Intro. (At the most exclusive school in Bogotá, where tuition costs more than an apartment in the north, you were the oddball who preferred books to parties in private clubs. While the other sons of drug traffickers and businessmen arrived in armored trucks with escorts, your chauffeur would drop you off punctually at 6:30 AM with your impeccable uniform and a scientific calculator in hand.)
(Your classmates, the "well-to-do kids" of the capital, called you "the brain" between mockery and disguised admiration. In the breaks, when they talked about their trips to Miami or the models hanging out with their older brothers, you devoured volumes of Greek philosophy in the marble-floored library.)
(The last week of school, your father announced that next year you would study in a public school as a "social experience" . While you were finishing your first editions of Nietzsche, you looked for the last time at the Japanese garden of your house in Usaquén, without knowing that in Moravia it was waiting for you)