250. Victims of Nature B2 (repeat)

Comprehension questions for this B2-level story.

(I'm on holiday at the momento so leave you with a repeat episode.) Enjoy!

1) What reasons did Alberto's mother give Alberto for leaving the Alpujarra?

2) What did Gustavo mean by the comment "we're just victims of nature"?

3) The story says, "When Alberto saw the pink clouds at dawn, he knew bad weather was on the way". What was the saying mentioned in the story which told Alberto there was going to be a storm?

4) Why was Alberto worried when he saw the effects of the storm on the mountain?

5) Why did the picnickers run away from the pool?

6) Was this a true story?

I also include the transcript.

At https://www.practisingenglish.com/ I offer learners of intermediate-level English, grammar help and exercises and other English learning pages.
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My latest novel for learners of B2 English is called The Tudor Conspiracy. You can see it on Amazon here: https://amzn.to/33Axu2N
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Be back soon with another podcast!
Mike Bilbrough (Secondary school English teacher and Doctor in English philology)

Transcript

Victims of Nature

Alberto Palenciano Gonzalez was flying. The reality of the situation was obvious. Quite honestly, you could not really describe what was happening any other way. He was literally moving forwards through the air at a terrific speed, sitting, like some Aladdin and his magic lamp, on his wooden raft as though it were a flying carpet.

They say that when you are about to die, the events of your life pass before you like one of those ancient black-and-white movies filmed over a hundred years ago. Rapid movements of people and objects that come and go right up to the moment you breathe your last.

Alberto found himself in this unbelievable state right now. The cool mountain wind was rushing past him while he held on for dear life - for what his life was worth. Ahead of him lay blue sky, or was it heaven itself welcoming his forthcoming arrival…

***************

‘You don’t have to stay here,’ said his mother. ‘Your brother took a risk and left. Look at him now. He’s taken charge of his life: he’s set up his own business in Granada - paying a mortgage on his flat. He has an expensive car and a lovely wife and baby. What’s the point of hanging on in the Alpujarra? You’ll be bored stiff. Only sheep, poverty and danger around here. Do you want to be a shepherd for the rest of your life? If you live… Where’s that going to lead you?’ Off a cliff probably, off another cliff - just like your father, and tears fell down her cheeks.

His own mother, dark-haired, beautiful with a hot temper, who had made a living from doing the laundry for the wealthy tourists who spent their holidays in the rural holiday homes in their village of Trevelez. Intelligent, witty and as sharp as a pin, but with no education that extended further than what the local primary school could offer.

It didn’t strike Alberto as odd that she wanted him to go elsewhere and abandon his home in the picturesque Alpujarra. In fact, it was quite understandable considering what happened to his father.

When people imagine the south of Spain, they will usually think of the summer heat, boiling weather, hot dusty streets - a never-ending search for shade to escape the sun’s terrible eye. However, in Granada’s mountain range, the Sierra Nevada, with peaks of over three thousand metres, there lie the south-facing slopes of the Alpujarra region. Icy melt-water runs all year around down leafy, cool valleys into streams, rivers and waterfalls that soak the surrounding land, and provide the fruit orchards that feed its inhabitants.

It is a world that nature has claimed for itself, where humans struggle to exist in their brief, bright white villages that look like shovelfuls* of snow accidentally thrown by an enormous giant onto the mountainside. The area around these villages is pleasant green and yellow vegetation decorated with colourful flowers and butterflies in summer. Of course, then there are the highlands: rocky, grey, dizzy heights, massive and too threatening for humans to spend long in during the summer and impossible frozen regions in winter.

However, Alberto had spent all his life walking these mountains. With his father and their dog as a boy and, because it seemed a natural progression, with his flocks of sheep when he was older.

There had been times when his older brother, Gustavo, had accompanied him, but Gustavo had never shared Alberto’s love of their mountain home. As Gustavo had matured into a young man, he looked elsewhere, travelling with friends to see football matches in Granada and, tempted by the lights of the city, eventually staying long weekends. 

The boys’ father had passed away when Alberto was just ten years old. A terrible accident, a fall from a cliff that stood a hundred metres high over the river - trying to save some sheep. 

Their mother was torn apart by pain, her black hair showing white in places, yet, somehow, her fire and will to survive remained stronger than ever. She had encouraged Gustavo to leave, and now she wanted to convince Alberto too. ‘Go, while you’re still alive,’ she said, bent over the table making bread. White flour on her clothes and face. ‘There’s death in those mountains, death I tell you! I won’t have another member of my family killed!’ But, no! How could Alberto abandon this land - his father’s birthplace, home and grave?

