Cubanet – Page 11 – Translating Cuba

Forgive the Castro Regime? Never! / Cubanet, Luis Cino Alvarez

Cubanet, Luis Cino Álvarez, Havana, 11 January 2016 — I am a resentful person. I have to admit that, at least in this regard, the officials from State Security are correct, they who have condemned me as such during multiple, more or less menacing, interrogations throughout the past almost-20 years.

I am full of resentment against that calamitous abomination that some people still call “the Revolution.” And how can I not be? I would have to be a masochist, or emulate Mother Teresa of Calcutta, to love the perpetrators of the system that has crushed my life for as long as I can remember.

I would have to be exceedingly hypocritical to say that I am willing to reconcile with and forgive those who have never, in the slightest way—arrogant as they are—asked for forgiveness.

I am not a man given to hatreds and vengeances, but I cannot abide duplicity and hypocrisy. So leave me to my resentment which, in the reasonable doses in which I dole it out, will do no more harm than it already has; on the contrary, it helps me to keep going and not give up. continue reading

I cannot forgive those who thought themselves infallible, with a monopoly on the country, keepers of the keys to Paradise, with the right to decree the collective, obligatory happiness of the masses—all at the price of turning us into cogs in a machine, with no freedoms nor hope, yoked to the wagon of a mistaken history.

I cannot help but begrudge those who caused our individual dreams and aspirations—grand or simple, but valid and legitimate as any others—to be indefinitely deferred, annulled in the name of the Revolution, the Homeland and Socialism: all of which, according to what they said, were of a piece, despite the fact that the words did not rhyme, and we knew they could not rhyme.

I cannot be at peace with those who, in keeping with catchphrases that invariably posited death as the alternative, divided our families and pulverized our values, turning us into impoverished, vulgar riffraff, cynical and suspicious, perennially wandering in the desert…

My love for my neighbor (why deny it) is insufficient to be lavished upon those who fucked up my life: those teachers who, applying punishments prescribed by Comrade Makarenko, pretended to be forging The New Man; the sergeants in the compulsory military service; the psychiatrist-prison guards; the jailers at police precincts; the snitches who compiled exhaustive reports on me; all those who were wont to expel me from anyplace because of ideological divergences; the agents of the political police who “tend” to me, that is, who watch me even while I sleep…

Of no use have been the many times that they have tried to convince me that all the bad things that happened were not the Revolution’s fault—no, Man, of course not, they happened because of those extremists of which Lenin spoke—opportunists, as he called them—and all kinds of other shit. As if such as these were not the ideal subjects of a system like this!

Do not tell me anymore that those terrible events were errors—because in those “errors” have our lives been lost, and there is no getting them back…

I do not resign myself to having been one more rat in the Castros’ laboratory. The damages have been irreversible, and I do not believe that at this point they can be compensated.

Therefore, all we have left is the memory of what was and what could not be, because they prevented it, by force.

The poet José Mario—one of those who suffered the severities of the UMAP*—was right when he said that that those explanations of how “things were not as bad as they really were, it was a matter of errors committed by some extremists,” are worse than forgetting.Do not expect me to slobber. I am one of those who do not forget. I cannot, nor do I want to. For this reason, I am a resentful person. And proud of it.

luicino2012@gmail.com

Translated by Alicia Barraqué Ellison

About the Author: Luis Cino Álvarez (Havana, 1956) has worked as a professor of English, in construction, and in agriculture. He entered the field of independent journalism in 1998. Between 2002 and the spring of 2003, Cino was a member of the reporting team at De Cuba magazine. He is assistant director of the online magazine, Primavera Digital [Digital Spring], and is a regular contributor to CubaNet since 2003. A resident of Arroyo Naranjo, Cino dreams of being able to make a living from writing fiction. He is passionate about good books, the sea, jazz and blues.

Leap Year, Creepy Year / Miriam Celaya

The Cuban outlook does not look hopeful for the beginning year (photo taken from the Internet)

Miriam Celeya, Cubanet, Havana 15 January 2016 – The year 2016 has begun under a bad omen. If it weren’t enough with the general gloominess after one year of uneasy peace between the governments of Cuba and the US without any perceived improvement in living conditions, the food crisis has become more acute, and shortages are increasing. Agricultural products are increasingly scarce, of poor quality and high prices, while merchandise at foreign currency stores is very scarce. Many self-employed (cart pushers) have disappeared from the cityscape, while the cooperative stores are showing shortages signaling worse times ahead.

The high expectations arising out of the 17 December 2014 announcement of a reestablishment of relations between Cuba and the United States are shipwrecked and long gone. The stubborn reality has once again proved to everyone that Cuba’s ills are endemic: they rest only in the evil combination of an obsolete and failed sociopolitical and economic system and the persistence of a politically inept dynastic clique that seized the country 57 years ago, whose beginning and essential end are centered in clinging to power at any cost. continue reading

In other words, the national disappointment is based on placing the prospects of happiness in a miracle that would come from “outside” to save us from the native demon we have in Cuba: Castro-ism, cradle and reservoir for disaster. Hence, in the face of disappointment (delusion?), thousands of Cubans choose to seek abroad the happiness that is denied here.

However, by coincidence, the natural decline of the Castro experiment, which is already exhausted, will have its biggest survival test this leap year. Because, while 2016 threatens to be difficult for ordinary people — that conglomerate of the majority which some are in the unfortunate habit of referring to as “Cubans on foot” — will not be a honeycomb for the olive-green gerontocracy and its brown-nosers.

It is true that the Government-State-Party, embodied in the General-President, continues to hold power at his own free will, but in recent times the circumstances have not turned out to be as favorable as were expected. Despite the many awards and being hosted by governments and international organizations and against the grain of legitimation – useless to date – of the Cuban dictatorship in forums, including those of a financial nature, throughout the democratic world, envisioned foreign investment has not yet materialized, investment which would provide the necessary capital to start to repair the internal economic crisis.

The “new era in relations between Cuba and the international financial community,” according to the French Department of Finance, has yet to bear fruit for the elite of the Palace of the Revolution, while the Foreign Investment Act continues to lack the legal guarantees required by potential investors. Widespread corruption, rooted in the national reality, also advises caution when negotiating. Obviously, the slow pace of “reforms” of State socialism may be commendable in the hypocrisy of the forums, but it is incompatible with the urgencies of capital.

On the other hand, important changes have taken place in the regional political physiognomy, undermining alliances on which the plans of the Castro regime’s eternity rest. “21^st Century Socialism” is shaking, and, just like the ‘real socialism’ of Eastern Europe, it tends to “come undone.” While the fallen scepter of populism Kirchner-style in Argentina, Venezuela’s Chávez-style regime also just suffered a tremendous setback, when the opposition won the majority seats in the recent legislative elections amid a national crisis ranging from the greatest food shortages, corruption and citizen insecurity in recent history, to drug charges that point to the President himself and his closest acolytes.

In this vein, Venezuela’s support for the Castro regime through daily oil shipments – already in a phase of decline since 2014 – is hanging by a thread. Raul Castro’s promise of a reform “without haste, but without pause,” has not ameliorated the fear of blackouts that have begun to spread across Cuba, and the increasing uncertainty adds pressure to the valve, which will guarantee the ongoing exodus, mainly to the US.

Add to this scenario is the political crisis generated by the corruption scandal in Brazil, involving the president and his party. The region’s left has fallen into the cone of a tornado and is lagging far behind those glorious days when a jubilant Chávez hurled threats and “anti-imperialist” insults at every podium, and lavishly gave away Venezuela’s national wealth for the benefit of Latin American autocracies and other opportunistic parasites.

In closing, repressive signs in Cuba’s interior have been emphasized. This is an indication of the regime’s growing insecurity, as well as its preoccupation with maintaining control over an increasingly poorer, unhappier, more irreverent and less fearful population.

