Palm Trees in the Snow (Palmeras en la nieve)

- Kilian, time to go. - Coming.

Always remember me as I am now. I shall do the same with you.

Good luck.

My luck runs out here and now.

Goodbye.

Farewell.

Eternal rest grant unto Jacobo de Rabaltué, O Lord

And let perpetual light shine upon him.

May his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed,

through the mercy of God, rest in peace.

Come on, it's a bit quieter in here.

We had so many things left to say.

Dad... I should have come earlier.

How's your father?

He has good days when he seems to be alright...

and others when he isn't.

He seems to lose it, saying things I don't understand

about Bioko, the plantation...

It's as if the past is more real than the present.

Sometimes he looks at me like he doesn't even know me.

And sometimes I'm not sure I know him either.

I know exactly what you mean.

Last week the lawyers from the ski resort were here again.

They want to finalise the purchase of our land as soon as possible

so they can start building in the spring.

And, well, we need your signature to finalise the sale.

I think I put the contract over here.

Clarence, I know this isn't the best time,

but the sooner we get this over with, the better.

Here...

- What's this? - My father's diary.

- Sorry. - It's OK.

- Daniela. - What?

Kilian.

Coming.

Dad, hey. Hi.

Again? My daughter, I'm so sorry.

I'm sorry.

- Could you help me, Clarence? - Yes.

OK, done.

I don't understand you, Dad... but it sounds very pretty.

Daniela, stay with me.

Yes, Dad.

Julia.

- You really didn't have to. - It's no bother.

Would you like a cup of hot chocolate?

The day I say no to that is the day you can start worrying!

While I was sorting through some papers in the office...

I found part of a letter that looks like it was sent from Africa.

Forgive me.

An old woman's sentimental nonsense.

It's my husband's handwriting.

Do you know who he's talking about?

He mentions a woman and some children they used to send money to...

I can read, Clarence.

I had a look at the accounts...

and it looks like regular payments were sent from here.

- Maybe you should ask your uncle. - He's in no condition to talk.

I wouldn't want anyone important to be forgotten about.

Julia, what's wrong?

If we hadn't had to leave the way we did...

I don't think I would've moved back to Pasolobino.

And my father? Would he have liked to have stayed too?

Your father was never one to show his feelings.

I know that better than anyone.

Well, perhaps my mother,

but she didn't seem to be a particularly happy woman.

I've decided to go to Bioko.

It's been almost forty years since we left.

You won't like what you find.

- It doesn't matter. - The Fernando Poo we knew is gone.

Also, it's a very dangerous trip for a woman travelling on her own.

There's no way I'm going to be able to talk you out of it, is there?

You know, Clarence,

to the Bubis, nothing is as important as honoring your ancestors.

Remember that.

When you get to Sampaka ask for Simón.

He was Kilian's houseboy for all those years

and he was also Manuel's contact for the money

that was being sent to Guinea this whole time.

He might put you in touch with someone just a little older than you

called Fernando.

It shouldn't be too hard, that place is as small as this valley.

I will make sure she gets your money.

She and her children are fine thanks to what you send.

January 18th, 1954.

Dear Catalina...

I stared at our house's façade as if I was trying to memorise every detail.

Kilian! Hurry up!

You've still got time.

Don't worry about me, I'm fine.

Come on.

There are no men left in our house.

If only it wasn't so far away.

Six thousand kilometers is nothing, Mum.

We should continue on skis.

We'd better say goodbye now.

Just in case you get hungry.

I'm really going to miss you.

Write in this when you think of me.

That way I can read everything when you get back.

Thank you.

- Take care of your brother. - Yes.

Come back soon.

Goodbye, Mum.

I don't understand why this language is written one way and pronounced another.

You won't have to write to the Nigerians.

I've underlined everything you need to know.

Jacobo, what do you know about life in this country?

Nothing.

I can't wait to see the sea.

February 2, 1954.

Dear Catalina, there's not long left until we reach Guinea.

We ran into Manuel Ruiz on board.

I already knew him from Santa Isabel Hospital.

He's going to be the new doctor on the estate.

I can't wait to get to my birthplace and discover indigenous Guinea.

The real Guinea.

If anything is left of it.

What do you think?

He's speechless!

See all those black people? They're all the same.

Just like sheep, you won't be able

to tell them apart until a few months from now.

Father.

Jacobo.

- Welcome to your birthplace, Son. - Thank you.

How are you?

Are you alright?

Yes, I'm fine. This last campaign was harder than we expected.

This suitcase is full of things Mum packed for you.

I am sure you'll be feeling better in no time.

Good afternoon.

This is my son Kilian and that's Manuel, the estate's new doctor.

Welcome. And thank you for the package.

First lesson, Kilian, you have to keep the guards happy.

Every now and again give them cigarettes,

whisky, eggs, whatever.

The happier you keep them,

the faster they'll come when you need them.

Enough lessons. And let Osë drive.

I don't think the boss would like to see you driving his car.

Garuz won't know, will he, Osë?

Come on.

Everything appears to be in order.

How is it that a young man with a promising future like you

prefers the colony to Madrid? Thank you.

Well, my second vocation is Botany.

I'd like to study the local plant species and their medical applications.

I'm not sure you'll have time for that.

And you, young man?

We need energetic and decisive people around here.

You'll spend the first two weeks focussed on learning.

Observe your colleagues, do as they do.

You'll be going to Obsay with Gregorio.

But won't he with me at Yacato?

Obsay is not working as well as it should. A new person will be good.

Yes, sir.

Treat the workers with authority but also justice.

If you don't resolve issues properly, you'll lose their respect.

Thank you, Mr Lorenzo.

- Antón, who is his houseboy? - Simón, the new one.

Don't let him get away with anything or he will come and go as he wishes.

That will be all.

- Good morning. - Thank you very much.

Obey.

I order you.

Come here.

I am the boss.

I am the boss.

Work.

You get to work!

- Massa the drum is sounding, wake up. - I'm coming. One moment.

I'm coming! One moment!

Simón, Massa. At your service.

It's still night time.

When the work starts it will be daytime.

In 10 minutes everybody will have to be standing outside.

- I'll help you get dressed. - Thanks, I can do it alone.

- I'll help. - I'll do it! Give me that.

Come on. Another minute and you won't get paid.

- Good luck. - That man who's coming with dad...

- is Gregorio. - Good morning.

You'd better behave with my boy.

Another Rabaltué. The whole family will be here soon.

Let's go, father. Bye.

20 men per brigade.

Start counting.

I am sick, Massa.

Every day the same old story!

Get to work.

Lies. They always lie. Come on. Excuses and superstitions.

What do you think your brother is carrying around that melongo rod for?

The owner wants his profits and it's our job to see that he gets them.

You're in charge of those... What the...?

- Snake! Snake! - What's the hell's wrong?

Snake!

Get up there and kill it.

Get up there!

Is this what you're afraid of?