8:00 AM: the 8 sisters get up, each in their own corner. Separated by the eternal (or not so eternal) cold blue shawl.
They remove the haze from their eyes to, immediately afterwards, hold hands, as always. The two eldest in front, take the other remaining ones, who sigh from behind: "We never go in front," one small one says to another.
- Shhh, be quiet! - one of the eldest raises her imposing voice.
- No shushing here... We'll grow up! - one of the youngest replies
It is a tradition, every 4 years the 8 sisters decide who will take care of them, although very few times they are taken care of as they had been promised.
They know that these are days. Days of words. Words that are believed less every day.
- I wish that promising and hopeful words had a sanction. A sanction for unfulfilled promises. A sanction that goes directly embedded in the pension, healthcare, public education, or youth employment promotion budget. Surely then, political campaigns and politicians would have no choice but to promise and deliver. Or if not, let all the money from their campaigns go to the common good and not to "posters", says one of the sisters.
- Sounds good - says another.
- Oh! This poster is itchy - says one of the younger sisters to the eldest next to her.
- Which one is it?
- It's green, but not 7-star green. It's a prehistoric green and it's glued with super glue, and on top of that, they glued it in the "Biosphere Reserve".
- But that can't be done!
- Of course it can, now it can... when my son César was around, this didn't happen, "twenty-something" years give you plenty of time to do a lot of nonsense. It's just that I don't have children to take care of me like that anymore. Sometimes, I think they don't care about my skin.
- Well, if that poster is itchy, tear it out by the roots, because the itching will never go away and ends up being scars on the skin.
- Well, who are we going to vote for? - interrupts the tallest sister.
- We'll have to vote all together, right? We already live too far apart from the sea.
- I think we should vote for whoever remembers that I can't be depending on going to my older sister's house every time I have these horrible pains to get cured! It's a trek! Because, in my house, since I'm younger, I can't be taken care of properly. And it's well known that Isla Menor is disconnected.
- The eldest interrupts: "Yes, besides, I can't cope at my house either, I have all the plants collapsed and it's carrying my own burden and yours. So we also have to vote for whoever leaves us a proper first-aid kit in each house".
- I'm going to vote for whoever has feminism as their banner.
- But there's hardly any machismo anymore, girl, that was before, that issue is already under control!
- Under control nothing! The volcanoes are still crying blood.
- I want to vote for whoever keeps me clean and tidy, because with the millions of visits I receive every year, who come for four pennies, have breakfast, lunch, dinner, leave everything thrown around and leave... they have my house upside down.
- Like everyone, sister - well, some more than others.
- And what about the precariousness of our young people? What do you say?
- Look, I am a mother of volcanoes and they still can't leave home, because what they are paid is not enough to rent and be able to become independent. And on top of that, the rent is sky high. It's impossible...!!
- Well, I have "my dunes" as fake self-employed workers in a company... what a cheek! They don't even have enough for "a little bucket" to make castles."
- Yes, I think all that youth lives depressed. Entering and leaving new jobs without knowing stability. In an eternal coming and going between exploitation and exploitation.
Because one gets tired of being mistreated and they try to take advantage of the situation under the motto "be grateful that I'm giving you a job" and the other thing I hear them say is: "For how things are, 900 euros is great"... and of course, they know that with 900 euros you can, but to barely survive.
- Besides - another sister interrupts - that generation was deceived, they swore that if they studied and made an effort, they would have a job, at least in what they had studied.
- In my house, nowadays, few waiters don't have a master's degree (but the real kind, the kind where you go to class).
- Yes, and some collecting degrees under their parents' roof...
- Ayyy god.. How unfair! That's why you have to vote "with your head".
- And on top of that, I have "father" at home, who is also exploited... he says that the cable car is no longer enough to fill the fridge... that those who go don't leave anything, well yes, a blanket of garbage, like on the beaches".
- Oh my poor beaches! There are no shells anymore, now there are plastics.
- Speaking of fathers, what do you say about mother's pension? Selling quesadillas and rapaduras when you're old to save money! according to some, it's also in danger...
- And speaking of danger,
by the way, how many boats arrived to you this year...?
- Phew... I don't even count them! many remind me of when we had to go to our aunts' houses in Cuba and Venezuela ..."
- Of course, in the end...it doesn't go away... it doesn't go away...hell doesn't go away, it just changes place"
- Hey, did you know the amount of money that is returned to Europe and Madrid? What do you say! That would give us enough to cover some vines..."
- Well... be that as it may, let's vote "with our heads."
And the sisters went and tried to vote. But since they had neither voice nor vote, no one understood them. Then they entrusted their ballots to all their sons and daughters. And they said to them in their language:
"The Canary Islands belong to no one. It is not a single ideology, nor a flag. Nor is it of a certain color. The Canary Islands are not a discount card. The Canary Islands only belong to the sea. TO NO ONE ELSE. Therefore, on Sunday, vote for what is best for it. BECAUSE IT HAS NO VOICE. Vote for what its beaches or the whisper of the trade winds would vote for. Vote so that its people have a better quality of life. Vote so that its streets are alive. But above all, vote for what its soul, César Manrique, would tell you, vote for it to be a sustainable territory, a territory that attracts quality tourism and where its people enjoy a good quality of life.
Amalia M. Fajardo