By natural logic, in this leap year we will witness the last congress of the Cuban Communist Party (PCC) to be led by the so-called historical generation. It is unlikely that a 90-year old Raúl Castro or his spectral, 95-year old brother would be able to direct the 8^th Congress in 2021, nor does it seem possible that the shadow of what was once the Cuban nation will be able to survive five more years of Castro-ism.

The 7^th Congress of the PCC to be held in April will undoubtedly be the most important domestic political event in Cuba. Like it or not, this improbable Party that lacks a political program, with ranks of less than one million members, and which not a single fairly lucid Cuban believes in “is the highest leading force of society and the state,” as Article 5 of the Constitution endorses, so that, at least the intention of the government on the political future of the country for the next five years should be made clear. It would be unwise to propose 300 more ineffective guidelines.

Another important event of the year will certainly be the proposed new Electoral Law. Given the fear that anything that resembles democratic elections awakens in the gerontocracy, we will have to see what freak of jurisprudence they will propose to “make perfect” (even more in their favor) the electoral system, and how they propose to make it look “more democratic.” In particular, the recent Venezuelan experience will make them cling more strongly to that famous maxim of our former President: “Elections? What for?”

“Leap Year, creepy year,” our grandmothers said. And indeed, so far, all signs point to more poverty, more emigration, more corruption, more repression… and also to the fastest growing dissatisfaction and internal dissent. However, nothing will prevent a change for the better in Cuba, with the help of those who have nothing to lose but their own fear. The picture being sketched is thorny, and it suggests that 2016 will be a decisive year for Cubans.

Translated by Norma Whiting

Venezuela, a Lesson for Cubans / Miriam Celaya

A “Venezuelan Che Guevara” after finding out the election results (Internet photo)

Miriam Celaya, Cubanet, Havana, 8 December 2015 — Despite all adversities and cheating to attempt to sabotage the opposition’s victory in Venezuela’s parliamentary elections, the forecasts were on target: the Democratic Unity Roundtable (MUD) didn’t just come ahead in surveys, which Maduro was hoping for, but it swept the polls.

The puppets at Telesur, “Latin America’s television channel”, could barely hide their apprehension. The long wait that followed the closure of the polling stations was a clear indicator that the ballots cast were so in favor of MUD that no Castro-Chavista trickery could reverse the outcome. However, announcing the results would turn out to be a bitter and difficult pill for Maduro and Cabello’s patsies to swallow. continue reading

Well after 12 midnight in Venezuela, Tibisay Lucena, president of the National Electoral Council (CNE), officially announced the results in a nervous and stuttering manner, in contrast with her usual energetic and poised style. MUD had risen, so far, to 99 seats in the parliament, well above the 46 achieved by the Chavistas. It is such a crushing blow to the ruling party that until last night [7 December] the results of the remaining 22 seats, completing a total of 167 in Parliament, had not been declared.

A stunned Nicolas Maduro posed as a democrat and pretended to be satisfied with the “triumph of democracy.” An advisor obviously suggested he leave his belligerent stance of the previous days, when he threatened to “govern in the streets” with “a military civic coalition” if Chavistas (Maduro’s party) conceded losing the election. We can imagine the advisor: “Mr. President, ‘the street’ is precisely who voted against you”. Thus, the speech accepting his defeat could not have been more gray and monotonous, recounting past victories which contrasted even more against the failure of the day. The faces of amazement of his audience shouted clearly that the glory days of Chavismo were over. Another one that bites the dust, after the sharp fall of the empty figurine of the Casa Rosada just days ago.

The saga is going to be very interesting. The new Parliament will assume its functions on 5 January 2016, and even the 99 already seats called for MUD will guarantee the simple majority, those who will be allowed to directly rescind root matters, such as electing the assembly board, (‘bye, ‘bye, Mr. Diosdado Cabello!) approving or vetoing appointments, enacting legislation or appointing Supreme Court judges and the Attorney General of the Republic, among other powers that would put an end to 16 years of Chavismo government impunity and authoritarianism enforced through violence, fear and coercion.

Such power in the hands of political opponents, however, would not be the Bolivarian autocracy’s worst nightmare. The most hostile circumstances for the dying Venezuelan regime is that MUD only has to win 11 more seats of the 22 remaining open (two have yet to be announced). Reaching 112 deputies will allow the opposition contingent to get two-thirds of seats, a sufficiently overwhelming force to bring down the whole dictatorial scaffolding erected by Hugo Chavez and his followers. MUD could exercise legislative functions of great scope and depth, such as promoting referendums, constitutional reforms and constituent assemblies.

It is no wonder, then, that however incomprehensible it may be — given the speed and efficiency of an electoral system fully computerized with the latest digital technology — almost 24 hours after completion of the referendum, CNE officials, still mostly Chavistas, had not made public the final results. Maduro’s supporters and his troupe are worried, and they have very good reason to be.

Yesterday dawned with Telesur completely silent on the subject. It would seem that there had been no Sunday parliamentary elections held in Venezuela. Elections which, by the way, the government itself announced would be “historic”. Admittedly, they were right this time. Yesterday, December 7, however, Telesur focused on the French municipal elections…. things of the Orinoco.

Havana’s Reaction

Castro II’s message to his Venezuelan counterpart has a somber tone, like those formal condolences one coldly offers an acquaintance on the loss of a close relative: “We’ll always be with you.” With enough problems of his own, the General-President was sparse, dry and distant with his “Dear Maduro” letter, despite the ‘admiration’ with which he listened to the words of the arrogant president. It ends with “a hug.”

Democratic Cubans, however, are celebrating. The victory of democracy in Venezuela cheers and encourages us, and we hope that MUD knows how to appreciate, in all its worth, the enormous importance of the victory achieved. It is a well-deserved laurel, solidly fought by them at a very high cost, but it is only a first step on a path that promises to be difficult and full of obstacles. Personally, I think it is a beacon of hope for all who aspire to the end of the dictatorship in our own country. The time is right to wish Venezuelans success as they return to the path of democracy.

And it is also opportune for dissidents and opponents here, inside Cuba, to meditate on the need to exploit the cracks of the precarious official legality more effectively. It is true that political parties alternative to the Powers-that-be in Cuba are without any legal recognition, that they are demonized and persecuted, their forces are constantly repressed and that we do not have the legal space that democratic Venezuelans have been able to defend, but the legalistic route has not only proven to be an effective tool, it is the only one that would have international support.

In the last elections, in the city of Havana two members of the opposition opted for the office of district delegates. It was a courageous act, and they were repressed by mobs at the service of the government, and criticized by quite a few of their fellow members of the opposition ranks. However, they both demonstrated that a representative portion of their communities dared to vote for them, and so they broke the myth of the opposition’s absence of roots.

Today, Venezuela’s victory stands not only as a hope, but also as a lesson for us: no dictatorship is too strong to not be defeated. If it happens at the polls, all the better. No space gained from a dictatorship is small or negligible. In the coming year, a new electoral law will be enacted in Cuba. Perhaps this is a good opportunity to push in that direction: pressing hard and with determination against authorities to achieve legal recognition spaces, fighting from these spaces, leaving defeatism aside because “that’s their game.” The distance between the Venezuelan reality and ours is indeed very great, but when results could motivate the change, it’s worth trying.

Translated by Norma Whiting

*Note to readers: Sadly the translation of this post got “lost in the internet ether” and it is now appearing here, very belatedly.

Polarized Cuban Miami / Cubanet, Luis Cino Alvarez

Cubant, Luis Cina Alvarez, Havana, 25 December 2015 — A year since 17D*, Cuban Miami grows ever more polarized. And it’s not only between those who favor dialogue with the Cuban regime and those who are staunchly opposed to the Castro regime –although at the end of the road, everything has to do, in one way or another, with that dichotomy.