His brother, Gustavo, had said something similar on his final departure from home. ‘How can you bear to stay here? This place is for the summer hikers and tourists. You’re limiting your life. You’ll end up like Dad. This place defeats a human being. Those mountains are too big, too dangerous. You can’t beat them. Life here is beyond our control. This land will kill you in the end. Here, we’re just victims of nature itself.’

During those seemingly long seconds that Alberto Palanciano Gonzalez flew through the Alpujarra sky, he was to remember the events of earlier that same day. 

Shepherds possess wisdom and knowledge of the natural world that help to protect them. When Alberto saw the pink clouds at dawn, he knew bad weather was on the way: “red sky at night, shepherds' delight, but red sky in the morning, shepherds’ warning”. What Alberto could not know was the tremendous storm, the largest he had ever witnessed, that was about to strike.

Absorbed in looking after his sheep, he ignored the thunder and lightning that did battle around the tall peaks. At two and half thousand metres above sea level, he believed he and his sheep would be safe. What he had not predicted were the storm’s effects on the River Trévelez that ran close by. 

All of a sudden, a great tree log brought by the swollen river waters crashed past Alberto and smashed onto the bank. Alberto glanced up the mountain and what he saw scared him stiff. Trees of all sizes were rushing down the mountain in huge, mad waves of water caused by the rain in the high mountain.

A thought immediately came to Alberto’s mind. The swimming pool at Trevelez. A pool area just outside the village which had been especially made for locals and tourists alike so they could enjoy a swim in the river’s icy waters. A natural swimming pool in the river. Every day in August the place was full of swimmers and picnickers. Those enormous wooden logs were rushing towards them. To make matters worse, they would fall over the waterfall down into the swimming pool below killing everybody in their path.

Alberto ran to his raft that he used to cross the river when the waters ran high. Just as well it was close at hand. Made of wooden logs tied together, it was a simple boat but effective for floating in shallow water. 

Alberto jumped on and untied it, so it was quickly caught in the current and sped along down the hill. This was surely the fastest way to get to Trevelez, and he had to get there fast to warn them of the terrible danger just behind him. The river was in a rage like Alberto had never witnessed before. The delicate raft crashed from one rock to another as it raced down the mountainside. Somehow, it remained in one piece. Alberto held on for dear life. What he would do when the raft reached the top of the waterfall, Alberto was not sure - but it went without saying that he had to go over the edge, or he would not reach the swimming pool in time.

Suddenly, he was over the edge…

Alberto Palenciano Gonzalez was flying. The reality of the situation was obvious. Quite honestly, you could not really describe what was happening any other way. He was literally moving forwards through the air at a terrific speed, sitting, like some Aladdin and his magic lamp, on his wooden raft as though it were a flying carpet.

Then Alberto felt the little boat beginning to drop, and he suddenly remembered this was where his father had died. From this cliff he had fallen all those years ago...

There was a tremendous splash and the raft hit the water of the swimming pool violently, and broke into tiny pieces of wood. Fortunately, there had been nobody below him. For a few moments, Alberto was dragged down under the icy water, but then he reached the surface, and swam, exhausted to the shallow water.

Out of breath, Alberto tried to shout,

‘Out! Get out! Danger!’ he shouted in Spanish.

However, he had not needed to say anything. At the sight of this mad-looking, bearded mountain man, who had apparently fallen out of the sky into the middle of the pool, some forty or fifty people, very frightened people, screamed and raced out of the water.

It was not far enough, of course,

‘Go, go!’ he shouted at the top of his voice. ‘The mountain is coming. It will kill you all. Go back up to the village!’

It was very probable that many of the foreign tourists understood nothing of what Alberto said in Spanish. Although, as he ran towards them, his beard and long shepherd’s coat dripping with water, they all ran up the hillside leaving their towels and picnic things behind.

And only just in time! That dream-like waterfall that usually dropped lazily into the summer pool, in a matter of seconds became like the Victoria Falls. Logs, rocks and whole trees crashed down destroying the whole area. 

But, thanks to Alberto, nobody was hurt – everybody was safely back on higher ground in the village. The storm soon passed, and Trevelez was back to normal.

**********

Alberto Palenciano Gonzalez received a medal for bravery for what he did that day. He got his name into the newspapers. His friends called him ‘man of the mountain’ and ‘the rider of storms’. He was a local hero. When the Trevelez Town Hall rebuilt the swimming pool below the waterfall the following spring, they also put up a statue of Alberto sitting on his raft. To this day, below the statue, the visiting tourist can read the words:

In gratitude to the shepherd
Alberto Palenciano Gonzalez,
who saved the lives of so many
from being victims of the sudden flood
which hit the river pools of Trevelez