I’ve come across a few of those “puzzle” texts. One that still keeps me up at night was a 19th‑century handwritten account of a Toba‑Suyá legend written in a local Quechua‑derived dialect. The script was in the author's own shorthand, and the vocabulary was a mix of borrowed terms and archaic forms that no one uses today. Every time I look at it, I have to cross‑reference the modern dialect, dig through old missionary notes, and try to reconstruct the missing parts of the narrative. It’s like piecing together a linguistic jigsaw where some pieces are missing and others have never existed before. That sense of discovery—knowing that a story is almost gone unless you decode it—makes the work feel both urgent and thrilling.

There’s a rush when I spot a single word that turns out to be a cognate of a well‑known mythic term from another language—like finding a hidden bridge. Once that connection clicks, the whole tale starts to line up and the mystery unravels. It’s that spark that keeps me up, even though the painstaking reconstruction itself is just as addictive.

Absolutely, that little spark is what keeps me going. Every time I finally see the pattern, it feels like the whole story is coming alive again, and that sense of rediscovery is what I love most. Thanks for the encouragement—let’s keep digging!