There are those who love Obama (the few) and those who detest him, who deny his part in lifting the US out of the recession, who categorically assert that Obamacare is crap, who accuse the president of being pro-Muslim and a leftist, of being too soft in foreign policy (especially regarding the Castro regime), of endangering the country’s security in the face of jihadism, of exacerbating racial tensions, etc. continue reading

There are those who declare that they will vote for the Democrats — that is, for Hillary Clinton, but never for Bernie Sanders — and who say they are Republicans for life, who fervently prefer Marco Rubio (a sign posted in Coral Gables proclaims that Florida is his) –or Ted Cruz — but if neither of these wins the Republican nomination, they are willing to vote for Donald Trump, all his outrageousness and clownish behavior notwithstanding.

There are the early arrivals, not only the ones who got there in the ’60s, but also via the Mariel Boatlift in 1980, and those who arrived after the Rafter Crisis of 1994; those in Hialeah and the Southwest, and those in Coral Gables, Kendall or Coconut Grove; those who buy groceries at Publix or Sedano’s; those who speak English and those who don’t make even a minimal effort to garble it; those who favor lifting of the embargo and those who advocate for its continuance; those who defend or oppose the Cuban Adjustment Act; those who support and sympathize with the dissidents and those who don’t trust them and want nothing to do with them; those who oppose sending of remittances to Cuba and those who are not willing to let their families live in misery; those who protest the appearances by Cuban artists in Miami, even Los Van Van, and those who groove to reggaeton and guachineo as though they were still back home in Mantilla or San Miguel del Padrón.

During my stay in Miami, I listened to many discussions for and against the US government rescuing the thousands of Cubans stuck at the border between Costa Rica and Nicaragua. Many are sensitized to the hardships that their compatriots are facing, while others say that among those who seek to reach American soil, besides there surely being G-2 infiltrators, the majority are lumpen, lowlifes, people who never lifted a finger against the regime and, meek as they were, turned into lions when it came time to claim their rights — both those that were due and not due to them — the moment they set foot on foreign ground.

In Miami some Cubans take pride in being exiles, while others say — as the Castro regime likes for them to say — that they are economic and not political migrants, as from any other country in the region. Very few of them will be honest enough to admit that they “don’t want to get mixed-up in politics” so that the activation of their passport won’t be denied and they’ll be able to travel to Cuba to visit their relatives. For there are those who can go for a year without seeing their loved ones, and those who say that “as long as that system remains unchanged, they will not even be roped-in to returning.”

What all of these Cubans have in common, whether they acknowledge it or not, is that they are pining away for their country and all that is familiar to them–the good, the not so great, and even the bad. And it is precisely this nostalgia that unites them while at the same time divides them. And what can be done about this, so passionate are we Cubans.

luicino2012@gmail.com

*Translator’s note: Just as Americans say “9-11” instead of September 11, 2001, Cubans say “17D” instead of 17 December 2014, the day Barack Obama and Raul Castro jointly announced the restoration of relations between the United States and Cuba.

Translated by Alicia Barraqué Ellison

Coppelia, the Cathedral of Ice Cream, Is Melting / Somos+, Manuel Diaz Mons

When it first opened, it offered twenty-six flavors. Now Cuba’s most famous ice cream parlor leaves only a bad taste in customers’ mouths.

Cubanet, Manuel Diaz Mons, Havana, 17 December 2015 — Nestled into the corner of 23rd and L streets — the busiest corner in Cuba — and known to many Cubans for its reasonable prices, the Coppelia ice cream parlor has not been meeting consumer expectations for several years. Customers, looking for a place to cool off, take refuge in this poorly stocked and visibly corrupt state institution that next year will mark its fiftieth anniversary.

Designed by architect Mario Girona, it has been under the continuous control of the country’s most powerful directors since it opened in June 1966. Named for a famous ballet, it initially offered twenty-six flavors and had 250 tables that could seat up to 1,000 people simultaneously. continue reading

Over the years those numbers gradually diminished to the point that now it has only 172 tables seating 688 people. There are often never more than one or two flavors available. The situation has led to customer dissatisfaction and has forced the island’s government to try to explain why operations at the “Cathedral of Ice Cream” — a name it acquired because its role in the film Strawberry and Chocolate — are inefficient and a source of “national shame.” Someone who shares this view is Junior Ferro, a Havana student who visits the establishment on a daily basis because of its proximity to the university and its low prices, features he cannot find at privately owned and state-run ice cream parlors, which sell their products for hard currency.

“The U.S. blockade is to blame for the low inventory and lack of raw materials,” claim many of the company managers when questioned by a journalist who managed to get past the obstacles created by a government that would like to avoid any situation in which this or another state institution could be subject to ridicule. However, to the more than 12,000 Coppelia customers who daily wait in line to satisfy a sweet tooth, the reality is quite different.

“Of course there’s only one flavor available. That’s because they sell whole tubs of ice cream through the front door for all the customers to see,” observes a visibly annoyed Ferro. “What’s even worse is that both the store security and the company management are part of a candy and ice cream mafia. But in my opinion this will change the day Coppelia gets an owner.”

Better but more expensive

“I have a producer/vendor license,” says Yoan Torres, a young entrepreneur who in the next few days will try to open his own creamery in the town of Arroyo Naranjo on the outskirts of the capital. “This license authorizes me to sell ice cream and other products made at home. It’s the prices that are the problem. Competition is fierce and there is no wholesale market where you can buy supplies.”

Yoan’s license allows him to sell either homemade or factory produced ice cream but both options are costly.

“Selling ice cream in Cuba is a good business. In this country it is hot year round, which means the product is always in demand. But it is difficult to get and making it at home is not an option. It is very expensive and I would never be able to sell it. That leaves buying it in a store or buying from a source at an ice cream factory, either a state-run or clandestine operation. Or I could buy a tub from Coppelia for five CUC (roughly equivalent to five dollars). Either way, I would have to charge at least 0.25 CUC a scoop to turn a profit at the end of the month,” explains the young businessman.

The state’s version of excellence

“When it first opened, coming to Coppelia was great, a real pleasure,” says Virginia, a Cuban grandmother who in a few words makes it all too clear how she really feels about her experiences there. “A scoop of strawberry like in the film (Strawberry and Chocolate) had bits of strawberry in it, to say nothing of the employees. They were the best. Then it all went downhill. I remember when they even locked away the spoons. I bring my grandchildren here because I have no other choice. On my pension this is all I can afford. It’s gotten really bad, my son.”

Within the organization, the management has completely failed at fostering a positive image. Glasses, “canoes” (dishes), spoons and even employee uniforms are dirty. Many of the staff treat customers badly. What the rest of the world associates with a scoop of ice cream has become associated with corruption. All this only confirms what people waiting in line to get inside have been saying: “The Cathedral of Ice Cream is melting.”

Choosing between Chaos and a New Order / Miriam Celaya

Why are Sunday’s Venezuelan elections so important? (picture from La Nación)

Cubanet, Miriam Celaya, Havana, 4 December 2015 — Next Sunday, December 6, 2015, when the legislative elections in Venezuela finally take place, not only will they be deciding the short-term political fate of that South American nation but also, to some extent, they will be deciding future policies of various nations of this region, whose regimes — especially the Cuban government — have depended for decades on the dilapidation of the huge Venezuelan natural wealth in the hands of the “Bolivarian” claque.

These past few days, there have been several comments about the Venezuelan suffrage in the media, and various predictions have been made about the possible scenarios that might emerge from the results. The picture is complex. For the first time, since the late Hugo Chávez took office in February, 1999 and began to destroy the country’s civic structures, the Unified Socialist Party of Venezuela (PSUV) will go to the polls with a significant disadvantage compared to the opposition’s Democratic Unity Roundtable (MUD) and even below the level of independent candidates, according to data released by surveys conducted by Verobarómetro. This is a reality that the country’s president refuses to accept, threatening not to consent to any result that is adverse, and to lead the country into chaos if the “Bolivarian Revolution” loses at the polls. continue reading

On gaining control of parliament, the opposition would face the real possibility of curbing the mismanagement that Chávez initiated that has led the country to economic ruin and deep social tension, and open the door to the hope of restoring democratic order as it becomes a true counterweight to the president, a new order which would balance the forces and return power to the civic institutions guaranteeing democracy

Beyond this, the challenge for the opposition to win social spaces and legitimize its capacity as an alternative to Chavez would only have just begun, given the high rates of poverty, violence, shortages of commodities, growing discontent and the colossal inflation, these factors further complicate the already complex Venezuelan landscape. It will represent a daunting task for any alternative political force in the country in ruins.

