pity searcher, sharing story

A while went on since last time I could put some words on written thoughts. Time has turned faster somehow. Most of the hours I’m supposed to work I’m actually working, maybe that’s why…

A couple of months ago I’ve got some minutes so I could play writer. Well, the ones I’m taking for writing this come from a duty I’m delaying because my boss had to leave and, for now, she’s not behind me watching my screen. The problem, and it actually bothers me, it is this sort of sense of responsibility I cannot just get over, so there’s a voice telling me this should not be longer.

This might be a reason, a reason why some of us won´t focus more on the things we like to; these things we usually dedicate lots of thoughts. I had in my mind a couple of great things to tell, and I just forgot them, completely, I’m just using this time, as started saying, to put some words of written thoughts…

An important politician has escaped from the country, he’s now in Spain and there are these low quality fake news on saying, more or less, that he, from abroad, will claim the presidency of Venezuela as the leader of the coalition we call Oposición. So you can see even the fake news have lost quality, just like the government, which never had but this is different; our media is pretty much replicating arguments very few people believe and now so many just quit being interested. The face of many look like when hearing a bad joke which end is already known; by everyone, because it’s been told too much. I mean, people are not only bored but also tired and offended and those feelings together weighs quite some. In my case for example it’s on my shoulders, I’m always needing to have a seat, like carrying a back pack …

I’m back two days later. This is a process but I’ve found some to say: I still have a car. I say still because it is something nowadays. I know I should sell it but I have this hang on sort of feeling that won’t let me, so I’m leaving my bonuses on it. I know I sound selfish, too much I, me and my and this is not a pity searcher writing, it isn’t, this is more like sharing story writing.

I took the subway yesterday because there were no available buses, which it’s interesting in a city that it’s not entirely covered by the underground transportation. Many people rely on buses; cabs became too expensive, too expensive for someone who’s just going, for example, to do a shift at an everyday job, so, given the circumstances, you could see a lot of people standing, not for, but at; bank entrances, ATM machines, bakery stores and now, bus stops too. This could be why we’re all pretty much used to not being so strict with the timekeeping. We’ve finally become the jokes we once told each other to make fun. Few years ago we said such a behavior belonged to Venezuelan’s way, now it is the consequence of all these measures and responds… El Metro, that´s how we call our subway, was crowded; always, now with many more people to whom a deodorant and a perfume are simply unaffordable; you all get the idea of this: the breathing, the heat, the smelling, the disappointment, perhaps the sadness or maybe some anger but wrongly conveyed; you could notice and also feel it: how the environment and people’s mood actually talk through the expression of their faces, and that’s when the moment stopped…

The moment became memory; at least I would like to with these words, this post. I saw hope, I saw a girl with hope on her face. I didn’t talk to her, I didn’t stare at her either, just felt her that way, so I told myself why not being hopeful too. In the end, the situation won’t get any better with the anger and I’m pretty much tired. I’ll try to be more interesting next time. Thanks!

Cupo

There’s a word we put in context when talking about warranty: tutelage. You see, the people, at least here in Venezuela and as figure of speech, give away their rights, so The State can manage them in order to balance (or try to) the society. Perhaps this is what Montesquieu implied; we use it that way, and I’m telling you such to make myself explained at saying when someone asks for a service, and the one who is to serve agrees, there comes an establishment of rights and an obligations (and the treat can be set just with a handshake. I heard it at law school) which gets, let’s say, sealed, by signing a paper. What’s my point? We live in a moment where a cell phone costs more than two hundred dollars, we do, but the average salary here is maybe over thirty dollars or even less than that, so; as you can see, a mobile could cost a year, a year few can have.

It wasn’t always like that. Ten years ago we flattered each other with the cupo: this sort of bonus in dollars Venezuelans used to have. And of course, everyone had a two hundred smartphone or higher. It was that way until 2012 perhaps. It doesn’t matter, the point is that it’s over, and, since people are not able to get a new phone, a whole world of repairers have emerged. It seems ok in words, but the problem is that these fixers are not certified, because there’s no such thing here. Many of them are just guys that disarm the device and replace the parts. They may not be real technicians, I mean and of course, there are no warranties…

My cell stopped working. I went to one of these tiny stores with a kind of technician to see if I can have cell phone again, otherwise I’ll have to wait several months; fewer than many because I do many things for it. I went there, they made me sign an agreement paper, they showed themselves very pro and a week went by…

I called them several times during the week and the only answer was a selection of delays; some understandable (because we are here) and some not so much. The week ended yesterday and I decided to show myself at the store. I must say it was a terrible week, you guys may feel me, because you do know the importance of the smartphone: the news, the councils, the translations, the wife, the mother and so on… once they checked my part of the paper and found my phone, a girl (and I’m keeping to myself the words I have for her, only because I consider myself a gentleman) looked at me and, wearing a gesture as she was bored because of me, she said to my face: it cannot be repaired…

This could be a joke to laugh about in any other time but, at this moment, it is a tragedy. I told her with the anger in my eyes why, why they took a week to tell me so if they could have said it days behind, she just did a pressing movement with her lips. I guess she was trying to say she didn´t know without using words…

Tutelage became a privilege. The State has removed us from any action to take. How about where you are? You will probably settle, which is accurate in this kind of cases. Here if you are violent enough you may probable hit the guys and spit on the girl’s face but I’m not that kind. I’m not even angry at them. I’m angry because there’s nothing to do but trying somewhere else to see if I get lucky this time… and this is pretty much what happens among people’s interactions…