Nursing babies with pacifiers

 

In this awkward civic childhood I need to ask permission for almost everything, I cannot just become an adult. Before, it was my parents who watched to make sure I didn’t swallow a screw, or put my fingers in the electrical outlet, now the supervision comes from the state. Under the “protection” of this rigid guardian, there is not much room for little games or frolicking; much less to be left alone.

These days I see myself as a baby in diapers, while I wait for permission to travel to Madrid to collect the Ortega y Gasset prize. Permission to fly tomorrow, Saturday, May 3rd, – Cuba’s official “Day of Press Freedom” – was “detained” by a mysterious Headquarters of Immigration and Foreigners who gave me no explanations.  For this powerful institution, I remain an infant to whom they cannot say: you are going to get an injection.

I am eager to grow up, to become an adult, who can come and go from home without permission.

Sign text:  Congratulations Papa.  I promise you good grades.

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