Obviously, the first responsibility of the new parliament would be to try to solve Venezuela’s internal crisis, which will necessarily involve the control and comprehensive review of managing the national wealth, the oil, which has been the mainstay of expensively unaffordable social programs (“missions”) with which the Bolivarian government won-over the vote of the masses, and the backbone of ghostly alliances such as the ALBA and Petrocaribe programs, among other regional associations.

The “Venezuela effect” for Cuba

Although the octogenarians hierarchs, architects and sextons of what was once the Cuban Revolution, were once the ideological patrons and material beneficiaries of that other creature with congenital malformations, known as the Bolivarian Revolution, now it is obvious that the Castro regime’s survival goldmine is running out.

Falling oil prices and the waning popularity of the ruling PSUV seriously threaten the continuity of the Castro-Chavista alliance and the undeniable failure of the Cuban system is a fact, not only in Cuba but also in its transnational experiment, Cubazuela.

Not by chance have the crafty former Sierra Maestra guerrillas, shortly after the sterile “seeding” of the commander Chavez, been lobbying a hasty and secret reconciliation with the forever ‘enemy’ (and the enemy of all), the US government. They have also desperately auctioned off the crumbs that remain of this island, to make them available to the once depraved foreign capital, although potential investors have not yet resolutely taken the bait.

Another direction that is being depleted for the olive green gerontocracy is the derivative of the very juicy ‘solidarity industry’, centered around the ‘missions’ developed by Chávez at the cost of hiring, under conditions of semi-slavery, Cuban professionals, mainly from the areas of health, education and culture, which guarantee direct inflows to the Palace of the Revolution. However, this has meant a serious impairment to health care programs for Cubans and it has also brought with it the defection of thousands of doctors, who have chosen to leave for more promising destinations or to be hired in the countries where they worked as “collaborators.”

Everything indicates that the Castro-Chávez alliance strategy of domination of power disguised as socialist and nationalist ideology that temporarily combined, fairly successfully, the experiences of the failed Cuban system, the messianic ambitions of Hugo Chávez and Venezuela hydrocarbon reserves, is about to become another bad memory. It is expected that some other aberrations will be flushed down the drain with the Bolivarian Revolution. These aberrations were equally sustained by the merciless plunder of Venezuelan petrodollars, whose main objective has been spewing the leftist epidemic around the region and dealing with the North American influence in this hemisphere.

Meanwhile, ordinary Cubans are rather indifferent to the important electoral succession about to be held in Venezuela. At best, some express some concern about impending blackouts and paralysis in Cuba. Apparently, mere survival imposes too many problems for them to be interested in those faced by Venezuelans. Immediacy is the most important element of daily life in Cuba, and, currently, the subject of emigration occupies a central place in the musings of the Cuban people.

In any case, in the eventuality that a dramatic change takes place in Venezuela that might have repercussions in deepening the Cuban crisis, most likely the result will be an increase and stepping up in the tide of migration to the United States. In the end, a friend jokes that we might not even have to turn off the lights on the Desert Island when the last Cuban leaves “because, without Maduro, there will be not oil left to generate electricity.” This, literally, is a very somber expectation.

Translated by Norma Whiting

Cuban Government Prepares To Get Doctors Out Of Venezuela / Cubanet

About 35 thousand Cubans 'collaborate' in Venezuela (photo taken from Internet) — About 35 thousand Cubans ‘collaborate’ in Venezuela (photo taken from Internet)

Cubanet, Miami, 4 December 2015 – Just two days before the National Assembly elections in Venezuela, Cuban State Security and the Venezuelan National Guard are maintaining strict surveillance over the more than 30,000 Cuban health, sports and other professionals collaborating there. This information was provided to CubaNet, on condition of anonymity, by a member of the mission.

“We have spent more than 15 days ‘confined to quarters’ by State Security, which has been infiltrated among us. They have provided a plan to get us out of the country. We would leave by land or sea, if the opposition defeats the Chavista block in the legislature,” said the source.

“There is a contingency plan which was discussed in meetings held over 15 days ago. We would travel by land through the states of Brazil and Colombia. Everything is kept very low profile. We are aware and informed. We have the essentials in a backpack, we are ready to leave Venezuela,” he adds.

According to the source, the Cuban collaborators cannot leave their houses until after the elections. “They have provided food so that we don’t leave the buildings. We have suspended work activities. We are permanently monitored. Special forces are being infiltrated from Cuba, they say it is for our protection. Things are tense,” he concludes.

On Sunday, Venezuela will go to the polls to fill the 167 seats in the National Assembly. Cuba has about 40,000 doctors, dentists and health technicians serving in 66 countries. Most of the collaborators, about 35,000 have been in this South American country since the end of 2013.

Orlando Zapata Tamayo Civic Resistance Front Holds Congress in Havana / Cubanet, Arturo Rojas Rodriguez

Jorge Luis García Pérez Antúnez and Egberto Escobedo (photo by the author) — Jorge Luis García Pérez Antúnez (r) and Egberto Escobedo (l) (photo by the author)

Cubanet, Arturo Rojas Rodriguez, 3 December 2015 – This morning, in the Havana municipality of Boyeros, 53 members of the Orlando Zapata Tamayo Civic Resistance Front, representing several regions of the country, held their first congress and launched the campaign “No, No and No to Dictatorship.”

The event, which discussed among other issues the need to diversify the scenario of peaceful struggle and develop a set of strategies to promote it, was presided over by the human rights activist Jorge Luis García Pérez “Antúnez,” and was attended by, among others, Agustin Lopez Canino, director of the digital portal Cubanos de Adentro y de Abajo, and Raul Borges Alvarez, President of the Party for Christian Democratic Unity of Cuba. continue reading

Speaking to this media, Antunez said: “We developed this conclave at a crucial moment in our struggle. The members of the front I represent agree not allow the reformation of ‘Raulismo’ under the complicit gaze of the United States government and we are convinced that this is the time to move to a higher phase of the struggle.”

Orlando Zapata Tamayo Civic Resistance Front leader, calls for strengthening the peaceful struggle (photo by the author)

“We divorce ourselves from the schematic and routine methods of struggle and assume an offensive position to confront and overthrow the Cuban dictatorship,” he added.

The activity opened with a minute of silence in tribute to the deceased historic leader of the Ladies in White, Laura Pollan.

Participating in the activity were female delegations from the Orlando Zapata Tamayo Civic Resistance Front, members of the Christian Democratic Party of Cuba, and the Committee On Aid To Political Prisoners And Independent Journalists.

Despite The Obstacles, The Point Is To Leave / Cubanet, Jorge Olivera Castillo

Terminal 3 of José Martí Airport in Havana (photo taken from Internet)

Cubanet, Jorge Olivera Castillo, 3 December 2015 – We Cubans do not understand closed borders or other measures that try to keep us from arriving at the border between the United States and Mexico with the intention of crossing it and taking advantage of the Cuban Adjustment Act.

Without any doubt we prefer to risk being stranded in some of the transit countries, or die in the attempt. rather then return to the country where we were born and which we have left as if we had seen a vision

The problem is that the journey is regularly paid for with the sale of our houses and everything within them and the savings of many years. In other words, return, forced or voluntary, would be to live literally in the open-air and without a penny in our pockets. continue reading

The efforts to continue the journey through inhospitable places in the Central American geography, until the desired destination is reached, can be explained not only in that there is no longer a home to return to, but also in the fears of facing the consequences, beyond the frowns of some and the apparent indulgences of others.

