The Narrative Dialogue and Meeting of:Historian Maria Rostworowski and Poet Dennis L. Siluk

The Narrative Dialogue and Meeting of:
Historian Maria Rostworowski and Poet Dennis L. Siluk


Advance: A historical meeting, it can be called between renowned historian, Maria Rostworowski (de Diez Canseco), of Lima, Peru, and Dennis L. Siluk, Poet and novelist (who lives part time in Peru, and part time in his home state of Minnesota, USA); Maria has a half-century of cultivating Peru’s historical past, and a world wide audience with her countless books on its cultures, traditions, and historical data; a few books translated from the Spanish into English (i.e., “History of the Inca Realm”).
Maria's mother was a Peruvian lady and her father was Polish, as was brought out during the meeting between her and Dennis. Maria arrived in Peru when she was 19-years old, and fell in love with the country, similar to Dennis’ experience. She married a Pole in Poland, as Dennis married a Peruvian from Huancayo, Peru, adventuring in Lima, in 1999, they met, and married a few months later, in February of 2000.
Maria became a self-taught historian. Like Maria, Dennis’ enthusiasm has lead him to explore Peru, and write six books on its customs, traditions, and culture, in poetic form, and receive awards from the Los Andes University, in Huancayo, for his cultural contribution; in addition, he was awarded the Grand Cross of the City of San Jeronimo, and appointed Poeta Laureado of the city, along with Awarded the National Prize of Peru, "Antena Regional": The best of 2006 for promoting culture.
Maria, in Lima she met and married Alejandro Diez Canseco, her true love and together they lead a very culture-oriented life, perhaps like Dennis and Rosa Penaloza de Siluk have these past several years, for Rosa has traveled around the world several times, and throughout Peru.
Although much of Dennis’ cultural poetry is on many aspects of Peru, a great deal is on the Wanka Warrior and Pacific War, Dennis being a decorated Vietnam Veteran, of the war (1971), and the Mantaro Valley, as with Maria, to a great extent is on the Inca Empire.
Maria, She perhaps can be called, or referred to as the Josephus of Peru; as Dennis has been referred to in Peru, as the Jules Verne (referring to all his travels, and books relating to travel, and his cultural style of poetry, and writings), and at times, the Globe-trotter Poet, dubbed by the newspapers, and magazines in Peru. And now for the Narration, and meeting:




The Narrative Dialogue and Meeting



We (my wife, Rosa and I) arrived at the building about 10:50 AM, Thursday, Morning, in Lima, Peru (Miraflores) at the cultural center (Peruvian Learning Instituted); right after we arrived we talked briefly with the guard, and we were already twenty-minutes late for the meeting, our cab was stranded on the highway, and we had to jump off it, and catch another on the side road. As we hurried on up the stars, we came to a small office, the guard had pointed to, there she was sitting behind her desk, I knew her instantly, had seen a picture of her, she looked the same, I thought it was a younger picture, so I was surprised: she wore a silk like multi colored blouse (black, red and white for the most part). She was 91-years old, but looked more like 67 or 69 I thought, well kept. She, Maria came around her desk, greeting me and my wife, and asked us to sit down, at which time, I gave her two of my books I had done on Peru, she read the titles verbally, as she looked at each one, read them in English, “The Spell of the Andes,” and “The Magic of the Avelinos,” she smiled, I could see she was proud to be a Peruvian, even though I would find out, she was Polish, from her father’s side, and Peruvian from her mother’s. I knew it was most difficult to get a visit with her, she had been sick a week before, and did not allow many visitors to visit her, confirmed by a number of people prior to my arrival, and even the guard was surprised, thus I felt more than lucky.

“Sit down please,” she said with her strong looking frailness, soft but stern eyes.
As I sat down I asked her to sign one of her boos for me, ‘Historia Del Tahuantinsuyu” and as I went to sign my books for her, she said, modestly, and with a little humor, “We shall interchange,” and again came that mysterious smile, that was warm and unspoiled.

(During the next few minutes I stood up, and Rosa my wife, too two pictures of her and I, and I showed them to her on my digital camera, and she looked at me somewhat, and said, “I’m 91-years old:” I didn’t say anything, perhaps nothing to say, she looked 20-years younger, perhaps that clinic had did some work on her, if so, it was worth every penny she paid, she looked good for her age.)


Next came, loose talk about the food from Huancayo, since I had brought up the subject of my wife being from there, “I like Cuy Colorado,” I told her, and she replied, “Have you tried Cuy Chactado?” And I replied, “Oh yes…Professor Padro’s wife in Huancayo made it for me, it was very good!” Then I added, “I like Huancayo po…ta..” and before I could finish the sentence, she corrected me, “You mean, Papa a la Huancaina?”
“Yes,” I confirmed.

(I think Maria was finding out, I loved Peru and its mysterious cultures as much as she did, back when she first discovered this ancient land.)

“What is your origin?” she asked me, knowing I was from North America.
“Russian and Irish,” I said, adding, “And your name isn’t Peruvian...?”
“Of course not,” she said, “it’s Polish.” Then I added, “I’m Polish also, from my Grandmother’s side, Russian from my Grandfather, and Irish, from my father.” Somewhat repeating myself.
“It’s a mixture,” she commented. I think I left out the Polish because of just that, too many spices in the pie. (And we talked briefly on that, how my extended family life, brought out the Polish and Russian in the family circle.)

Next, my wife and I invited her for breakfast saying, “Martina,” was going to be over Wednesday for breakfast (and her MD, friend).
“Who is Martina?” she said, with a speck of wit, she was quite lively for 91-years old woman.
My wife explained, she was from the Center of Anti-aging, in Lima, and she recognized the name right away, saying, “There is a meeting next week there.” (I thought, what a sharp memory, better than mine,)

Then realizing the time had gone by quickly, I merely said, in a low voice; “We shouldn’t take anymore of your time, you’ve already given us much of it, and I’m sure you have things to do,” and so I excused us, and she said promptly, “Nice to meet you,” she was standing, when she talked, and now started to sit down, as we started to leave.
It was a most cordial meeting, and one I feel, brought out the ordinariness of a person, one that is not locked into a box because of ones profession. This was good I thought: there is a great humanness about this renowned historian.