The little Daehyun, born one of these days when land parcels were sold with scripts in order. It was the July 9, 1872, holiday. People weren't working and Molina, with the badge pinned to the lapel, between hot pies and red wine, took advantage of the holiday to sell hundreds of lots.
It was cold. Mara came and went through the house with an air of mystery, waiting for the new father. Late in the afternoon, Yongguk arrived at the gate, she met him and, gesturing to remain silent, which led to the big bed where Himchan lay with a bundle in his arms.
Seeing that scene, his strength and fell to his knees disappeared. The youngest saw the movement and held out a hand and said:
-Come, love, come, look how cute is our son.
Both were 24 years old and already had nine months in Argentina.
Yongguk repeatedly kissed the forehead of Himchan and whispering words of love, took the baby with tenderness, so much joy thanking God.
-Careful ... is very small ... love, give it back.
-Dear, my dear, if Mara had not been here...
-I would have managed. You know I'm capable of anything to remain happy with you. I can't right now, but tomorrow you will find me up.
-I forbid it. You must beware. Mara, please, let him understand... this hardheaded.
The Indian, quietly, took the baby and put it back next to the young father, she looked both sweetly and retired saying:
-Mr must bathe while I prepare dinner.
Yongguk gestured to his husband, mimicking the apparent severity of the woman, and they both laughed.

Mara played well her role of housekeeper. She and Himchan entertained -learning to read one, and reading the other- during the nap hours. It was a comical scene: Himchan gesturing exaggeratedly to erase his French accent and Mara laughed excitedly whenever she could read without breaks, a complete sentence.

The mayor provided them with newspapers, books and magazines, and always sent them the latest developments. Yongguk, after dinner, listened to his husband read aloud a poem for him. They both knew it was very important to speak the Castilian language fluently and put much effort into it. Meanwhile, growing Daehyun glowing with health and expressed his lively intelligence and insatiable curiosity. That year the Naval Academy was created, who worked on the ship Almirante Brown, and that was  the occasion of a long letter to Fayole Yongguk, telling the good news is created.
One afternoon, almost at year's end, after reviewing the package of books that had just arrived from the mayor, surprised Himchan read the first lines of a poem of gauchos. It was the story of a poor man named Martin Fierro, who lived a series of adventures. This work had them immersed for several days. He also enjoyed reading the Eduardo Gutierrez's stories, a young journalist who told stories of men away from the right path for some injustice, brave and thrown it almost always ended their lives tragically.
Hilario Ascasubi works: Santos vega, Aniceto el Gallo and Paulino Lucero also appeared that year compiled in three volumes. In the foreword to the first, Santos Vega said: '' ... the paradise of each man is in the homeland; and if she lacks, and if she is far away, so that paradise lies in the memories of that beloved land and only at times of deep reconcentration in the spirit travels, crosses the seas, recounts the times, men and things and the feeling of pure love lives in an ideality which is not possible to describe, but it feels that there is for every man and that can only be born of love for the homeland ... ''.
Silent tears rolled down the face of Himchan and decided not to read that prologue to her husband, neatly cut the first page and threw it into the fire before the astonished eyes of Mara. The issue of the distant homeland was a constant melancholy for both. France were hurt in the heart and soul, and more thankful and happy they were in Argentina could not forget that their land.
Books also came from Europe. Catherine and Seohyun periodically sent their parcels with gifts and good literature. So, Mara could know who was Alfonso de Lamartine, because Himchan every day translate a date of The Manuscript of my Mother.
When he began the story, there was a lot of explaining to the Indian by frequent allusion to death: '' ... I strive for the treatment of living do not distract in any way from my dealings with the souls of those who no longer exist. With pleasure I intern for the less frequented paths of the forest, where trees still retain as much of yellowing leaves intercepting the pale rays of the sun, which also as a constant rain so many are falling, dead leaves beneath our feet, we are told that everything is dead, everything dies, everything will die ... ''.
That was a taboo subject for Mara and never quite understood what was the need to appoint death. His father, an important Tehuelche chief, had taught his people that death had to ignore it, never naming it, for not repaired them and take them.
At that time, Sarmiento had sent recognize the Black River, south of the province of Buenos Aires, to avoid excesses, for the final formation of the nation would not be in the provincial warlords or indigenous chiefs, and constantly disobeyed the law .
Rivas first expeditions, and Arredondo then disturbed to the Indians, the true owner of the land, they decided to attack. Families who lived in the border paid the price the anger of the Indians and were victims of raids. While this was happening, Mara, definitely away from his race, kept learning together with Himchan and both wept the saddest passages from Lamartine, and laughed when the mother of the poet told amusing stories about their daily lives.
On January 9, 1873, at age 65, he died in Chislehurt, near London, Prince Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, who was Emperor of France for 18 years.Enigmatic and contradictory, he gave France several days of military glory. The ex-emperor was suffering from a painful disease called stones, was a serious and chronic case. ''How can he -the doctores asked- this man has been held for five hours on horseback in the field debatalla Sedan? It's amazing what he must have suffered!''.
To this Yongguk often referred. He had witnessed great effort and deeply regretted the death of Napoleon III. When he read the news in newspapers, he withdrew into himself and, almost at midnight, went for a long walk through the village. Himchan worried, waited sitting on the top step of the entrance. He came back very late and seeing him there with troubled expression, fell to his knees beside him and pulled out his sobs with anguish.
 

