Havana Cuba. — Another fateful month of May for Cuba and a Mother’s day saddened by the tragedy. I believe that this will never be a time for joy again, not when more deaths continue to accumulate where there have already been too many with the pandemic and the mass exodus that tends to become the largest in our national history. How much pain for a country that has not stopped suffering since I can remember.
When it seemed that the situation could not sink us to more critical depths, the tragedy that no one imagined arrives. We thought that with the crisis exacerbated by COVID-19 we had hit rock bottom, but therein lies the nightmare of Saratoga hotelthe trauma of knowing that any of us could have been there where now only ruins and traces of death remain.
How much restlessness, how much uncertainty, how much sadness for us who are already fed up with loss, destruction, fear, the desire to close our eyes to open them again and discover that this succession of calamities is not just a nightmare that will end when someone wakes up. day not far away
Today Cuba is in full mourning despite a national mourning that they do not declare or that they have taken too long to declare for who knows what reasons I do not understand, that I will never understand.
Yesterday and today I wanted to write about realities that make me angry, about things that come to my mind about what happened, many doubts and fears, some certainties and claims. Analyze, as a healthy exercise in civility, what, trying to keep a distance and always questioning, I have seen and heard from various places and sources. I wanted and needed to write and share many ideas and facts that we are discussing today in our homes and neighborhoods because nobody on the Island talks about anything other than the Saratoga explosion, because it is not possible to stop doing so in the midst of so much sorrow.
How many things have been said to date about what happened and how many have not been said. Death and evil seem to roam everywhere. I don’t know, I only think of previous, old, recent tragedies, about which I still have hundreds of unanswered questions, despite the fact that they once promised answers. I’m still waiting but I still try to answer them on my own.
From anger and sadness, from pain, it is not possible to reason with the clarity that the best journalism demands, much less to be understood, not in a context where it becomes very dangerous to ask certain questions, and more so when they are addressed to certain persons. I stop, besides, this is not the moment because I can cause more pain than we already feel.
Now, as when facing any trauma, it is necessary to let time pass, although not with the intention of forgetting, but rather to let the mind cool down and organize the elements it has collected in the midst of a maelstrom of information and misinformation. Then only then can I discuss things that need to be discussed among all of us.
At this time, I don’t think there is anything more useful than putting our thoughts on those who are recovering in hospitals, on those who did not survive, on the families in mourning, on the need to demand that something like this does not happen again because, at this time when that pain and compassion unites us, to save ourselves as a nation we are obliged to reconcile beyond our ideologies, to heal as a nation that suffers and that cries out for a change with everyone and for the good of all.
OPINION ARTICLE
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