The Hungry Robot
Isidro Berique (1988) Quisqueya, San Pedro de Macorís. He is the brother of Ana Belique, from the Bonó Center, but due to an error in his birth certificate, his last name was registered Berique. He has taken university courses that he has not finished [and] is not currently in school. He has a son. He has his national identity and electoral card. Isidro is not currently employed but he is an active participant in the Reconoci.do Movement.
Isidro Berique is a young man who at the time of this story is in seminary school. Unfortunately, he found himself in a difficult situation at the seminary because he was eighteen years old and one of the requirements of attendance is that every seminarian who is of age must have an identification card. Since then, he began to look for ways to go to the government office in San José de los Llanos.1 When he arrived there and applied for a copy of his birth certificate for identification purposes, amongst the murmurs of people, the secretary asked him if his parents were Haitian. He answered, “yes.” Then, the secretary told him that he had to go to the capital.2 He replied, “But … to look for what?” She replied, “…your birth certificate is suspended.” Isidro left the office for the seminary. Arriving, he spoke with Father Daniel Retar of the seminary, but he, also not knowing what was happening, did not respond with anything. He continued with his chores and life at the seminary: to the San Pedro Apóstol school and, from the school, to the seminary.
During the next month, Isidro went to the office in Los Llanos in search of an answer to his situation because he did not understand what was happening. He knows that they would only tell him, “We can’t give you your birth certificate because your parents are foreigners.” He, confused with the heavy words that fell from the secretary’s mouth like rain, leaves the office without the information he needed and even more confused. He returns to the seminary again, but his confusion along with the pressure of the seminary leads him to decide to leave and find out what is happening with his documents, or rather, with his life. In the last month, during the vocational week — typically, the time to speak with the rector —he informs him that he has decided to leave the seminary to investigate what is happening.
In search of an answer to the theoretical predicament of being pulled back into the España Boba era,3 he began to work on a bus route from the Quisqueya municipality in San Pedro de Macorís. He weaved his words and thoughts with the daily life of charging people to use the bus system, pretending to be a good economic administrator.
Isidro, during this time, began to get familiar with the games he played every morning, waiting for a long turn in card games and dominos, observing hole after hole, making a paper robot that reflected in 5 x 5 coins…hungry…without eating. Having a face as big and radiant as the sun, like the stars and its every movement a penetrating ray on the deepest part of his heart, combating him like a mannequin of time and the daily habit, overcoming the inconsolable hunger, of those robots that grow and grow, becoming an enemy of their own self.
The RD$5 coins were not enough…nor was the money he received daily. It was a deficit like the leaves of emerald roses, falling from one into the other, requesting money for the satisfaction of an invisible robot…Which, he could not see because it lived inside him, becoming a roulette of time, crossing distant roads that only reflect the profound green point and reddish ray that could be seen inside his open eyes, and the deep thought of knowing where there is more to satisfy the tireless hunger of this robot that I am, who only lived to cause emotional harm to his family and loved ones. Because of his attitudes and behavior, of borrowing money to be able to play and satisfy the hunger of that roulette that only asked for five by five, he converted the expense into RD$5,000 and some, dreaming of winning more and more; to be able to multiply the money and solve the situation of his family. But every time money fell into his hands, he only went straight to the coin machines, waiting for his 5 x 5 to enter and never leave, and now there are only the sounds of drums and whistles that satisfy themselves with the smoke that the air releases blowing in the air, and the sight of a tomorrow that arrives without the departure of the present.
