Political Prisoners of the Empire  MIAMI 5      

     

 N A T I O N A L

Havana. March 30, 2005

For the first time

BY RAISA PAGES—Granma International staff writer—

HER curly blonde hair tumbled over her pionera (young pioneer) blue neck scarf. A few days earlier, she had arrived home from school to breathlessly announce that she had been chosen to guard the ballot box.

In her gleaming shoes, Fany took up a posture conferring a solemn appearance on her 10 years. Her green eyes sparkled whenever a friend or relative went to deposit their vote. Fany’s blonde hair, contrasting with her green eyes, reminded me of the girl dressed up as a sunflower at the play performed at Fany’s elementary school, where biographies and photos of constituency candidates were posted during the electoral period.

Now, I see the same curled blonde hair, but this time Fany is no longer guarding ballot boxes as a pionera. In the course of time, the schoolgirl became an Informatics student at the Osvaldo Herrera Polytechnic in the Cuban capital.

I was going to buy bread when I met her reading the candidates’ biographies, posted in the neighborhood market, another place where people can find information on the four Popular Power delegates standing in this constituency.

Gerardo, a child with lively eyes and long black arms, who accompanied her in guarding the ballot box, approached sweating from sports practice. Greetings between the two peers prompted him to look at the candidates’ postings too, with memories of the childhood they shared at the same school.

­“And what does the best computer specialist in Cuba have to say?” the young man asked.

“Studying, studying and more studying. Do you have an invite to Madelín’s party?”

­­“I can't go; I have to train very hard this weekend,” he replied.

“See them?” she asked, pointing at the biographies.

­­“Yes, but we’re no longer in pioneros uniforms; now we’ll be dropping our own slips in the ballot box,” Gerardo rejoined.

“You should have seen them at home when they came with the lists to verify my name. My father was so surprised you’d think he’d been told I was getting married. ‘Fany can vote already?’ He still thinks I’m a little girl.

“That’s because they don’t want to accept they are getting old!” Gerardo observed, looking at the photographs.

“You know how my grandfather’s obsessed with me. He’s always asking me where I’m going and what time I’ll be back. Just to tease him, the other day I asked him, ‘Will you come with me for my first time?’”

­“What first time, kid?” her perplexed grandfather asked, recalling his days as a Casanova.

“To vote, grandpa, to vote!”

“Hey, you can vote already?!”he said with a naughty smile.

“Grandpa!!”
 

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