by Maria del Carmen Ares.

I remember the first till up, sharp chords of Led Zeppeling, the cracks in the walls, the broken face characters from the collision … How was I not going to rescue that film that has impacted me so much!!!

That you couldn't get it out of Cuba?!!! Hey!!! Can you hear me!!! Emiliooo!!!

I hit the phone…The beep deafened the snowflakes that were felling down like diamonds over the ruined Muscovite telephone booth. I went back to the obschechitie. The interrupted words resonating while I walked down into the Sub-Way through the endless electric stair… Something moved inside me. It was my son. I held him in my belly and we jumped into the train. The last one of the night… Nodding I imagined what could have made Emilio to get out of Havana before the awards ceremony… and without taking with him The Enchantment of The Return!?...

The following day, Maria, the Swedish woke me up. The stalóvaya* was a swarm of comments – she told me – How’s that Emilio is in jail in Cuba? William, the kid, had spread the word and she, Swedish after all did not understand it. Sacha, the camera man of the docu from Siberia had let it known to the Emilio’s group of study. The Tiger and the Mona, (a very dear couple) also showed up by the Institute… The Cubans (we were a few) made their own “version” obtained it from Havana… Even Liena Tonuts, turned now in a total starschor* from floor 15, had come down to say that we would to plan a strategy… Fedia Bondarchuck and Tigrán, were in their way over already; they asked for Emilio’s telephone number in Havana….. The stalóvaya* was a great saloon for infusions, foods and political conversation. People went on with their plates of sasisksi, their solianka or their mannaya kasha* waiting for the official version of the events. Some said that the best for Emilio would be to get back to Moscow. Others, that we should use our contacts in MOSFILM or wherever… During the following days, people kept on inquiring and worrying. Moscow was deeply living its Perestroika … and our VGIK approaching to us the distant events in geography, with an intense halo of commotion… Indeed! I finally explained – Emilio has got out of Cuba in a rush… and The Enchantment of The Return has been abolished at the vaults of the prohibited.

I did not give up with the illusion of remove the only existing copy out of Cuba, from its enclosure: the VGIK archives. Nearly impossible!... but the destiny wanted that the film were sent to The Moscow Film Festival… and that event turned into discovery.

We run out of time. In a few days, the only person willing to utilize his political immunity to deliver the eye-catching load of eleven cans of film to my dear friend would leave the city.

With the excuse of visiting some friends at the embassy, I slipped away into the offices. I took out some embossed papers, envelopes, a seal and I made a document, determined to try one’s luck at the Festival. My belly did give me too much agility, but it made look real the character of “officer” that I improvised in minutes. With the letter in my hand, I came to the GOSKINO* employee and I argued that I was picking up the film to show it that night to some diplomats invited to our embassy. The Russian lady gave me a perspicacious look and called a colleague and this one at another and another… none of them was willing to hand me the film. Between calls back and forth, it went on like an hour. The ladies whispered and my worry overflowed without decorousness… but I had well calculated that at that time they would not find anyone in any office. I started complaining about the bureaucracy and inhumanity to my condition, while I promised to return the material the following day…Finally, a nachalnik* showed up dressed in a chapka, sweater with spangles and a golden smile on her lips that she showed off when she acceded to hand me the material, with the condition of signing I don’t know how many documents that free her –according to her- from the responsibility of handing me the material.

I got out satisfied but pressed for new challenges. Now, the voluminous jewel had to be hidden until its move to the airport. What if someone warned the Institute in the next days to come? What if they discovered my signature and recorded my komnata*? The cold temperature of minus fifteen degrees got to my bones. My heart beeped faster … I saw the embassy custodians in the faces of the pedestrians and black volgas everywhere. I felt another little kick inside me. My son was determined to resist my anguish. I tried to appease my paranoia and carry all of that while the night was breaking in and the people defied the wind and the snow sheltered in their paltos*… I also believed I was disappearing in the night, but I couldn’t stop checking out if someone was following us … I decided to stop a taxi that appeared at the corner… I got on and I felt the strange sensation that the metropolis would swallow me.

After a few weeks, I received the confirmation. It was a huge joy. Emilio had the copy in his hands and The Enchantment of The Return undertook its journey thru the movie theaters of the world, taking its history to many places… thanks to this anecdote that Emilio wanted me to tell today…