por Enrique G. Figueroa Cabrero
4 de octubre de 2017


After nearly two weeks of criticism and public pressure, the billionaire “populist” president of the empire bravely traversed a very big ocean to visit, for almost 5 hours, its hurricane ravaged & debt ridden island colony of second-class legal citizens to practice his free throws inside a church while distributing paper towels to people in need and to lift their spirits, as any national leader would do, not only by reminding them to be proud that their suffering/hunger/loss of homes/infrastructure damage/death count is not “a real catastrophe” but also by “joking” as to how the relief effort to help them had thrown his “budget a little out of whack.” This, of course, after having to chastise the colony for wanting “everything done for them” while he rested from more governing setbacks at his private golf club. Although those who heard his joke remained serious, it was obvious that they were laughing. Maybe laughing on the inside. Laughing because of the great comedic timing of it all. Or maybe laughing to avoid crying. Or maybe they didn’t laugh...because it wasn’t really all that funny. But still, “help is needed so what’s wrong with letting these comments go by unchallenged and be preserved in the Annals of history? Food and water and aid are needed,” probably thought the pragmatists in the room. The president, sitting next to the colonial governor and surrounded by a small audience, congratulated him for “not playing politics” as he shook his hand in gratitude. They smiled and the president continued his remarks to the audience. Afterwards, the governor of the colonial government praised the president and, uninterested in commenting “on the optics” of the whole thing, highlighted that he can see “the action that he [the president] has taken to demonstrate that this is an emergency.”

In the meantime, the colonial citizenry attempted to reconcile the comments of their unelected legal leader with what they had themselves witnessed and experienced. They tried to reconcile it not just with their post-hurricane life but also with everything that they knew about themselves before that. They saw how they were seen. Many of their forefathers and foremothers had highlighted such truths to them and shared them in speeches, books, movies, songs, poetry, bad jokes, anecdotes, and family gatherings. “But that was back then. We’ve made a lot of progress since then,” they thought. At the same time, they remembered all of their neighbors, past and present, that had personified the opposite of what the president said. They remembered those that embodied dignity, character, respect, and commitment to their community as well as the ideal aspirations of their compatriots for a developed and more peaceful nation. They had argued and fought amongst each other throughout its existence. Of course they did. Their frustration for a better life at times even resulted in hurting one another by creating monsters of corruption, hypocrisy, inequality, disregard for others, and a dangerous closed heart and close-mindedness towards others. Which nation doesn’t? But, they also helped each other, within their means, in times of need as well as in the everyday. They shared stories of resilience and resignation with each other. Some, like the hurricane, focused on destruction. But many others also built, restored, protected, aspired, and worked. They worked for a more just society, for a richer culture, and for the preservation and growth of their history. Like their non-colonial legal siblings, they worked for a better life, for their family and friends, for having good memories. In the end, they worked for being able to live a good life. No matter the devastation, they knew this. They lived this. They shared this. Yet, it has been denied as a truth by their temperamental legal leader during his visit to assure help and aid during this historical crisis.

As the president departed their home, many on and off the island were left wondering: "Is this real life… or just a badly written story?"