El Sexto - Danilo Maldonado Machado, Translator: Unstated
In these days of waiting for the Pope, everything around me is tense.
I start to leave my phone at home.
They followed me from before the presentation of Voices Magazine Number 14.
But it is only persecution, at least they want you to think.
I thought it wouldn't be for some graffiti artist.
Occasionally I can slip out among my friends and shake off the guard.
Although it is a super uncomfortable situation and full of stress, it's
already so common for me to be followed by them they I'm not afraid and
can shout at them, things like dogs, snitches, pawns, and so on.
I got used to it and, as my ex says, what doesn't kill you makes you
stronger.
It was Sunday, March 26, my sister Indira's birthday, and seeing State
Security was barely 20 yards from my door, I didn't want to leave the
house. I took it as a threat not to leave. But they slept outside all
night and that worried me a lot and I felt some fear.
The next day, March 27 at 1:00 pm I saw them at the corner of my house
with cardboard in the windows of the car, so that the sun doesn't bother
them, I think. It was the same red car as the day before. I had to go
out to make a phone call, I did, in shorts, a shirt and sandals, heading
away from them. I'd barely walked 15 yards when I could sense them
starting up the car around the corner.
They came up behind me, grabbed me by force and shoved me inside the car
between two guys dressed in civilian clothes. Car rules: Hands between
the feet and eyes forward! They snatched the phone out of my hands.
DO NOT TURN IT OFF! they said.
The car with three officers took me to Vedado, 26th and 17th, where they
stopped, made calls on their cell phones, and in 5 minutes a Suzuki
motorcycle and the usual "persecution car" showed up (a green Lada make
with private license plates): with that Camilo. On the way he told me,
"Today you're playing Capablanca [the grandmaster] at chess." Driving
down Boyeros Avenue you could see all the "makeup" they'd applied, for
obvious reasons.
I thought why are they doing this to me if they don't want to damage the
Pope, and I'm not some trash you can sweep under the carpet. When we got
to the station at Santiago de las Vegas Camilo got out and when he
returned they took me in through the back. As they were leaving me there
a policeman told Camilo he was needed for another arrest. Camilo
disappeared.
When they transferred me to the cells I saw a man dressed in black, a
gentleman I would come to know later, it was Julio, the husband of Sara
Marta, Lady in White, opponents from Rio Verde. As we were not in the
same cell we were talking from a distance. He told me that he had seen
me on the Estado de Sats program, and that he'd been there since Friday
with eating or drinking water (a hunger strike). I was just starting my
time and I felt bad already, but being locked up there for no reason
gave me strength. Julio told me this his wife had also been kidnapped
and he thought they had taken her to Cotorro incommunicado.
The next day opponents became to arrive from the Santiago de las Vegas
police station, all on hunger strike: 14 in total, including 3 women
whom I only sensed and heard their voices. Those of us there had
opinions in common. The chorus of "Freedom!" became so strong we were
encouraged to also shout "Down with the Dictatorship," "Down with Raul,"
"Long Live Human Rights"…
The police asked up please, if we wanted we could shout, but not to go
near the bars. For us they were invisible. I met Bartolo, El Deje, all
very affable and I felt find, because we talked as if we'd known each
other all our lives.
The registered me as a criminal: many photos of my body and finger
prints and something odd: the shoe size.
The next day I felt dizzy. I asked Julio how he felt and he said fine. I
was taken to the doctor who tested my sugar, which was low as was my
blood pressure. The doctors were worried, telling me, "You don't have
the physical strength to do this. Eat!" Nor am I a murderer, but I am
here because you want me to be, I answered. On returning from the exam I
gave to alcohol swab to Julio, he shook my hand but I felt he was sick.
In the evening I left the dungeon. There were about 20 patrol cars
outside the station. Coincidentally Julio andI were put in the same car
and they transported us. The order was to leave us a few blocks from our
respective houses. He got out at Boyeros, near Mazorra, and I at Arroyo
Arenas.
They gave me my phone and there were no texts or missed calls. When it
rang it was the wife of Ismael de Diego, I told her I was already out.
She told me that when she called my phone, an officer answered.
This is my humble testimony. I don't people who had it a lot worse. The
government should avoid and fear these hunger strikes in chains… Lest
they kill more innocents and fall into the muck once and for all. I hope
the world learns of all the kidnappings and sees behind the false image
this tyranny wants to give to the Pope and the foreign press.
Down with the Castros! Down with Communism!
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