_Este es el único que existe en esta parte del país. Ya casi nadie viene, aquí todos se van - expresó y me acompañó a la recepción. Por la mirada de la mujer que nos recibió, inferí que estaba extrañada de verme, pero Leoncio le explicó que solo estaba de paso y luego de entregarme la llave, me dijo que estaría por la playa, como todos, por si lo necesitaba.
o0o
Luego de bañarme, y a pesar de que estaba cansado, preferí dar una vuelta. El silencio que había en el hotel era prueba de que estaba solo y que yo era el único huésped. También me sorprendí los pocos carros que transitaban a esa hora y hasta parecía que los árboles no se movían. Sin pensarlo mucho, caminé hacia la playa y allí hallé, frente al horizonte, cantidades de personas sentadas en la arena, mirando el firmamento, como si fueran estatuas. De una de las esquinas, vi unos brazos alzados que me hacían señas: era Leoncio. Así que caminé hasta él y me senté a su lado.
Fue ahí que Leoncio me dijo que esperaban unos buques y unos submarinos que venían desde lejos.
_¿No has escuchado nada sobre eso? - preguntó y yo negué con la cabeza. Tampoco quise decirle que jamás había escuchado nada de su país, ni de ellos.
_Dijeron que los buques vendrían a salvarnos. Cualquier día, de un momento a otro - decía Leoncio sin apartar la mirada del firmamento. En ese instante, miré alrededor y miré que muchos de los que esperaban parecían desdibujados, como una pintura desgastada, como si aquel lugar fuera un valle de sombras.
o0o
Sin proponérmelo, aquel día, compartí la rutina nocturna de aquella gente: en silencio, atentos al mar, esperaban con esperanza.
Frente al Mar Caribe, nos sorprendió la madrugada. Entonces, como una procesión muda, comenzaron a levantarse y a caminar de vuelta a sus casas:
_¿Y ahora qué harán? - expresé con tono lastimero. Leoncio volteó a verme, no sé por qué lo vi más anciano que el día anterior, y me respondió:
_Quizás hoy tampoco sea ese día que lleguen los buques, pero hay que seguir esperando. - dijo y se unió a una marejada de personas que a medida que se alejaban, se hacían más invisibles.
[Versión en inglés]
I arrived in that country in the morning, I only stopped because I needed to eat and freshen up. It was one of those countries that do not appear on maps, but exist or at least survive. Leoncio, a man who looked like an old man, but later I found out he was only 40 years old, was the one who dropped me off at the hotel where I was going to stay:
This is the only one that exists in this part of the country. Almost no one comes here; everyone leaves - he expressed and accompanied me to the reception. From the look of the woman who welcomed us, I inferred that she was surprised to see me, but Leoncio explained that I was just passing through, and after handing me the key, he told me he would be at the beach, like everyone else, in case I needed him.
After bathing, despite being tired, I preferred to take a walk. The silence in the hotel was proof that I was alone and that I was the only guest. I was also surprised by the few cars that passed at that hour, and it even seemed that the trees were not moving. Without thinking much, I walked towards the beach, and there I found, on the horizon, a lot of people sitting on the sand, looking at the sky, as if they were statues. From one of the corners, I saw some raised arms waving at me: it was Leoncio. So I walked over to him and sat down beside him.
It was there that Leoncio told me they were expecting some ships and submarines coming from afar.
"Haven't you heard anything about that?" he asked, and I shook my head. I also didn't want to tell him that I had never heard anything about his country, nor about them.
"They said the ships would come to save us. Any day now, at any moment," Leoncio said, not taking his gaze off the sky. At that moment, I looked around and saw that many of those waiting seemed blurred, like a worn-out painting or a valley of shadows.
Unintentionally, that day, I shared the nighttime routine of those people: in silence, attentive to the sea, they waited with hope.
In front of the Caribbean Sea, morning surprised us. Then, like a silent procession, they began to rise and walk back to their homes:
"And now what will they do?" I expressed with a mournful tone. Leoncio turned to look at me, and I don't know why I noticed he looked older than the day before, and he replied:
"Perhaps today won't be the day the ships arrive, but we have to keep waiting." he said and joined a surge of people who, as they moved away, became invisible.
