I never expected to hear such words coming from her mouth. She’s part of a generation that today fills the media with words instilling ideals of patriotism, revolution, honesty, spirituality and material indifference among the younger generation.
As I jot down this diary entry, through the window that opens onto my father’s house is floating in the savory aroma of succulent roast pork. It seems we’ll be eating better for a while, because that platter will last for several days, with a little help from rice, beans and avocados.
When I got in I realized there were few unoccupied seats. Where she was sitting there was one, but out of fear of appearing too forward, I hesitated from taking it. However, the speed with which the seats continued to fill made me react, so I went ahead and plopped down beside her.
It’s true that other ways exist for relaxing, but those too have become somewhat difficult given the lack of money, the shortage of things and the deterioration our society is suffering in terms of services.
It’s true that education and health services are free, but that’s only half the story. The leaders only distribute -albeit fairly equally- according to the budget of a revolution that up to now we’ve supported. That’s why I believe that the government doesn’t “give” us anything.
Yesterday I visited my aunt Mamita; it was her birthday. Before knocking on their door, I imagined she’d be in a festival mood, celebrating with friends and relatives.
Days later my friend Dr. Raquel insinuated to me that Conrado was one of those doctors that graduate “by the skin of their teeth” and that are very self-serving, because they spend their time negotiating gifts from patients instead of giving them medical treatment – as they should.
Finally, after three hours, my wait bore fruit. The doors that had allowed so many people step through had opened for me. I was received by Conrado, an average looking man except for the clothes he wore. Instead of the usual doctors’ coat, he was dressed in a santería “iyabó.”
A month ago today I had an accident in my backyard. As I was trying to repair the concrete perimeter wall by myself – foolishly – an over 200 kilo slab fell on my left leg. I was lucky, because if it hadn’t fallen diagonally I’d be writing this story without toes, and I’d have to sign this diary as Osmel the cripple.
It turned out that I was the one who bothered a very full-sized woman who, along with her daughter – also obese – was beside the door. When I passed by her, my backpack got tangled up with her purse, and she thought I was trying to steal it.