UK readers will know the context for this micro-blog, which first appeared on Instagram @s_boue
It has taken a disaster to teach me how to wear a beret like my grandfather. It sits on top of my shaven head and feels suddenly right, after 4 years of thinking it was too small. A child’s beret! I thought. That was before we crossed a red line and I shaved my head too close, all on the same day. My grandfather lived to be 94, and sat in his armchair tutting and muttering, I shit in the salty sea! It’s a Spanish phrase. Bah, bah, bah…he would say to himself, and then smile at me. Sonia Begonia, he called me. I didn’t know what he’d lived through or what he’d seen. Sonia is the only one who understands the thing! He said often. Yes, my mother would say, but what thing? He never told us. Sometimes I think about it. I was a wilful and ‘naughty’ child. They called me the earthquake. Was it this? My wilfulness? I’ll never know. What I do know is that he’s with me in these strange days, guiding me with his mistrust of those who treat the people, el pueblo, like fools. Bah,bah, bah! I shit in the salty sea! I wear my beret because this is a long story, as old as time.