Let no one doubt that in the case of return, the members of the Party and the Communist Youth, along with the political police and their collaborators, permanent and rented, would be charged with with distributing the correctives with the usual punctuality.

However, this summary of misfortunes does not interest those who will continue planning, between insomnia and impatient, the day of the flight to Ecuador or Columbia. The point is to get away from where the hopes of a better life have been exhausted, from where it is announced, at least once an hour, that socialism with the fixes prescribed by the Politburo will continue forever with no expiration date.

In these times, our compatriots who remain faithful to the proposition of seeking shelter under the cloak of Uncle Sam, believe that there are more chances of success by land than by facing the currents of the Caribbean. Hence, the stubbornness to continue on that route, despite the obstacles that have been raised in some of the countries along the way to stop the flow of Cubans.

The truth is that no one knows how this exodus will end, an exodus that by the numbers is almost as massive as were those of 1965, 1980 and 1994. Meanwhile, the representatives of the island’s regime are determined to prove their innocence in the midst of the tragedy. These sinister characters, as always, blame the stampede on Washington, on the economic financial and commercial embargo that it has maintained since the beginning of the 1960s, and on its migration-favoring Cuban Adjustment Act.

In conclusion, for the sake of the objectivity missing in the official media, controlled by the single party, the grounds for a cyclical phenomenon that has repeated itself in Cuban history for the past 55 years should be noted: the disastrous centralization of the economy, the hijacking of fundamental freedoms by the State, and the impunity of the repressive forces in their determination to protect the status of the power elite who persist in flying, in their own way, the banner of Marxism-Leninism.

The Language of the Enemy / Cubanet, Camilo Ernesto Olivera

One of the urinals is "clouse" (photo: Camilo E. Olivera) — One of the urinals is “clouse” (photo: Camilo E. Olivera)

Decades of stigmatization of the English language weigh on Cubans’ collective unconscious

Cubanet.org, Camilo Ernesto Olivera Peidro, Havana, 27 November 2015 – It was Saturday night at a restaurant located on the downtown corner of O Street and Avenue 23. The bathroom was closed but, at least not completely. A sign, placed on the door to one of the available toilets, announced that it was out of order. As the Hotel Saint John is very close by and the restaurant is in a tourist area, whoever placed the sign tried to write it in Spanish and English.

But where it meant to announce closed was written “clouse.”

Imperialism talked and sang in English

After 1972, the Russian language requirement became widespread at various levels of education.

For years, repression of Anglo music, especially rock, marked more than a generation of Cubans. According to the regime, imperialism spoke and sang in English. As a result, classics of Anglo Saxon rock and pop from the sixties and seventies were known in Cuba through Spanish versions by groups from Madrid and Barcelona. Or there emerged on the island musical duos like Maggies Carles and Luis Nodal, “translating” into Spanish songs that were originally from Britain or the United States. continue reading

Ten years later, in some urban schools and high schools, English classes were offered using the Spectrum manual. This coincided with the period that followed the first Cuban law of foreign investment in 1982. The 1990’s marked a radical change after the end of the Soviet Union. In the midst of the crisis, language schools were filled with Anglo Saxon language learners.

The Americans come. The Cubans go.

This time the US invasion seems to be serious. They are not the “assassin marines” that, like the famous “Coco” of the horror stories for children, the regime showed in its political cadre training schools. The blondes do not disembark with M-16 rifles; they arrive with sunglasses, cameras, dollars and an almost insatiable curiosity.

In the capital’s private inns and restaurants knowledge of the language pays well in order to cater to those potential visitors. Few reckon that, when the current US president leaves the White House – Obama has been the main promoter of rapprochement between the two countries – things could take another turn between the two shores. A Republican leader, winner of the November 2016 elections in the US, would have the option of reversing the current process of detente.

Nevertheless, the perspective plans for “Yuma tourism” grow in the minds of the small business owners. The closest thing to the fable of the shepherdess and her jug of milk.

Meanwhile, other Cubans offer to sell their homes, cars, bodies, whatever will bring them money. The first step is to fly to Ecuador, then begin the odyssey en route to the United States which, recently, has taken on dramatic overtones on Costa Rica’s border with Nicaragua.

Talk to me in English

English language proficiency is essential for entering the US labor market on good footing. Weighing over thousands of potential Cuban emigrants from several generations is ignorance of that language that opens doors and opportunities. Others reject it being in Cuba.

Arriving in the north, they need to double their effort in order to adapt to another way of life which includes the need to communicate in the language of the host country.

Misnamed a thousand times in Cuba as “the language of the enemy,” it is the most important commercial language in the world. The greater part of music, movies and popular culture in general that is produced and consumed at a worldwide level is of Anglo Saxon origin. Cognizance and observance of federal laws of the United States and of each state also require knowledge of English.

The United States has not only been the refuge for those who flee the Cuban regime but also a challenge to creativity and self-improvement for those who arrive from the Island. And the English language forms a logical part of that necessary challenge.

Click name for author bio: Camilo Ernesto Olivera Peidro

Translated by Mary Lou Keel

“Being in Prison is like walking through the guts of the country”/ Cubanet, Jorge Angel Perez, Angel Santiesteban

The writer Angel Santiesteban Prats (photo: Jorge Angel Perez)

Cubanet, Jorge Angel Perez, Havana, 23 November 2015 – Angel Santiesteban is the author of one of the most singular works in our literature. He has received multiple recognitions for this in Cuba and abroad. When he was very young he won the UNEAC Prize (from the Writers and Artists Union of Cuba) for his book, “Dream of a Summer Night,” and later the Alejo Carpentier Prize for “The Children Nobody Wanted.” This title also served as the name of his blog, where he has expressed himself in recent years. “Blessed are Those Who Mourn” was distinguished with the Casa de las Americas Prize.

After this brief summary, anyone unfamiliar with his work would say that he is “lucky,” but the larger truth is that he always earns what is most important: laurels from his readers. Life in prison is one of his recurring themes. Whomever starts reading his texts will discover this from the first line of many of his narrative pieces. It turns out that he was in prison twice, and in a ton of police stations. We talked for a long time about prison and his work, a few days ago at my house. And now, while transcribing our conversation, I learned why he was nominated by Reporters Without Borders to receive the Citizen Reporter prize that was just awarded to a group of Ethiopian bloggers.

Jorge Angel Perez (JAP): Angel, there are not many Cuban writers who lived through the hell of prison for two seasons. Did these two stays serve something in your writing?

Angel Santiesteban: Prison has been a rare source of nutrition; relating the events I lived, that I witnessed, has been my armor. Thanks to writing I didn’t lose my head. I think what I experienced intensely in those times gave my writing a great spontaneity. A writer with great imagination could write a great book without being imprisoned, but you can’t deny that someone who was there could tell it with more candor… continue reading

JAP: Is this reflected in your book, “Men without Woman,” of Montenegro…

Angel Santiesteban: I think so. Being in prison helped me to have the spontaneity and sincerity literature requires. That candor always remains. So while I passed those two times through that hell, I was thinking about the stories I could find, and how it might serve my work. Thinking about finding material for writing saved me, made those difficult stretches less so.

JAP: Finding those stories …

Angel Santiesteban: I found them there and they were what saved me. Going to prison is like going to war. The prisoner and the soldier have a lot in common. Both are far from home. Both are incommunicado. Both have unmet sexual desires. Both are under a military command that can be abusive and can impose, many times, in a humiliating way. Every day you are in danger of losing your life; in prison at the hands of a criminal and in war you can be killed by the enemy.

JAP: It is there that you will find stories that will serve you later, but the truth is you didn’t go voluntarily to rummage through the prison and the behavior of the prisoners.

