By Manuel Vázquez Portal
HAVANA (Grupo de Trabajo Decoro) - I met Magda in a cafeteria where she was
eating for the first time with "remittances from abroad" in an
establishment. Her look was between one of worry and one of pride. The clothes
she was wearing for the first time were proof of her sudden access to the world
of shopping.
"Hello," I said to her. "Hello," she replied. My
greeting, a simple courtesy, encouraged her. She spoke without hesitation. "My
sister left four months ago," she said as she savored a soft drink.
She looked me over slowly. My clothes, my shoes, my glasses. Maybe she was
trying to determine if I belonged to the class of people which she had recently
joined. I don’t think she felt that she fit in. "What do you do?"
she asked. "I’m a journalist," I replied. I felt her alarm. "Independent,"
I added. I believe she relaxed. She bit on a pastry with certain affectation.
"It’s better to have a relative overseas than to have a university
degree," she said. "How much does a professional earn in Cuba?
Nothing. Any remittance from abroad is much greater than the salary of any
specialist."
Her language and way of expressing herself put me on guard. The political
police adopt many forms of acting. I couldn’t allow myself the luxury of
speaking openly with a stranger, even though she was dressed like a beautiful
girl with new clothes. "If you say so," I said, putting some distance
in my voice.
"You’re afraid," she said. "We’re all afraid."
She spoke with no fear of my reaction. She finished her snack, wiped away some
crumbs that had fallen on her jeans and left.
"We’re all afraid." I repeated her words to myself. Is it
true that we’re all afraid? Am I afraid? What I do, week after week, year
after year, gives me a bit of courage. Don’t I have to overcome fear every
day of my life?
Poor girl, she doesn’t know that. Poor me. I didn’t have the
courage to tell her. If she were an agent, would it be courage or naiveté?
It’s better this way. The difference is I do, although I can’t say so
to the first person who prompts me. It’s better what I do than what people
might think I do. I ground out my cigarette in the ashtray and left happy,
thinking that people know we’re all afraid but that we’re losing that
fear, at least when we dare to speak to a stranger.
Versión
original en español
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