During the following years, while Daehyun kept growing and manifesting as a very intelligent child; his father worked hard parceling and measuring fields in a vast region in the province of Buenos Aires. But while Himchan announcing a new future son, there were finished lands. They could not move for fear of the Indians, who were still kings in many leagues around. Mr. Molina, who had already made his ''August '' decided that he would take a long vacation and then try to go to the side of Luján, looking for new subdivisions. So he communicated that to Yongguk, for that reason came home early. Young father and son were playing in a hammock that had been built in the garden.
-Daehyunnie Look, there comes Daddy!
After kissing them, the biggest sat on the edge of the gallery.
-You look worried. Was there something unpleasant?
-The surveying is completed. I should get another job.
-Just like that?
-Mr. Molina will take vacation I do not know how long they will last. With the sale of land made a lucrative business, I suspect that his retirement be long; Meanwhile, dear, I can not remain inactive. The money does not spare us and frankly, this uncertainty bothers me. I was told that there is a place in the offices of Moron. I will come here tomorrow.
Himchan looked lovingly at his husband and his blackened hair tried to search his mind a solution or a comfort.
Suddenly, his face lit with a memory.
-And if we wrote to the Mr. of the boat? Do you remember? He taught us so kind Castilian during the trip ... I kept his card.
-Well, dear, but first let's see what fate is in the mail, I would like to have contact with the correspondence, is something interesting to pass through my hands and under my responsibility, the words and ideas of the people.
The next day, very early, Yongguk left for Moron, a larger and more organized neighboring town to Merlo. There he met with Postmaster and after a long talk got the vacant post.
The move was not difficult, because the new place of residence was a neighbor to Merlo and managed to rent a comfortable house located close to the post offices. This time, the imperial chair was not traveling alone, there were other furniture and a piano Yongguk had given to Himchan on their last wedding anniversary. Moron was a village that evolved over several centuries from a humble post on the way into the territory.
The routine of the family changed for the better, because the work in the mail included a schedule and Yongguk was more relaxed and happy.
Some time later, they received the answer of Mr. Meyer: In the south of the province of Entre Rios had fields that were beeing parcelled and needed someone to work them. Given this great opportunity, Yongguk felt he had to complete the formalities to be a surveyor with title; He traveled to Buenos Aires and give a, given their extensive knowledge on the subject. Meanwhile, Mara and Himchan worked feverishly to complete the move as soon as possible, because they had decided to move to Entre Rios. The province was far away, but after all lived in Argentina, they were not frightened about distances.
Mara, recalling that by a few years the governor of that province, Justo José de Urquiza, had been killed and that Lopez Jordan, the rebel leader, was still bothering the government with its revolutions, worried about the safety of '' her '' family, but Yongguk explained that the situation was already standardized and do not carry any risk.
The Postmaster of Moron, which was fond of them, lamented that they left and upbraided them that they had not been consulted. When they parted, he gave Yonnguk a shiny bronze plaque saying: -You must place it next to your door and all will know that you are a surveyor as God intended.
They left the day when spring began. Himchan and Mara last toured the town and climbed a little sad to the rental car that move them to Buenos Aires. The weary gait of the horses and the loneliness of the landscape made them doze. It was early, the sun rose on the horizon, blushing with a purple sash greenish sky. A delicious calm reigned in the air. The bell of the Church of the Immaculate Conception in the distance sounded clear and melancholy, like saying goodbye.
They arrived in Buenos Aires almost late in the afternoon, because they had to stop several times because the trip caused nausea to Himchan. The city lights were coming on. Yongguk left them staying in a hotel, kept the few possessions they owned, paid the driver and went to the staging post to buy tickets and find times that suit them go.

The country had definitely entered the field of European economy, whose expansion required raw materials and imposed their manufactures. Creole ruling class began to be considered and talked about his aristocratic lineage to differentiate themselves the immigrant and increase the privileges that ownership of large tracts of land -to which had barbed wire thanks to the invention of the North American Glidden- gave them. They despised those who came from the poorest countries in Europe and learned the rich and proud rules of the upper classes, the preference for the French poets and admiration for the impeccable English cut of the levite, who credited his social position. For this behavior, Argentina paid tribute to strong internal shocks, which not only reflected his own crisis, but also that of Europe.
In this climate, the Blachat left Buenos Aires.

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There's a lot of history in this chapter, but history is nice, sometimes...

Hope you like this as I like it :)