Shortly before midnight this Sunday, a large explosion occurred at the burned site of the Matanzas Supertanker Base and caused the fire to spread to adjoining warehouses, presumably due to the collapse of the one that had been burning since early Saturday morning.
In the area of the Special Command No. 2 Supertankers of Matanzas, where there are now firefighters, lifeguards and braves from many parts of Cuba, it does not matter that it is Sunday or that it is getting dark.
Perhaps many of these men and women do not even know exactly what day of the week it is; time is counted by the hours that have passed, by «the times I went in and out», or by «the calls that the old people have made to me».
Several have burns on the back of the neck or ears, a bandaged hand or foot, and they are there, resting under a tent, on the grass, in clearly improvised conditions. “We could go to the places that are prepared in the city –they clarify–, but nobody wants to leave here, ours are inside there”.
A little further on, at the Super Tanker Base, the presence of the fire is close and threatening, and the workers and bosses work with an astonishing cold blood: the question is to install other pumps, manage to transport more water, be able to make the foam.
When the wind picks up and the flames flare up, those outside tense up, there is no one who does not trace an escape route and mentally calculate how far the danger could reach, what distance is prudentially safe.
Meanwhile, the rescue and salvage continue to enter the heart of the disaster in their trucks; the technicians continue splicing pipes and calculating meters per second; and the authorities controlling indications.
Everything is done with the naturalness of duty in that piece of Matanzas where the entire Island has its prayers and solidarities located; and although they do not take risks other than the essential ones, in accepting that margin all heroism goes.
There one fights against adversity, against time and the wind, there courage is the rule because nobody wants any more pain, because the longing to be able to say again, in Carilda’s verses, is collective: Matanzas, «when you get up early in calm / my flesh becomes soul».
Author: Yeilen Delgado Calvo
Granma