Waiting to be Evicted by Force / Iván García

Right now, Teófilio Roberto López, age 66, is out of his mind. He ambles like a lunatic doing the paso doble along the edges of his farm, located a stone’s throw from the National Highway.

Lopez is on the razor’s edge. All of his possessions, erected with sacrifice and with the help of his eight brothers who live in the United States, are lost. Sitting on the large porch of his two-story home, rocking frenetically in an ivory-colored rocking chair, with a frown and a threatening gesture, he vented his ire.

“When the authorities enter my property to evict me, I’ll make a ruckus. All this” — and with his thick index finger, he signaled everything around him — “I built in 30 years, so that my family and I could live comfortably,” said the elderly Teófilo, a gentleman of medium stature, who speaks at the speed of light and with nervous movements of his hands.

The case of Teófilo goes back to July of 2009, when the minister of Finance and Prices, Lina Olidna Pedraza Rodriguez, ordered the Directorate of Housing of the municipality of Arroyo Narranjo, in Havana, to confiscate the belongings of the family of Teófilo, outlined in Decree 149 — the law against new riches — that permits the dispossession of properties of a person for “improper enrichment.”

Here began the ordeal of the Lopez family. If there’s one thing Teófilo has known all his life, it is work. Born in 1944 on a remote plantation in the province of Sancti Spiritus, 400 kilometers from Havana, he has labored hard to come out ahead.

In 1996, together with his son Antonio Lopez, age 40, and his wife, Elsa Avila, age 60, the Lopez Avilas began a small personal business. They established a small but successful roadside cafe.

Highly particular, the elderly Teófilo saved the receipts from the repairs to his home and those from the money sent to him by his brothers from Florida.

He saved all the documents regarding his properties in a file. “When I obtained this house as owner, it was a miserable shack. Thanks to our efforts, we constructed a spacious home and began to work the land,” recalls Teófilo.

The family farm was 0.6 hectares, and from a bird’s-eye view it was obviously well cared for, and one could see groves of mango, avocado, guayaba, orange, plantain, and dwarf coconut plants.

To this, Teófilo added pig breeding, and had obtained six cows that produced hundreds of liters of milk. In the best months of the farm and the cafe, the income exceeded 30,000 pesos (1,400 dollars). Along with the remittances sent to him from the north, he was able to build a residence that, by Cuban standards, was “luxurious.”

He even built a small swimming pool, to spend time with his family and his brothers, who visited the island up to three times a year. Teófilo knew he broke the law when his son Antonio began to rent the house without a license.

“We paid an outlandish fine, and they seized our house from my son. I believe this was my family’s only error. From that moment on, the authorities were out for me. They weren’t able to catch me in any more illegal activity. I have papers that attest to that,” noted Teófilo while he sipped from a cup of coffee.

The Lopez family has tried everything through legal channels. But they have not been able to stop the bureaucratic machine, which set the month of August as the date to kick them out on the street. In exchange, they offered the family a minimal house, cracked and damp, with only one bedroom.

In the deepest part of his soul, Teófilo considers that the state is acting against him arbitrarily. And he has considered the worst. From setting fire to his property, to setting up with a rifle in the middle of his plantation, refusing to abandon it.

After consulting with a group of attorneys from a firm on the margins of state control, he made up his mind. Laritza Diversent, one of the attorneys who helped him, believes that if, in Cuba, its own laws are respected, Teófilo would come out on top in this case, and the state would have to return what had been seized up until that point. And those were not little things: two cars, a motorcycle, and countless electronic appliances valued at two million pesos, according to official appraisers.

Meanwhile, while justice decides, with each dawn the Lopez family waits for the authorities, supported by the police, to evict them, by force, from their farm.

Whatever happens, Teófilo thinks that his biggest crime was to try to have a prosperous life. “This is not looked well upon, in Cuba,” he said, hanging his head. His eyes tear up. “I’m too old to try to start a new life.”

Iván García

More about this story in “Minister puts a citizen in defenseless position.”

Translated by: Gregorio

August 15, 2010

And Presenting the Names of Some Cubans / Iván García

My grandmothers were called Carmen and Andrea, and my grandfathers, Jose Manuel and Rafael. Names are given according to the era. My uncles and aunts were given common names: Luis, Mario, Candida, Teresa, Maria, Dulce, Augustine, Maximus, Adelaide, Victoria, Milagros, Lidia… The exception was Avelino, no longer in use, and Veneta, of Italian origin.

