendo ítems que me recordaron después algunos de los que se me acercaron. Abajo pueden sugerir otras actividaes que hayamos omitido y yo las sumaré a la lista cada tanto.
Creo que a todos nos gustaría que Cristine y Georg anotaran lo que dijeron y que todo el que quiera agregue sus comentarios con total libertad. Andrés, profesor de canto de Tano cantó unos armónicos que a él seguramente le hubiesen encantado.
(ya actualicé con los comentarios de Inés y Carmen)
Boy Ingouville
- Fabricación de lámparas con fierros viejos y tulipas
- Cerámicas con molde (tasas y ensaladeras)
- Restauración de carruajes antiguos
- Astronomía con telescopios
- Cocina
- Intrumentos musicales construcción y restaurción
- Armónicos musicales
- Fabiciación de mueble de madera
- Fabricación de cucharas de madera
- Fotografía (toma y revelado)
- Windsurf
- Tenis
- Hijos
- Astrología
- Cerámica con torno a pie
- Computación (programador de IBM)
- Tai Chi
- I Ching
- Cría de peces
- Seguimiento de la evolución del sol
- Relojes
- Bajista en el Conjunto Musical The Outlaws
- Batucadas
- Piano
- Cultivo de Hongos
- Faricación de Pan casero
- Fabricación de Quesos
- Saborización de vinos con virutas de roble
- Ahumado de truchas
- Cuarto camino, grupo de trabajo espiritual según las ideas de Gurdjieff y Ouspensky
- Grupo de dirección del colegio San Marcos
- Plantado de árboles
- Colección de Baúles
- Tejido en telar
- Estudio y grabación del canto de las ranas
- Edición de discos caseros incluyendo la mezcla de canto humano con ranas
- Edición casera de libros
- Dibujo de mandalas
- Grabado de laberintos sobre piedra
- Fabricación de velas
- Collección y restauración de faroles y lámparas antiguas
- Aeromodelismo a control remoto
- Vuelo de barriletes en serie
- Observación de aves
- Jardinería
- Enseñanza escolar en la Villa de Retiro
- Clases particulares de matemáticas, química, etc. a parientes y amigos.
- Invención del botón que hacía volar las bicicletas
- Scalectric (incluyendo el desarrollo del modelo Tanus Uno)
- Paseaba a Bock en largos viajes en bicicleta
- Trabajo en Longvie
- ....
.
.
Never the Spirit was born
The Spirit shall cease to be, never.
Never was time it was not
End and beginning are dreams.
Birthless and deathless and changeless
Abideth the Spirit forever.
Death doth not touch it at all.
.
.
Nunca nació el espíritu
No cesará nunca de ser
Nunca un tiempo en el que no fuera
Fin y principio son sueños.
Sin nacimiento y sin muerte, y sin cambios
Vive por siempre el Espíritu
La muerte para nada lo toca
.
El Bhagavad Gita
(propuesto para la ocasión por Willie y Patricia Jacob y Leído por Carmen Olaechea)
posted by Boy at 3:00 PM
8 Comments:
- Cuarto camino, grupo de trabajo espiritual según las ideas de Gurdjieff y Ouspensky.
- Canto armónico.
Never the Spirit was born
The Spirit shall cease to be, never.
Never was time it was not -
End and beginning are dreams.
Birthless and deathless and changeless
Abideth the Spirit forever.
death doth not touch it at all.
Nunca nació el espíritu
No cesará nunca de ser
Nunca un tiempo en el que no fuera -
Fin y principio son sueños.
Sin nacimiento y sin muerte, y sin cambios
Vive por siempre el Espíritu
La muerte para nada lo toca El Bhagavad Gita
Gracias, Boy, por recordarnos muchas de las tantísimas cosas que Tano hizo, investigó, aprendió y creó con tanta pasión durante su vida y que a tantos ha inspirado.
Quiero compartir con los demás la lindísma carta de John Nolon, gran amigo de Tano y toda la familia (Cumbre es un sobrenombre que él me puso:
Cumbre, thank you for bringing Anne and me into the process of celebrating Tano's incredible life and of grieving his much too early passing. Last night, we sat on our patio, where we have sat with you and with Tano and Ines, and talked about the things we knew of him. We have so many memories, beginning with his faux-indignant reaction at his swiped lunch box on Lago Argentino and then restoring me to the status of his ex-former friend. (Every weekend I use a key chain Amalia made for me that bears the initials EFF, and I remember and smile.) We moved on through our recollections of him at the farm in Argentina, at the glacier, in your home, and his, in our home, at our Pennsylvania farm, on a pyramid in Mexico, countless dinners, on snow packed roads in New York, on the beach in Uruguay, and at Jennie's college. We share a travelling frog with the Girolas on which we put the dates of all of our trips together; the frog switched homes at the end of each trip and was there this past weekend, in my imagination, witness to the smile on his face.
