It feels like coming back home. Not everyone is able to let some trace on our soul. In the case of my math teachers; I would mention just a few: M. Saralegi, F. Dalmagro and C. Diprisco. Those three names mean a lot to me: Respectively, the researcher, the father and the scientific I dreamed to become years ago.
From the first I learned to go to the basics as frequently as needeed. Doing math is like playing basball: It ain’t over till it’s over.
From the second, that maths use to be like women (at least for me that makes sense). In our years of youth, they are elusive and difficult. But, as time goes by and we come back to them, we find them more beautiful, more interesting, more indulgent. And we are older, and have learned some tricks.
From the third, I learned to wait. Sometimes, it is just not the day to do something; and some researchs are like a Brahms concert, they must wait for us. They need all our maturity. Youth is a kind of illness from which one gets better in time.
So, 15 years later, I’m back to ZFC. And I’m enjoying all its wonderful beauty. Have a little bottle of love potion number $\alehp_0$ in my pocket. Just in case…