Angel Santiesteban: I went because they took me, forced me. The last time I went to prison because I believed, and I still believe, that I could do something to make my country better, to make it democratic. Fidel once said that a better world is possible, and I went to find this better world, to find this better Cuba. That cost me prison. Because I wanted to get this world, I started in my house, for this country I love. My literary teachers told me what was important was to write, that it was my work I should pay attention to, the first thing was to write, to publish, to get readers. Write, write and write. Many friends, and those teachers, thought that a writer doesn’t need to do anything else.

JAP: And do you believe it?

Angel Santiesteban: No, I do not believe it. That is a lie, but I believed it for many years. For a long time I devoted myself only to writing. I built a body of work, I published books and I remained silent… out of fear.

JAP: And where did you leave that fear?

Angel Santiesteban: It is still with me. It never left, but I learned to accommodate it. I never lost the fear of going to prison. There you could die in an instant, and this is terrible. Fear comes to me when I think I won’t be able to be with my children, with my family at the moment when they most need me. Imagining this moment makes a strong impression on me. It scares me to think about the possibility of their getting sick and not being able to help them. My daughter was at university when they arrested me the last time and that made me feel responsible

JAP: And who was responsible?

Angel Santiesteban: Viewed simply it should be me, but the real blame lies with those who arrested me. It was an unjust arrest and that was distressing. It was the possibility that her father was in prison again that made her sad, and so she decided not to go to school, so she missed class, so she had to justify her absence. I imagine how many times she thought she would have to go to the prison again to be with her father in his incarceration. Who really is to blame for her anguish. Me?

It makes me very happy that she is studying. I want her to graduate, and nourish her desires to study, but a young student will not feel very comfortable in the classroom knowing that her father is unjustly imprisoned. I’m also distressed when I see them come to the prison. To see boys of 17 or 18 visiting a prisoner is not comforting. My first incarceration had to do with accompanying my family to the coast when they wanted to leave the country forever. I ended up in prison but I didn’t have children. The last time they were grown and studying. The father of both of them was in prison for seeking democracy. And they knew what this could cost me.

JAP: What is democracy for you?

Angel Santiesteban: Saying what I think out loud and nobody is bothered. Saying what I like and everyone understands that this right exists and everyone joins us, and everyone understand that there are ideas different from the ideas of those in charge. Is it so difficult to understand this? I think it is good to converse, and the differences you have with those in power should not send you to prison. For me, that is democracy.

JAP: And are you prepared to converse to get this democracy?

Angel Santiesteban: Of course, that is what it’s about. I can converse with a Communist if he is able to listen to me with respect, if he allows me to act according to my assumptions. I have that right, although they have taken it from me I know I have it. I can also converse with a liberal. I can converse with those in power and those who oppose it even though we may not agree on everything. I just refuse to converse with those who foster terrorism. At this table I want to defend my right to express myself. If now I engage in political activity it is because I intend to find that democracy where everyone can coexist, even with their differences. I would love it if in the future it is said about me, if I am mentioned in a line, that is what it says.

JAP: And your writing?

Angel Santiesteban: I prefer to talk before the effort of engaging in the dialogue, about my dreams of democracy, that it be said that I confronted those who did not let me express myself. I want this, and it can be said very briefly, in just one line.

JAP: Just recently you were detained in a police station. Why?

Angel Santiesteban: Anything I could tell you would be conjecture, everything would be a supposition. I don’t have the truth. I think it was more than a threat, that they were trying to revoke my parole, to send me back to prison.

JAP: Why do you think so?

Angel Santiesteban: They told me there was an accusation from my ex-wife, the mother of my son. They showed it to me and I recognized her signature, but she told our son that she hadn’t accused me. They could have forged her signature to intimidate me. I haven’t seen her for a long time, so there was no threat, but later the (independent journalist) Maria Marienzo was at the station investigating, interested in me, and they said I was a prisoner because I broke in and burgled someone, however they told (Antonio) Rodiles the same thing they had said to me, that I had violated the domicile of the mother of my son.

They never agreed among themselves the reason for my detention. I believe, and this is a supposition, that it all had to do with a text I wrote the previous day, before being arrested, where I denounced the imprisonment of Lamberto Hernandez Planas, where I commented on his hunger strikes, the risks to his health, and also demanded his immediate release. Everything has to do with my political activities, with my opposition. I do not threaten anyone, much less did I break in and burgle someone.

JAP: What happened then?

Angel Santiesteban: After my son announced to me that his mother had not accused me, what I knew for sure was that they had arrested me, they stopped showing the alleged accusation of my ex. The next day I was taken to the provincial court. When we arrived, the police officers accompanying me wanted to know in which room the trial be held, and someone said to take me to an office. There I waited for the president of the court and she told me my freedom had been revoked. There was a brief silence and then she continued. She said that despite the revocation I would be set free, and suggested that I behave myself, that I must behave very well.

JAP: And do you think you could go back to prison?

Angel Santiesteban: Maybe, but I hope the pretext would be less crude than the one they used to imprison me last time. If they were less heavy-handed they might send me, if there were a next time, on a fellowship to Paris or Berlin. Never to prison. That is the worst thing you can do with a writer. Can you imagine what you could write there?

JAP: I don’t want to imagine it, it frightens me.

Angel Santiesteban: A writer will write everything he sees, everything serves him. A criminal will listen to other people’s stories and maybe it serves him to plan his next wrongdoing, but a writer analyzes every detail, every gesture, every story, and then he isn’t going to resist it, he is going to write it, and people are going to read it, to find out what happens there.

Being in prison is like walking through the guts of the country. Imagine the reader when he reads these putrid descriptions. Everything I saw fed this desire to write, to publish on my blog, to write stories, to do what I think is better for my country. I wrote a lot there. I wrote stories, from this stay in prison a novel emerged. From the stories they told me during those hours I spent in the police station, many narrative pieces could come. And there is also my blog. From there, I will continue recounting, without stopping, without them making me stop.

Vladimiro Roca: “Many just saw me as the son of Blas Roca” / Cubanet, Martha Beatriz Roque Cabello

vladimir roca — Vladimiro Roca, in an interview with CubaNet (photo by the author)

Cubanet, Martha Beatriz Roque Cabello, Havana, 16 November 2015 – Vladimiro Roca Antunez is one of “the old guard” group of dissidents who is still in Cuba. He holds a degree in International Economic Relations, and was a MIG fighter pilot in the Revolutionary Armed Forces. He served 5 years, from 1997 to 2002, in Ariza prison in Cienfuegos, as one of a group of four dissidents who wrote “The Nation Belongs to Everyone.”

Vladimir will be 72 on December 21. His family, friends and neighbors call him Pepe.

Martha Beatriz Roque: What were your years as a MIG fighter pilot like? Where did you learn to fly these planes?

Vladimir Roca: I have always considered the years I spent as a pilot, both as a fighter and in transport, as the best of my life, because the profession of pilot is entirely vocational. Anyone who doesn’t feel a passion for flying can never be a good pilot, and not just a good one, not even an ordinary one.

Speaking of my years as a pilot is something that fills me with emotion. The day that I flew solo for the first time, it was the greatest feeling of freedom I have felt in all the days of my life. It’s very hard to describe. continue reading

I studied in the former Soviet Union. I was in the first group of young rebels who studied aviation in that country. We went for a quick course that was supposed to last a year, but then there was a change of plans and they divided up the group of pilots into those who would end up flying the MIG-15, those who passed to flying the MIG-19, and a group that was going to fly the Il-28 tactical bombers. I was in the last group, as a bomber navigator in those planes.

During the Missile Crisis, the bombers were retired. When I returned to Cuba, I went to a base in the Holguin area, which was under the command of then First Lieutenant Rafael del Pino. He put me to flying the MIG-15s.

Martha Beatriz Roque: People associated with politics locate you on the left. From the ideological point of view, what is your position?

Vladimir Roca: It is a definition that comes from our founding of the Democratic Socialist Current, with many people who defined themselves as leftists. As for me, from the practical point of view I define myself more as center left, with a tendency to the center, because according to physics the equilibrium is in the center, and this is precisely what I seek. The extremes are, in my opinion, pernicious.

