6/10/1988

In the end, I decided to vote.  I wasn’t going to, for a million reasons, but Amalia almost burst into tears when I told her I had no intention to vote.  “No hará nada…es mentira” I thought…but I guess I was wrong.  Amalia and what seems like everyone I know is celebrating today, but my smiles and repetition of “lo hicimos” aren’t persuasive even to myself. I know that I’ve become complacent, that much has been obvious for years.  I guess the new part is that I’m content in my complacency.  Pero somo chileno…we’re ‘deeply political’…I can’t be the only one who feels nothing today.  The closest I felt to the joy that’s permeating Chile today was when I saw the look on Amalia’s face when they announced the result.  Then, she actually did burst into tears and hugged me saying “no lo puedo creer“.  I felt it for a moment, her overwhelming happiness, it felt good.  But then she squeezed my faced and declared “lo sobrevivimos el Pinochet” and I returned to the nothing  What did we survive?  We’ve been fine…Chile’s been fine… [Can’t seem to get to the comment page, so will post here: Pero chica, tenías que votar. I’m so glad that you did. Maybe you don’t feel anything now, but in some years you might; qué hiciste el día del plebiscito, abuela? At least you’ll be able to say something now!]

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