The Yellow Waltz

The figures of millionaire profits from the blessed gas flow every time from the mouth of the President and ministers, in front of peasants or neighbors of marginal areas who listen to the promise of well-being and allow themselves to be carried away by the soft murmur of those distant bills. There is talk of being Switzerland, of resembling the sister Venezuelan oil country, of roads, investments and dignity, recovery of national natural resources, liberation, happiness and so many other things. The figures flow so well in the speeches that for a while the audience forgets that they have already spent days chasing some gas with which to heat the food ... But in the face of so much power of conviction, to those figures that never lie, reality only has than to be wrong. Meanwhile, neighbors stalk the senkata crimp plant in El Alto, and some trucks launch to make their tour of the neighborhoods of La Paz. A lady sitting on her empty bottle, one of the many that blocks the avenue near the railway station, wonders if, as the politicians say, gas is a blessing ... Well, in this daily yellow waltz, this reality in which there are no millionaire sums but scarce food to cook, are the colorful metal tins that carry the dance ...