Serving a Meal, a True Luxury / Cubanet, Miriam Celaya

Policemen trying to control line to purchase potatoes (file picture)

Cubanet, Miriam Celaya, HAVANA, 6 November 2015 — Hopes and expectations that encouraged Cubans at the beginning of 2015, following the announcement of the restoration of relations between the governments of Cuba and the US, have vanished completely. Over the past eleven months there has not been a hint of any economic improvement for the population, and the end of the year is expected to be grim, judging by, among other factors, rising prices in the food sector, our most important market.

Visits around numerous commercial shops and roving street markets in the populous municipality of Centro Habana, in the neighborhoods of San Leopoldo, Pueblo Nuevo and Cayo Hueso, evidence the shortages in merchandise, the low quality of products and the unstoppable rise in prices. Pork meat – the Cuban indicator par excellence –– fluctuates between 45 and 50 pesos per pound; while black beans go for 10 to 12 pesos. Other grains are priced beyond the reach of most pockets. The price for one pound of red beans has reached 17 pesos, while white beans cost between 18 and 20, and the price of chick peas has risen to 22. continue reading

Meanwhile, greens and vegetables are competing in this amazing climb. A pound of tomatoes at the San Rafael market costs 25 pesos; bunches of carrots or beets – a variable, indefinite and inaccurate national-trade measure — are priced at 20 pesos, same as a pound of small onions and peppers, placed on pallets next to the also stunted cabbages, advertised at 15 pesos apiece. Avocado prices may fluctuate between 7 and 10 pesos apiece. However, during the weekends it reaches up to 12 pesos.

Tubers and other vegetables are not beyond the amazing rise in prices. Thus, a pound of taro costs 8 pesos, twice the price of yucca and yams, which are between 3 and 4 pesos. Small to medium plantains sell for 4 pesos apiece.

A quick calculation, taking as a base the so-called Cuban average income – between 400 and 450 pesos (around $23 U.S.) per month, according to official data — results in the obvious conclusion that the purchasing power of the median active labor force has continue to decline, not to mention the growing aging demographic sector, dependent on miserable retirement pensions, or aid from relatives, when they can afford to help, or on the solidarity of some nice neighbor who might occasionally offer a plate of food. Getting a full meal in Cuba has virtually become a true luxury.

Few differences exist between one retail outlet and another, and between the municipalities in the capital. The last four months of the year have shown the highest increases in food prices to date, for a population whose incomes, whether stemming from salaries, retirement funds, remittances from relatives living abroad, or some other source, is increasingly inadequate, not only to satisfy living demands, but insufficient to cover the barest necessities: food, clothing, footwear and shelter.

More than four years have transpired since the ‘updating of the model’, with government experimentation in the retail sale of agricultural products by ‘self-employed’ sellers (pushcart vendors) as well as by non-state cooperative farmers markets, and the upward trend of food prices, far from ceasing, has accelerated its rate, which indicates a failure in the official plans for this important issue – production and commercialization of foodstuffs to satisfy the needs of the population and at the same time replace imports — which was one of the most important items in the guidelines of the April 2011 Sixth Congress of the Cuban Communist Party (PCC).

It is mandatory to hang propaganda posters at the entrances to farmers’ markets and retail outlets. (file photo)

The internal situation in Cuba, with its shortages and deficiencies in an ascending mode is looking increasingly more each day like the situation we endured in the 90’s, following the collapse of that house of cards which was once called “the Socialist Camp”. At the same time, the Cuban people’s discontent, despair, and the stampede overseas continue to grow.

The bubble of dreams awakened last December has been popped by the stubborn reality of a system designed for the benefit of the hired applauders who cling to power and to the submission of the rest of society. A general feeling of frustration continues to rise in Cuba, but nobody seems to know how to channel disappointment except by escaping, by any means, from this life-sentence of misery.

Paradoxically, the spiral of poverty that marks everyday life on the Island seems to be the most effective weapon of the regime to maintain social control to date. And, while ordinary Cubans, unaware of tomorrow, continue to rummage with resignation from one market to another, foraging among the small dirty pallets for their scarce daily food, flocks of raptor merchants arrive from overseas to the International Fair of Havana so they may fight for any good slice that the spoils and the ruins of the national-failure-converted-into-merchandise, by guerrillas-turned oligarchs, might offer them. The capital celebration has once again opened its doors in Cuba, but we Cubans are not invited.

Translated by Norma Whiting

National Capitol: Restoring Symbols / Cubanet, Miriam Celaya

Havana’s Capitol Building (photograph from the internet)

Cubanet, Miriam Celaya, Havana, 5 October 2015 — In recent days the official Cuban press published a report on the National Capitol building restoration work currently underway, in order to get it ready for the operation of the National Assembly at an unspecified future date.

Unfortunately, the report suffers from inaccuracies and from the typical flourishes of the Cuban school of journalism, which focuses more on the emotions of the author during his quick tour of the works and his personal adventure aboard a winch at over 262 feet above ground than on the truly interesting questions that might interest a fairly astute reader, for instance, the total cost of the work five years after the start of the project, which has already exceeded the length of time that it took to construct the iconic building, or the reasons that led to the decision to return this structure to its original function of hosting Parliament after its deliberate and systematic destruction and its Republican values by the willpower of Castro I. continue reading

Another interesting detail would be to find out whether the great 25 carat diamond will be returned to its original place at the feet of the Statue of the Republic, under the 301-foot high cupola, a spot marking Kilometer Zero of that other icon of Cuban civil engineering, the Central Highway. This point seems particularly allusive, since the referenced report includes that this building receives grade one protection, that is, that the building’s original configuration should be preserved and unaltered, including both structural and ornamental elements.

Details of restored ceiling and bronze fixture (author’s photograph)

The Enigma of “Kilometer Zero”

Thus, in addition to the issue of the enormous cost of the magnificent building’s rehabilitation in the midst of a city whose housing stock is literally falling apart, the current restoration of the National Capitol places the enigma of its diamond back in the limelight, a topic deserving of its own separate chronicle.

The gem is surrounded by legend, and it is said to have belonged to a Russian czar, and to have arrived in Cuba in the hands of a Turkish jeweler who bought it in France. Prior to that, its origin is ambiguous and hazy. What we know for sure is that it was bought by the government of General Gerardo Machado y Morales (1925-1933) and destined to meet the young Republic’s excessive national vanity when it was planted in the main floor of the emblematic Capitol.

During the second presidency of Dr. Ramón Grau San Martín (1944-1948) it was rumored to have been stolen by an obscure police lieutenant or by a corrupt official. The mystery has never been cleared up completely, but the diamond was returned to the base of the Statue of the Republic, where it remained in view of visitors until 1973.

From that time, the fate of the controversial gem is a complete mystery, when without notice and under circumstances unknown to the public, the decision to replace it with a replica was made. Reportedly, the original was placed in the vault of the Cuban National Bank. There is no reliable testimony or evidence to corroborate the story, but popular speculation has it that the omnipotent dictator, former President Fidel Castro, assumed ownership of the gem. There are also those “in the know” who say that the precious stone was removed from the country years ago, under the auspices of the autocrat himself, but neither of these versions has been confirmed and those truly or supposedly involved have kept absolute silence on this matter.

A Return Road

Over five decades ago, and in the name of a revolution with a short life but with devastating and prolonged effects, the Capitol building was seized by the Unmentionable. The chambers of Congress were disabled and the majestic building was delivered in the early 1960’s to the then newborn Cuban Academy of Sciences, an institution with congenital malformations, whose cost and name would far exceed its functions. This institution was responsible for methodically destroying most of the heritage furniture and other interior facilities of the property.

Over a period of several years, successive partitions were constructed inside the Capitol building which affected the walls and columns, while the interior gardens at the north and south wings and the light fixtures, plumbing, stained glass, mirrors, curtains, tapestries and frescoes decorating the interior suffered the ravages of the neglect and rapacity of the new occupants.

