For a long time, I have wanted to meet José Antonio Álvarez Cedeño, famous Tony, the technician everyone talks about when it comes to the Juan Sáez dam.

Finally, the stars aligned, and we were able to walk the approximately nine kilometers that separate the town of Chaparra from the reservoir. The place where Tony works and lives.

This reporter didn't even notice the potholes in the road, the dust everywhere, and the tree branches creeping through the windows and adding their rhythm to the journey. The dialogue promised to be fascinating, one of those that we like because it brings together the overwhelming calm of the everyday.

The greeting was a handshake in the doorway of the house that serves as his office. He apologized in advance because he would owe me a coffee. "My wife is away, and without her, I'm a little short on those things." Then began the fascinating conversation about the life that has been intertwined with the water for more than three decades.

Yes, because he has been working there for 34 years, in the "Juan Sáez", and he has been living permanently in the big house next to the reservoir for about 27 years, where he has seen downpours and more storms pass by, together with Martha, his wife.

"I was crazy about traveling, and I like my job. So, one day I told my wife that we had to come here permanently because I couldn't take it anymore. And to this day. He was 24 years old and, looking back in time, he is satisfied with that decision."

That's how his two children grew up, between his grandmother's house in Chaparra, "because of those school issues", and weekends and vacations walking those lonely places where imagination takes you to the wonder. The boy, perhaps dreaming of conquering all that is possible; the girl, learning that there are no limits to the singularity of existence.

The breeze is delightful as he tells us. "I used to work in the laboratory at the Jesús Menéndez sugar mill, and I had a friend who was the brother of the then-head of the dam. He suggested I try here because those early morning shifts were very hard; it would be 24 hours of work, and I rested 72. I came, I talked, and on April 3, 1991, I started here.

"But already in mid-1994, the man left the job, and I stayed on as technical manager because, without a doubt, I had dedicated myself a lot to learning. I felt prepared. In addition, I had tremendous worker stability, and that gave me a lot of security."

"Now things have gotten bad, and people have left me. I put one here, the other one goes there. And that's the way I am. The salaries don't attract new guys. That's the truth."

Tony likes adrenaline. He confessed it by lowering his voice a little, perhaps so that nobody would notice, at first, that he prefers rainy times, wind in the face, and millimetric attention to every detail that announces changes in the dynamics of the reservoir.

"I was the first to operate the dam. I took it in August 1994, and in October of that year, it was full, something that had never happened before. I assure you that I feel I have a terrible ability to master it. I know her very well. I am not afraid to operate her under any circumstances. And I tell you more, anyone who is scared of her is not ready to be here."

"We've never had a significant breakdown in her structure, nothing. But we know that if there is an oversight, the water runs and can damage the town of Chaparra with flooding, even reaching the area of El Canal."

"That is why, when the dam is filling, the Civil Defense is alerted, and we know the areas that can flood, the most affected neighborhoods at any given moment. This is clear and delimited. The reservoir has an excellent technical quality; the care lies in the way it is operated. As water enters it, the spillway has to be opened so that it reaches the river and does not exceed normal levels."

He speaks with an overwhelming serenity. And then we ask him why the liquid runs through the town if the details are always taken care of.

"The Chaparra River cannot assimilate all the water that can come out of the spillway of the dam; and it happens that, after 45 cubic meters per second, the river spreads out and the area of 23rd Street, in Batey, is the first to feel it."

"The reservoir floods the town and, to avoid that, when it reaches 75 million, we start to make calculations of what is coming in. Thanks to that, we know how it will be the next day, and the day after that. We let it rise to 106 or 107 million in the dry period, but we immediately lower it when there is some risk, and in the rainy period, we let it reach 75 and even 80 million."

I confess that I was told that the tench was caught in the streets of Chaparrita by hand, one of those days when the "Juan Sáez" was relieved, to avoid greater evils. I also tell him about the amphibious cars traveling the streets at dawn and the bags of detergent that a friend bought later to remove the moss stuck on the walls of the house, at the height of the windows, thereby El Canal.

Tony doesn't pay much attention to my stories; he surely has his own, much more spiced up than anyone can tell him. Instead, his gaze is lost somewhere in the water, which is nearby, in total stillness, as if watching our conversation.

"Look, when Hurricane Ike hit it rained a lot around here, but the most significant thing was the wind. When it beat the air, it was waves that rose in front of us. It was very impressive because it seemed like we were here, my wife, the other technicians, and I, in front of a rough sea."

"However, the most intense time was when Tropical Storm Noel hit in 2004. It was rough there; imagine that it reached its maximum capacity, which is 112 million cubic meters of water. You looked at it like that, and what you saw in front of you was gigantic, and the water was still falling. It was tremendous."

We find the sight in front intimidating because we know that there are entire neighborhoods under those waters and that there are huge buildings, playgrounds, warehouses, and masonry houses. Everything has been able to swallow the "Juan Sáez" while it looks peaceful. And we know that it is nowhere near its full capacity.

"When it is full, it has 102 million useful cubic meters of water; in other words, there can be a three-year drought and it does not deplore itself, because it stores a large volume; besides, it is among the 14 reservoirs in Cuba that have floodgate spillways." How wonderful!

***
Tony has a very well-established routine. He gets up at 6:00 am, measures the levels of the dam, checks the spillway, the curtains, the overtopping, verifies the water delivery, and at 8:00 am, he is ready to organize his workers for the day's work. He never forgets that, if it rains, the day is more complex, because the water level has to be measured every hour, even with a cape, in the early morning, without missing.

At noon, he always takes a break, and the afternoons are calmer. It is time to take care of the animals because he has sheep and pigs in the fertile lands nearby, and he dedicates time to them, together with his wife, like any other peasant family.

He has to cook with coal, despite the two generators they have, because "the big one is only to operate the spillway, and the other one, smaller, is not enough for much more than turning on some lights." But he is happy, among other things, because he knows he is useful and, although he rarely thinks about it, the lives and belongings of many people depend on his daily management there, in those places marked by water, where time is slow and the silence becomes deafening.

With that certainty, we say goodbye, marked by the immense pleasure of having known him. Happy, moreover, because, thanks to those small fortunes that the profession gives us, we shook hands with a handsome and anonymous man, who saves thousands every day while he is anchored, without seeing the time, to the fate of a dam.