Aromatic Herbs

His Royal Highness climbed into the pulpit and looked at the audience in silence, with the eyes of a tame calf (one must remember that appearances are deceiving). Thousands of new graduates, attired in their gowns and seated before him, awaited his wise words. That graduation night, in Texas, His Bovine Highness was guest of honor and keynote speaker.

And so he began to speak. He spoke, and spoke, and spoke. His mouth revealed an unknown, transcendental, shocking truth: in Panama many children do not have the means to go to school to learn. The audience gave him a standing ovation (one must remember that there are a great many foolish people in the world, even under gowns). Had I been there, instead of applauding him, I would have asked him:

And you, what are you going to do about it? Are you going to sell your plane, your helicopter, your palace and your summer house, to buy books and notebooks for those children? Are you going to use your secret account of 6 million to buy vitamins and pencils for the poor, malnourished and illiterate little ones? Are you going to cut your ministers’ salaries? Are you going to cut your own salary? Are you going to fire the thousands of no-show jobholders in the public offices? Are you going to avoid the multimillion-dollar expense of the plebiscite? What are you going to do, Mr. Candidate, I mean, Mr. President?

And he would have answered: “I’m going to get myself reelected.” And I would have laughed in his face, unable to help myself. “Wouldn’t you just love that!” as Vange e’León used to say: “Wouldn’t you just love that!”