HAVANA TIMES – I thought selling books would be easier – never realizing that in a country with severe economic problems and crises of every kind over extended periods of time, nothing turns out to be easy. Even so, while doing my work, I began to think about the comment from a friend who saw me go by: “How interesting! Selling books, in a moment like this one in this country.” Frankly, if I begin to reflect on it seriously, on many occasions I find it more stressful than interesting, although I wish it weren’t the challenge it is almost every day.
Clearly, it has its satisfactions. When you watch people’s delight at finding the information they’ve been seeking for a long time. Or when someone asks the price of a book they want, and it ends up being very affordable, given these turbulent times with most prices in the stratosphere. Then they ask you: “Do you realize what this book you’re selling is?” And they thank you a thousand times, with joy in their soul.
But there are also very lonely days when they’re not interested in the subjects you propose. And other days that are still more complex. Still, it can’t be denied that the work of being a bookseller also brings you curious moments that become part of your own personal life, like a close-up view of others’ experiences, and you end up having a little more respect for the lives of those who come and go, for example. Because that’s the essential dynamic here.
I remember going to the house of a customer. The house was half-empty. There was a large living room, a table with four chairs, and a kitchen which seemed to be at the back. It gave the impression that all those who were there had only one task: packing things up. Naturally, I greeted them upon arriving and the owner of the house – the same woman who had asked me to come to her address – led me to a corner of the living room.
There were some boxes piled one on top of the others, reaching nearly halfway up the wall. She said: “These are the books I wanted you to look through. Tell me which ones you want to keep, and we’ll figure out a price.”
They were very good editions: some children’s literature, some for adults, books on mathematics, navigation… And I began to do my work, while the rest of the people continued with theirs. Later, I found out from the client that her whole family was up North waiting for her. Now, her travel permit had arrived, and she was – I could well imagine – running around like mad.
When I showed her the books I wanted to take and mentioned some possible prices, she told me that her husband had read all that literature and would tell her about it at night, before going to sleep. He’s an avid reader, she told me. When I showed her the books on navigation that I also wanted to take with me, she answered: “No, not those,” and apologized for not having told me that before. I