馃嚜馃嚫 En Espa帽ol
Cr贸nicas de lo Absurdo #27
La vaca intocable
Fuente Pixabay
Hola querida comunidad 
Cr贸nicas de lo Absurdo.
Esta es una serie de cr贸nicas sobre lo cotidiano, sobre esas escenas que se repiten tanto que dejan de parecernos extra帽as. Aqu铆 no hay exageraci贸n ni ficci贸n forzada. El absurdo no se inventa, se observa. Son textos nacidos de la experiencia diaria, de la espera, de las normas sin sentido, de los gestos que todos conocemos y que casi nunca cuestionamos. No pretenden dar respuestas, solo detenerse un momento y mirar con atenci贸n eso que hemos aprendido a aceptar.
En esta la vig茅sima s茅ptima edici贸n el tema es:
La vaca intocable.
Antes de comenzar quiero aclarar algo.
El t铆tulo de esta cr贸nica no tiene relaci贸n con las creencias religiosas donde la vaca es considerada un animal sagrado.
Aqu铆 hablamos de otra cosa.
De c贸mo, durante una etapa de la historia cubana, la vaca lleg贸 a convertirse en un animal rodeado de regulaciones, controles y restricciones que para muchas personas resultaban dif铆ciles de comprender en la vida cotidiana.
En el campo cubano, criar animales siempre ha sido una actividad ligada al esfuerzo.
Detr谩s de una vaca hay trabajo.
Hay alimentaci贸n.
Hay cuidados diarios.
Hay tiempo.
Hay sacrificio.
Pero durante muchos a帽os existi贸 una contradicci贸n dif铆cil de explicar:
Una persona pod铆a criar un animal, cuidarlo durante a帽os y verlo crecer, pero eso no significaba que pudiera decidir libremente qu茅 hacer con 茅l.
La explicaci贸n oficial estaba relacionada con la necesidad de proteger la masa ganadera del pa铆s.
La ganader铆a era considerada un recurso estrat茅gico y, por esa raz贸n, el sacrificio de ganado vacuno estuvo sometido durante mucho tiempo a fuertes regulaciones.
El problema aparec铆a cuando la l贸gica de la protecci贸n chocaba con la realidad cotidiana.
Porque para quien hab铆a dedicado a帽os al cuidado del animal, la relaci贸n era sencilla:
Era su trabajo.
Era su esfuerzo.
Era algo que estaba bajo su responsabilidad.
Sin embargo, la capacidad de disponer de ese animal ten铆a l铆mites establecidos.
Y ah铆 comenzaba la paradoja.
La situaci贸n lleg贸 a generar historias que forman parte de la memoria popular.
Personas que hablaban en voz baja sobre la carne de res.
Familias que trataban con discreci贸n la preparaci贸n de determinados platos.
El temor de que un olor, un comentario o un vecino curioso pudiera convertirse en un problema.
Pero quiz谩s una de las mayores contradicciones estaba en otra situaci贸n.
驴Qu茅 ocurr铆a si alguien robaba el animal y lo sacrificaba?
En determinados casos, el propietario pod铆a terminar siendo cuestionado o sancionado por no haberlo protegido adecuadamente.
Y ah铆 aparec铆a una pregunta dif铆cil:
驴C贸mo pod铆a alguien ser completamente responsable de algo sobre lo que no ten铆a plena libertad de decisi贸n?
El animal ten铆a due帽o.
El due帽o ten铆a obligaciones.
Pero la decisi贸n final no siempre depend铆a solamente del due帽o.
Con el paso de los a帽os las regulaciones cambiaron y actualmente existen mecanismos legales que permiten el sacrificio de ganado bajo determinadas condiciones establecidas.
La realidad no permanece congelada.
Las normas tambi茅n evolucionan.
Pero durante mucho tiempo aquella situaci贸n form贸 parte del imaginario cubano.
La vaca dej贸 de ser solamente un animal del campo.
