Forbidden dreams

FROM CUBA
Forbidden dreams

Rafael Ferro Salas

PINAR DEL RIO, Cuba - May (www.cubanet.org) - Dionisio Herrera Rodríguez
is 55 years old. He's worked as a bus driver for a quarter of a century.
Dionisio had a dream which they shattered.

He knew that new buses had come to this province. He works as a bus
driver for public transportation and in his entire career, he's had no
traffic accidents. Enough merits to deserve one of the new coaches that
arrived. At least he thought that and began preparing his dream.

The buses were delivered to the drivers but they didn't include Dionisio
in the distribution, and then the nightly dream became a constant nightmare.

"It was an injustice," he told me. "I deserved one of those coaches, the
very workers were sure of it. I've always had a perfect attitude in my
occupation. I had a right to dream that I would drive one of the new
buses, but they shattered my dream overnight."

He pauses and wipes the sweat from his forehead with a handerkerchief he
takes out of his pocket. The afternoon progresses and the sun shines
into the living room of the house. Outside cars pass by indifferently,
the people, too. The old driver continues speaking:

"When the distribution of the equipment was over I went to the
administration of my urban transportation company. They nearly refused
to see me. I think they were embarassed to explain the reasons to me.
Then the subdirector told me to go into the office and there he
explained the reasons they understood to be correct for not giving me a
new bus."

Another pause and he puts away the handkerchief, although he keeps
sweating. Now he lights a cigarette and smokes nervously. He blows out
the smoke looking at the ceiling of the house and says to me:

"You're probably going to laugh at what I'm going to say, reporter, but
the first reason those in the administration gave me to justify not
giving me the coach was that I'm not a member of the Communist Party.
What do you think of that?"

I smile and nod my head in assent, as if I already knew that. In Cuba
it's normal for you to be denied a job or any kind of opportunity to
improve your life if you're not a member of the Communist Party or other
government organizations. Now I'm beginning to understand the cause of
the nightmare Dionisio is living. He throws the cigarette butt out the
window and after exhaling the smoke from his lungs, he keeps talking.

"The second reason they gave me was that I am the father of an opponent
of the Cuban government. My son is named Ornel Herrera Padrón..."

Eliosbel Garriga Cabrera, a correspondent of Abdala Press who is with
me, interrrupts him to tell me that Ornel belongs to the Movement for
Racial Integration over which he presides in the province.

"It's like I say, reporter; overnight they end a man's only dream in his
life. What they did to me hurt my son a great deal, but I told him it
wasn't his fault. I'm not going to allow my boy to change his way of
thinking for any reason on this earth. I'm prepared to keep swallowing
bitter mouthfuls and putting up with injustices, but my son will
continue to think as he believes."

Eliosbel and I said our goodbyes and went out into the street. The
afternoon kept progressing. As we crossed the street corner we saw one
of the recently arrived buses pass by. We looked at each other without
talking. We looked back to the other side of the street where Dionisio's
house was and saw him in the doorway. The bus passed in front of his
house and he didn't want to look at it. He entered the house lowering
his head, as if looking for something that they had suddenly taken away
from him. Then I was able to realize all the sadness that a man with
shattered dreams bears.

http://www.cubanet.org/CNews/y06/jun06/02e1.htm