Trinidad Boira (Personaje)
Publicado: 19 Nov 2022, 21:51
Mi primer wraith:
MORTAL LIFE
Trinidad Boira Penyaroja was born in Havana in the middle of the past century. During the hard days of her childhood, she witnessed the rise of the revolution, the war and the new communist regime. She suffered, as many others, she lost some relatives, but she endured the post-war famine and repression. The promised communist paradise never came, instead, they found another oligarchy, a system as dangerous as capitalism was for their citizens. The tensions with the USA rose high and any dissension was firmly suppressed. Like many others, she dreamed of flying away, migrating to a new country, one with Liberty and Freedom and many other civil rights.
She did not, she was afraid. Many of her colleagues tried, and most of them died in the waters of the Caribbean Sea. She graduated in “historia del arte” in the Universidad de La Habana. But being an artist was never easy, neither a woman or a citizen in a totalitarian regime and she was regarded with suspicion. She ended grinded by the mechanisms of the machine, she ended in poverty, badly ill, having to choose between becoming homeless or spending her last savings in a dealer who promised her an easy way to the shores of Miami.
She gambled with her life, she bet on a dream in a new world, a dream of a future, a dream that never came. The contrabandist that was going to send them to Florida, abandoned them many miles away from the coast in a sinking ship, 30 people were there. Children, mothers, teenagers. Many died from dehydration after drinking sea water. The cries of the babies never ended. The boat floated for weeks before the USA coast patrol found them. A few of them were barely alive, they died in the hospital, as they did not have an insurance card and could not afford the treatment.
The corpse of Trinidad was never found, maybe she finally got to the shores of Florida. Maybe she sank in the deepest darkness of an ocean that had become a mass grave.
MORTAL LIFE
Trinidad Boira Penyaroja was born in Havana in the middle of the past century. During the hard days of her childhood, she witnessed the rise of the revolution, the war and the new communist regime. She suffered, as many others, she lost some relatives, but she endured the post-war famine and repression. The promised communist paradise never came, instead, they found another oligarchy, a system as dangerous as capitalism was for their citizens. The tensions with the USA rose high and any dissension was firmly suppressed. Like many others, she dreamed of flying away, migrating to a new country, one with Liberty and Freedom and many other civil rights.
She did not, she was afraid. Many of her colleagues tried, and most of them died in the waters of the Caribbean Sea. She graduated in “historia del arte” in the Universidad de La Habana. But being an artist was never easy, neither a woman or a citizen in a totalitarian regime and she was regarded with suspicion. She ended grinded by the mechanisms of the machine, she ended in poverty, badly ill, having to choose between becoming homeless or spending her last savings in a dealer who promised her an easy way to the shores of Miami.
She gambled with her life, she bet on a dream in a new world, a dream of a future, a dream that never came. The contrabandist that was going to send them to Florida, abandoned them many miles away from the coast in a sinking ship, 30 people were there. Children, mothers, teenagers. Many died from dehydration after drinking sea water. The cries of the babies never ended. The boat floated for weeks before the USA coast patrol found them. A few of them were barely alive, they died in the hospital, as they did not have an insurance card and could not afford the treatment.
The corpse of Trinidad was never found, maybe she finally got to the shores of Florida. Maybe she sank in the deepest darkness of an ocean that had become a mass grave.