Una tarde escucharon que en la ciudad había un concurso de Bandas de Cumbia y el premio ganador era un viaje por las Islas del caribe:

_Tal vez si ensayamos desde ahorita, podamos hacer una buena presentación - asomó Kalani a sus hermanas.

_Me parece perfecto. Tal vez no ocupemos el primer lugar, pero será genial participar - aseguró Holly, pero Wendy, no dudó:

_¿No ganar? Claro que ganaremos. Somos las hijas de Lucho Peralta y eso se lleva en la sangre - afirmó sin miedo.

Aunque le pidieron ayuda al padre, las hermanas no daban pie con bola: cada ensayo era peor. Los instrumentos parecían gritar en las manos de aquellas mujeres, que al parecer también eran sordas, porque al final de cada día, con orgullo decían:

_¡Cada día lo hacemos mejor!

Al pobre maestro Peralta, más que pena, lo embargaba una resignación:

_No tienen por qué seguir mis pasos. Conmigo se acaba la fama de los Peralta. Y está bien.

El día del concurso, luego de que varios grupos tuvieron su participación, subió al escenario el trío de hermanas Peralta. Con una sonrisa en el rostro, cada una comenzó a tocar los instrumentos. El jurado no entendía lo que estaba pasando: aquellas muchachas eran tan malas intérpretes, que debía ser un chiste su participación.

Las hermanas Peralta vieron la incredulidad de los jueces y creyeron que se la estaban comiendo: entonces tocaron con más ánimo, con más desfachatez. El público se reía a carcajada por las desafinadas voces, pero también por la poca vergüenza de las chicas, las cuales tocaban como si fueran grandes estrellas.

Al final, cada uno de los grupos se posicionó en el escenario y el público los fue aplaudiendo. Cuando las hermanas Peralta daban un pasó al frente, el público las ovacionada. Los jueces no tuvieron más remedio que declararlas ganadoras: eran tan malas cantantes, que como malas, eran buenas.

Cuando las entrevistaron, sin ningún tapujo, las hermanas dijeron:

_¡Sabíamos que ganaríamos. La música la llevamos en la sangre! - dijeron y la gente aplaudía y se reía creyendo que era chiste, porque si la música la tenían en la sangre, entonces tenían mala circulación.

HASTA UNA PRÓXIMA OPORTUNIDAD, AMIGOS

La imagen principal está editada en Canva y el texto fue traducido con Deepl Translate

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![Click here to read in englis]
No fear of success
There were three of them, ugly and pretentious, the daughters of maestro Lucho Peralta, a great musician from the town of Cumaná. Unlike their father, who was a talented artist, the Peralta sisters lacked talent. Kalani, the eldest, no matter how much time she devoted to music, was more out of tune than a boy's whistle at a party. Their father had given her lessons since she was a child, trying to sow the seed of music, but old Lucho soon realized that he was wasting his time: Kalani did not develop her musical gifts no matter how hard she tried.
There was also Holly, Don Lucho's second daughter, who was in a band only because her father asked them to accept her for a while, but when the group went on tour, they left Holly behind. >Don Lucho paid for Holly to go on tour with them and even argued in favor of his daughter:
“If she goes with you, she'll gain experience and maybe become a better musician,” but the director excused himself, saying he couldn't afford to take a beginner who still couldn't tell the difference between a cuatro and a mandolin.
And finally, there was Wendy, Don Lucho's youngest and most spoiled daughter, who was conceited and lived in her father's shadow:
“I am the daughter of Don Lucho Peralta, the best musician in these parts,” Wendy would say by way of introduction, as if being the daughter of the great musician not only meant that doors should be opened for her, but also that she had inherited his talent:
“Sometimes I have to hide from the paparazzi: it overwhelms me to be so famous,” Wendy said, pouting like a spoiled child, and her father laughed at her witticisms, although half the town whispered behind her back:
"The only thing artistic about them are their names, because as for talent: nothing. Poor maestro Lucho. It's true that the cobbler's children have no shoes," said the others, who didn't tell Lucho what they thought to his face, not because they were afraid, but because they respected him.
One afternoon, they heard that there was a cumbia band contest in the city and the prize was a trip to the Caribbean Islands:
“Maybe if we start rehearsing now, we can put on a good show,” Kalani suggested to her sisters.
“Sounds perfect to me. We may not win first place, but it'll be great to participate,” Holly assured her, but Wendy had no doubts:
“Not win? Of course we'll win. We're Lucho Peralta's daughters, and that's in our blood,” she said fearlessly.
Although they asked their father for help, the sisters couldn't get it right: each rehearsal was worse than the last. The instruments seemed to scream in the hands of those women, who apparently were also deaf, because at the end of each day, they proudly said:
Every day we do better.
Poor Maestro Peralta was overcome not so much with sadness as with resignation:
They don't have to follow in my footsteps. With me, the Peralta family's fame comes to an end. And that's fine.
On the day of the competition, after several groups had performed, the trio of Peralta sisters took to the stage. With smiles on their faces, each one began to play their instruments. >The judges didn't understand what was happening: these girls were such bad performers that their participation must be a joke.
The Peralta sisters saw the judges' disbelief and thought they were fooling them, so they played with more enthusiasm and more brazenness. The audience laughed out loud at the out-of-tune voices, but also at the girls' lack of shame, as they played as if they were big stars.
At the end, each of the groups took their place on stage and the audience applauded them. When the Peralta sisters stepped forward, the audience cheered them on. The judges had no choice but to declare them the winners: they were such bad singers that, as bad singers, they were good.
When they were interviewed, the sisters said without hesitation:
“We knew we would win. Music is in our blood,” they said, and the audience applauded and laughed, thinking it was a joke. Because if music was in their blood, then they had poor circulation.