Se convirti贸 en un s铆mbolo de una contradicci贸n:
Algo que requer铆a cuidado, esfuerzo y responsabilidad, pero que al mismo tiempo estaba rodeado de l铆mites que iban m谩s all谩 de quien lo criaba.
Tal vez ese sea el verdadero absurdo.
No que un pa铆s proteja un recurso importante.
Eso puede ser comprensible.
El absurdo aparece cuando la protecci贸n llega a un punto donde la persona que m谩s se esfuerza por conservar algo siente que tiene menos capacidad de decidir sobre ello que el propio sistema que lo regula.
Porque al final la pregunta nunca fue solamente:
驴De qui茅n era la vaca?
La pregunta m谩s profunda era:
驴Qui茅n pod铆a decidir realmente sobre ella?
Hasta aqu铆 esta vig茅sima s茅ptima cr贸nica. Gracias por leer y espero sus comentarios al respecto.
Las im谩genes son de Pixabay y para la versi贸n en ingl茅s utilic茅 DeepL Translate.
馃嚞馃嚙 In English
Chronicles of the Absurd #27
The Untouchable Cow
Source Pixabay
Hello dear
Chronicles of the Absurd.
This is a series of chronicles about everyday life, about those situations that repeat themselves so often that they stop seeming strange. There is no exaggeration or forced fiction here. The absurd is not invented; it is observed. These texts are born from daily experience, waiting, meaningless rules, and behaviors we all recognize but rarely question. They do not seek to provide answers, only to pause for a moment and look carefully at what we have learned to accept.
In this twenty-seventh edition, the topic is:
The untouchable cow.
Before beginning, I would like to clarify something.
The title of this chronicle has no connection with religious beliefs where cows are considered sacred animals.
Here we are talking about something else.
We are talking about how, during a period of Cuban history, the cow became an animal surrounded by regulations, controls, and restrictions that many people found difficult to understand in everyday life.
In the Cuban countryside, raising animals has always been an activity linked to effort.
Behind a cow there is work.
There is feeding.
There is daily care.
There is time.
There is sacrifice.
But for many years there was a contradiction that was difficult to explain:
A person could raise an animal, care for it for years, and watch it grow, but that did not mean they could freely decide what to do with it.
The official explanation was related to the need to protect the country's cattle population.
Livestock was considered a strategic resource and, for that reason, cattle slaughter was subject to strict regulations for many years.
The problem appeared when the logic of protection collided with everyday reality.
Because for someone who had dedicated years to caring for the animal, the relationship was simple:
It was their work.
Their effort.
Something under their responsibility.
However, the ability to dispose of that animal had established limits.
And that was where the paradox began.
The situation generated stories that became part of Cuban popular memory.
People speaking quietly about beef.
Families preparing certain dishes discreetly.
The fear that a smell, a comment, or a curious neighbor could become a problem.
But perhaps one of the greatest contradictions appeared in another situation.
What happened if someone stole the animal and slaughtered it?
In certain cases, the owner could end up being questioned or penalized for not having protected it properly.
And that raised a difficult question:
How could someone be completely responsible for something over which they did not have full freedom of decision?
The animal had an owner.
The owner had obligations.
But the final decision did not always depend only on the owner.
Over the years, regulations changed and today there are legal mechanisms that allow cattle slaughter under certain established conditions.
Reality does not remain frozen.
Rules also evolve.
But for a long time, that situation became part of Cuban collective memory.
The cow stopped being only a farm animal.
It became a symbol of a contradiction:
Something that required care, effort, and responsibility, while at the same time being surrounded by limits that went beyond the person who raised it.
Perhaps that is the true absurdity.
Not that a country protects an important resource.
That can be understandable.
The absurdity appears when protection reaches a point where the person who works hardest to preserve something feels they have less ability to decide about it than the system that regulates it.
Because in the end, the question was never only:
Who owned the cow?
The deeper question was:
Who could truly decide about it?
This concludes the twenty-seventh chronicle. Thank you for reading and I look forward to your comments.
The images are from Pixabay and the English version was translated using DeepL Translate.
Thank you for reading.
Special thanks to 