Through it all, we laughed at his jokes, were healed by his calm presence, and marveled at the breadth of his curiousity. He took apart a grandfather clock that my great-great uncle built and got it all but running; and it runs still: in his honor. He told jokes that are deeply embedded in our memories because they were tremendously funny, but really because of the look on his face when he told them: he bacame the tango dancer sliding his shiny shoe where it ought not be and the Italian pilot advising the passengers what to do with their passports. He became "Tonto" for Anne's father, who couldn't remember "Tano," because his sense of humor was everything and there was no pride, only understanding of a new situation that he relished, like he relished life's every turn.
I have sat at my desk for a year and five months looking at a beaming picture of him with Anne and me at Willie and Patricia's house. There he sits, after dinner, with empty wine glasses and a full heart enjoying another moment with friends. That picture is in a calendar that Jennie gave me for the year 2006. It remains on March, with Tano smiling at me as I am sure he is at all of us who were fortunate enough to know him.
Anne Kaufman, la mujer de John Nolon dice:
Dearest Boy,
I am still awake reading emails and I met yours, first on the list. Maru called me last night just as we were sitting talking with my mother on the porch of our cottage on the farm in Pennsylvania. I could not believe what I heard and I knew that I did not have the courage to tell John right away. I left the porch as John grilled and talked with Velma, my only US friend who had met Tano when we vacationed in Argentina a few years ago....the last time we saw Tano. (We had dinner with Ines and Tano at Aires de Patagonia and John exchanged a rock with Tano.) When I finally had the heart to tell John, we called Ines. We felt Ines' strength and comfort in having a house full of family and friends who she loves and who loved Tano and we wished so much, that we were there with you. I called the airline hoping that I could come, but realizing that it would be impossible to reach you in such a short time. Since last night, we have looked at our pictures of us together with Tano and we have had some time to talk about all our powerful memories of our dear friend, so many of which you have included on your list. I am sure that we all have our own special humorous and poignant moments don't we!.... Tano and Ines, Carmen, Patricia and Willie, Maru and of course, you, are all family to us. We thank you for this lifetime gift. We will never forget the good times and now, the hard times....We keep you all in our prayers and love you very very much and will always remember and hold dear our love for and memories of our special friend Tano.
Anne
nuestros amigos de ecuador, Jose María Saez (español) y Mónica Moreira llamaron para decirme que estaban pensando mucho en nosotros y que les tranmitiera sus saludos a todos los familaires y amigos de Tano
te acordas cunado yo con el tano coleccionaba chistes, y los domingos, ritual, comida china y todo , agrandabamos la coleccion.
y como es el cuento de mateo y el huevo duro?
Dear Ingouvilles,
In September 1996 I travelled to Buenos Aires for the wedding of my nephew Juan Carlos, after several years of absence while living in Brazil. When I walked into St. Saviour’s Church I saw many familiar faces, several of which I had not seen in decades. After the service a gentleman with snow-white hair, a matching beard and lively eyes, a slim version of Santa Clause, came up to me and challenged me with a wicked smile: “I bet you don’t know who I am!”.
I looked strait into his eyes and said “You are Tano Girola, and you are married to my cousin Inés”. The smile never left his lips, but his eyes showed a mixture of disappointment and joy at being recognized after so many years, and so many changes. But it was four years later, while sipping a glass of wine at his home, that I learned the full extent of the ordeal that had provoked such a physical transformation.
Tano had cancer; in fact it was a rare and virulent version of leukaemia. Chemotherapy had reduced his body defences considerably leaving him open to all kinds of attacks by other ailments. A particularly malevolent strain of herpes, which he was never able to defeat, caused excruciating pain at times just by the act of putting on his clothes, a pain he learned to live with and barely control with massive doses of cortisone, which eventually caused his demise.
During every trip I made to BA I made a point of visiting Tano and Inés, whether to taste the latter’s delicious ravioli, going out for a meal at a quiet restaurant or just an ice-cream, and then later wondering if that meeting had been our last.
Que saudades!
Carlos Ingouville
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