Meanwhile, basements often flooded and were not drained at appropriate intervals, so the resulting moisture affected hydraulic and electrical installations.

Under the arch of the staircase, the Tomb of the Unknown Mambí* and related statues were desecrated for decades, since this area was regularly used to load and unload “maintenance” service trucks, and eventually became a virtual automotive repair shop for the Academy.

The exterior Versailles-style original gardens were gradually transformed into makeshift sports areas where children and adolescents would skate and play soccer or baseball, to the consequent detriment of the gardens, while the constant plodding of pedestrians through them turned the once green lawns into dirt footpaths.

The outer corners at the foot of the Chambers had become literally impassable because they were saturated by the stench of those passersby who regularly used the area to relieve themselves, while the rear esplanade became places where senior groups would do their morning exercises, and the side ramps of the majestic stairs served as slides for all the surrounding neighborhoods’ kids to play on.

All the surrounding areas oozed with the filth and decay inherent in the system. It might be said the government’s intent was to subject, through humiliation, the stunning arrogance of this proud symbol of the Republic.

Inner courtyard and gardens of the north wing, restored (photo by the author)

Towards the end of the 1980’s another one of the raves of Castro I — “the greatest” Library of Science and Technology in Latin America — played havoc with the rich collection of the Cuban Library of Congress, which miraculously had hitherto remained relatively intact and safe from voracious predation. Lots of valuable books, fruit of human knowledge and treasures of world culture ended up strewn and on piles on the floor of the Salón de los Pasos Perdidos (The Gallery of Lost Steps) at the mercy of the violence of some “scientists” turned-retailers, a fact that -of course- was not documented by the official press or by government institutions, but one that numerous eyewitnesses and I can attest to. Someday, this episode should be included among the losses caused to Cubans by so much official vandalism, and we should demand reparation.

The brand new library never reached the heights that The Amazing-in-Chief dreamed of, nor fulfilled the functions over which such mayhem took place. Thus, apathy and detriment continued to rule over the Capitol, turning it into a pitiable spectrum of what it was during the Republic. Interestingly, the product of what so many engineers, architects and artists created had been almost destroyed by the power of one man.

However, to everyone’s surprise, despite the economic crisis facing the country, and counter to the growing needs of the population, the largest restoration ever made to the Cuban National Capitol is currently being undertaken by the Office of the City’s Historian.

As usual, the authorities have not bothered to report the amounts and sources of funds that have been earmarked for construction. Transparency is not a quality that adorns autocracies, and the “reformist” spirit of the General-President is not enough, but it is assumed that the restoration of the rich stained glass windows, the bronzes, the marble, the tapestries, the sculptures, the frescoes, the furnishings and the precious woods, plus the carpentry to restore doors and windows to their original appearance, will reach a very large sum.

To date, they have already completed work on most of the north wing of the building and its gardens, now visible to the public. Project leaders want to tempt the public with a preview of its restored appearance.

Capitol building, partial view of north gardens (Author’s photograph)

Perhaps in a not too distant future, people in Havana traveling through the area will gaze at that colossal symbol of the city with renewed pride. By then, another phase may be over of the curious cycle of the return to symbols — and only symbols — of the Republican tradition orchestrated by Castro II. Perhaps many Cubans, with the patience worthy of better causes, will resign themselves to gaze over the beautiful gardens and the imposing Capitol glamour, to later return to their daily hopelessness and poverty. Or maybe they will decide to change their own reality, convinced that restoration of prosperity and democracy are not included in government projects.

*Rebels from the Cuban Wars of Independence from Spain

Laughing at the Castros, a Mortal Sin / Cubanet, Victor Manuel Dominguez

Eleuterio, character in the play “Crematorium” (archive photo)

For the Cuban government, when satire is against the “enemy,” it is useful and refreshing. Otherwise it is subversive

Cubanet.org, Victor Manuel Dominguez, Havana, 15 October 2015 – In a country where joking, sarcasm, satire, mockery, in sum, any kind of humor, are more daily than our stunted, acidic, furry and greenish daily bread, the authorities become tense and wage war on any joke large or small that unleashes laughter.

Apparently, political and economic control, leftovers for citizens and other deeds by a Revolution in power, prevent them from chuckling, laughing or even cracking a smile that allows them to resemble a human being and not the miserable lout who fears a raspberry more than the Devil on the cross. continue reading

According to the article, A Very Serious Joke, published in the State newspaper Granma by Sergio Alejandro Gomez, the Office of Cuban Broadcasting (OCB) from the United States, is prepared to finance an act of subversion in Cuba, in the form of a satirical program.

Mocked Mockers

For the information and serenity of the “de-humarized” spokesman, if “humor is the gentler of despair,” as Oscar Wilde said, we Cubans are the friendly gentlemen of the joke, the courteous knights of mockery, and the attentive guests of parody, in a country where one laughs in order not to cry.

And if not even Jorge Manach himself, with his Investigation of Mockery, could prevent us Cubans from laughing at ourselves, still less will a bitter dictator be able to do it, a lap dog with an anemic smile or anyone who publicly censors humor because of fear and locks himself away in order to laugh.

Besides, there is no one like the Cuban authorities for inciting mockery as long they are not mocked. From the beginning of the Revolution, the magazine Mella and the Juventud Rebelde supplement, El Sable, began to satirize the American people, their government and their way of life.

Marcos Behmaras, in his Salacious Stories from Reader’s Indigestion and Other Tales mocked them with “a fresh and suggestive humor, a tone in keeping with our character, but always provoking reflection by means of accurate, witty satire through a sense of humor that always attacks deeply, not remaining on the surface,” according to “joke-ologist” Aleida Lilraldi Rodriguez.

Which is to say that when satire is directed at the other, the enemy, it is useful and refreshing. Otherwise, it is subversive. If Marcos Behmaras had trained his satirical guns at olive-green prudishness and excessive modesty, the salacious stories would have fallen on him like a flood of party membership cards.

His brilliant satirical articles Is It Worth It Having Money?, Those Happy Ones Dead from Hunger, by “Miss Mona P. Chugga” Eisenhower’s Trip: Failure or Triumph? by “Mary Wanna,” or Are You a Potential Psychopath? by “Doctor John Toasted” would have gotten him condemned to death for joking.

A Hanging Offense

To illustrate even further what a joke, satire or any other kind of humor costs when it is aimed at a totalitarian regime, let’s remember, incidentally, that The Joke (1961), a novel by Czech writer Milan Kindera, was described as “the Bible of the counter-revolution.” Another of his works, The Book of Laughter and Forgetfulness, got him stripped of his nationality. Tolerant, no?

But Cuban rulers do not lag far behind. Like imitators of any system or religion, they consider laughter a relaxation of good customs, a lack of seriousness and from other priestly poses that bring on death by boredom, they contribute their grain of bitterness against humor.

In the 1960’s, the comedy duo Los Tadeos was expelled from Cuban television and exiled for the simple crime of asking on a live program: “What is the crowning achievement for a president?” and answering: “Starving people to death and giving them a free burial.”

Around the same time, but in the Marti Theater, a comedian as great as Leopoldo Fernandez (Three Skates), in a scene where he had to hang several paintings of famous figures on the wall, on seeing that one was the image of Fidel, he pointed at it with his finger and said: “Look, I hung him.” It was the last straw.

That joke sufficed to have him shut out of the theater, and the humorist had to leave for exile or starve at home. And although other cases right up to today attest to the rulers’ fear of mockery or satire, none remained in the popular imagination like those.

All except for a popular and prescient joke that was attributed to Cataneo, a singer with Trio Taicuba, who on seeing the Caravan of Liberty with the bearded ones pass along Havana’s Malecon on that distant January 8^th of 1959, he was said to say: “Only those who know how to swim will be saved.” And so it was.

Translated by Mary Lou Keel

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