THE LAST DAYS OF FIDEL, PLAZA DE LA REVOLUCIÓN - by Romaric Tisserand / Diceviewer 2016

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PLAZA DE LA DEVOLUCIÓN - (VOL. 1)

Random installation, Text & Pictures by Romaric Tisserand - 2016 Diceviewer

THE LAST DAYS AFTER FIDEL
PLAZA DE LA DEVOLUCIÓN - (VOL. 1)

Plaza de la Revolución,
Plaza de la Devolución

I remember that night a year ago. What was planned to be nothing more than an another journey in the island turned to be one of the most unpredictable and fascinated moments for me. We were sharing loudly an invented banana-knaki sausage-rice at the terrasse. Everybody was talking and chatting. I had arrived the night before and I was still on a fresh impression. Floating.

The very late announcement of the death of the leader of the cuban revolution has been a no surprise for everybody in the island except for myself. Fidel Castro was turning 90 and the rumour about his possible departure was spreading for years. The real amazement for everybody came from the way it happened.

Around the table, everybody was electrified and making plans for the next days. Mobile phone were entering in their life. So as she took the phone call nobody payed attention. As she hanged up after 5 seconds of silence (as it was necessary for her to pronounce each word) she said clearly to the assistance :

"Fidel ha muerto".

The possible death of Fidel Castro has spread so many times and turned finally to be false that people stopped getting that emotional. The 24/h safety radio Radio Reloj normally used for for national events and hurricane was spreading a long string of salsa music. The official NewsTV begun. The frontmen started with a New Delhi's opera in town followed by the opening of direct American airline between La Habana and Miami. A new scholl has opened in a small jungle village. Etc,etc,etc.

Everything was as usual. But with the possible issue these apparences were too calm for our exhausted mind.

We forget it and went back to the garden. Eventually everybody went to tease the girl and finally turned to be upset by our jokes. After all these years of expectations nobody was really ready for this next morning.

Until he suddenly shown up.

The face of Raul Castro shown up one minute before the News were ending. A dry silence filled the room like heavy concrete. That's was enough for everydody to understand the understable.

Raul Castro declared in a soviet style recording from his Swiss alpin chalet office the death of the Leader of the Cuban Revolution and 9 days of mourning. And disappeared. It was 11:30 pm. The country was facing an historical issue and nobody was awake.

In a question of seconds people ran into closed rooms to make some calls. I finally stayed alone in the living room and without any previous publicity the TV begun to play an american spy movie from the 90’s perhaps called True False. Even this was very confusing.

Then there was this upset women spinning around. After few minutes, she gave a punch on a wall. I came to her asking what was happening. She was’t even considering me. After a moment she turned towards me and said : « they show up like the weather man and throw it into your face. They have closed 50 years like a book. As it has never existed. This is a lack of respect for the people !».

This answer was so far from what I was expecting that I ended totally mute. People wanted to cry Fidel to cry their years. I was a fish swimming in hot waters and everybody was remaining silent. I begun to realize myself how much I missed about the complexity of this country and how the people were able to control themselves.

We stucked our ears and eyes at the windows. La Habana was remaining totally silent. Just old exhausted russian engines drumming the night in echo. People decided to go quicly back home. We went as well to bed. Them with a long stip of questions to shake and I with the strange feeling that I was crossing the big history almost by accident.

The next day the population woke up silent.

Nobody knew what finally happened this night.

I am taking a 10 pesos collective taxi to go downtown. A 1937 white dodge stopped next to me. Full fresh repainted. Inside the driver is a young men. Dressed in a santero suit. Immaculate. I am taking the front place. There is no much people on the street. No public transportation neither. Long strings of purple leds are running like snakes inside the roof of the car. We travelling down La Rampa. It's a blowing purple rain just in front of my eyes.

Committees of the Revolution are now plastering official announcements in all the neighbourhoods. I want to buy newspapers. The most official I can find. Can't miss. Actually, there is only two and both are representing the party. Inside the first one Fidel is the historical chief full of quotes from cubans who are saying their devoted love for the past Commandante. A family encounter. It is calling to join La Plaza de La Revolution. 2 days of mourning and the third devoted to the last convoy of his ashes from la Havana to Santiago de Cuba.

The next morning, we are joined the column of functionaries from the Ministry of Culture. At 6 am. Before the rest of the population. Each ministry is raising its people to join the Plaza of the Revolution. From the seagull view, they were coming from cardinal points of the city drawing a star in the city's streets.

Under a zenithal light I am with Laura and Lorenzo, Michelangelo Pistoletto and Anish Kapoor at the Fidel's Funeral and this is the most normal thing in the world. A five hours queue is leading us inside the basement of the tower. His portrait is surrounded by flowers. People give him the last salute. No ashes, no body. Only a large portrait and flowers.

The day is declared national mourning.

Everybody is expected information about what the future will look like.

But first you have to join the place

and say Goodbye

A night is comming.

A day

As a new day.

We're coming back home.

THE DAYS AFTER THE DEATH OF FIDEL
© by Romaric Tisserand