Fuego en La Sangre is the first telenovela I ever watched. It didn’t go off the air all that long ago, but I recently discovered that it is re-airing on Telefutura. Nostalgic for time barely passed, I started recording it.
Fuego is the novela my husband and I fell in love to; it was playing in the background on our first date (at my first authentic Mexican restaurant) and was a part of our lives from then on. Whenever I would spend the evening at his place, I would end up watching it with all of his roommates. When he spent the evenings with me, I would try to decipher what was going on, often making him laugh pretty hard at my misinterpretations. We always had a good time making fun of the disparities in time and technology. Fuego took place in a strange world where half the show seemed to be in a different century than the rest. Conservatively dressed women ran around their hacienda and rode horses for transportation while in the next scene there would be a stripper/pop star performing amidst neon and pyrotechnic displays and evil men menacingly driving their SUV’s.
I never fully understood the show, but I reached the point where I was able to follow it well enough. The drama really got me; I would become so angry with the characters that I would want to scream, The scenery was always enchanting enough that when I did not understand or the episode was nothing to feel passionate about, I still was content watching it. I became strangely attached to the show; I suppose it was comforting in that it was part of he and I and part of our routine. While I did not expect it, I was sad when it ended.
Watching it this second time, I find I am not nearly as into it. Occasionally, I watch a scene and I am taken back to some little moment with my husband; other than that, it mainly serves as background noise.
However, I am all about Teresa right now.