For siblings, cousins and nephews, the tradition began to change: Tamila, Yaricel, Himely, Yuri, Yania, Mathew … Of the six mentioned, three are written with a Y. A boom that began in the 70s and still continues, as with the names of stars. The most popular, Maikel, is for Michael Jackson, a national idol.

It has become common to “nationalise” foreign names. So, for Ricardo, they say Richard; Billy for Guillermo, Robert for Roberto; Tony for Antonio; Maggie for Margarita; and Elizabeth for Isabel, amongst others. We gave my daughter the name Melany, from the French Creole version of Melanie.

Many parents opt for combinations like Sarim (Sara and Manuel), Leidan (Leida and Daniel), Franmar (Francisco and Marina) and Julimar (Julio and Maria) of endless possibilities which sometimes seem like trademarks. There are some who have wanted to be more original and have given their children the name of the parent reversed: Legna (Angel), Anele (Elena), Oiluj (Julio) and Otsenre (Ernesto).

Some recall characters and conflicts in other places: Lenin, Yasser, Indira, Hanoi, Libia, Nairobi, Namibia … Some are geographic: Israel, Argentina, Africa, Asia, America … Or planetary: Luna, Sol, Venus …

Soap operas have had an influence, too. In 1984, when the Brazilian serial started, a woman was called Malú, and many girls (and also dogs and cats) were given the name Malú. Others got the nicknames of the soap opera of the day. Like Dondita, a girl whose true identity nobody knows.

Even though in Cuba you can go to the civil registry and file a change of name, those who do not like the label given them by their parents tend to change it on their own, without wasting time on paperwork. This is the case with Yanet who hates the Yanci of Charity which she is registered as. When the mail carrier changed, the new one did not know that the correspondence directed to Yanet was for Yanci.

Amongst athletes born since the 1980s, there are many names beginning with Y: Yan, Yipsi, Yadel, Yumisleidys, Yoroemis, Yunel, Yoennis, Yargelis, Yannelis, Yunidis,Yeimer, Yuniseski, Yuriorkis, Yormani, Yoerkis… And a few rare ones: Jonder, Dayan, Level, Vismay, Gelkis, Uziel, Erislandy, Salatiel, Vicyohhandri, Osbiel, Roidel, Asniel, Edisbel, Leovel, Mijaín, Idales, Eglys and Arasay, among others selected at random from a long list.

In 2004, in the newspaper Juventud Rebelde, they gave the example of Rayni Rodriguez, then 11 years old, whose parents gave him the name because he was born one rainy morning: Rayni is a variation of Rainy in English. The boy confessed that he would have liked to be called David, after Bisbal “a singer whom I admire a lot.”

In that report are mentioned other cases of Cubans with unusual names: Evergreen, Mylady, Sugarcandy, Geisha, Danger, Alien y Usnavy. Perhaps none is as bizarre as Yunaiestei. It only lacks the addition of “of America.”

Iván García

Photo: Yargelis Savigne (Guantánamo, 1984), gold medalist in triple jump, World Athletics Championships Berlin 2009 .

Translated by: CIMF

August 16, 2010

Raul Castro, On the Fence / Iván García

General Raul Castro is trying to give shape to the land he’s promised. El Dorado, the “Cuban socialist paradise,” requires time and patience. And confidence in the old leaders who have ruled the destinies of Cubans for 51 years.

The Castros want to dance the old-style danzón. No reggaeton. Farewell to emergencies and haste. The changes will be controlled and jealously scrutinized under a magnifying glass.

In the latest speech of the Cuban president, as is usual on the island, there are hidden meanings. Subtle codes. Political carpentry. But then you dismantle all the artifice of the partisan jargon, the veiled threats to dissenters and the tiresome slogans, and you note that in the words of Castro II there are two speeches.

One holds everything we read in the press. The other, what isn’t said. Up to a point I understand the Creole mandarins. It’s hard for them to speak frankly about the failure of the economic model and the innumerable disasters committed by Fidel Castro in the administration of the country.

Then he gilds the pill. But when you deconstruct the words of Raul you come to a logical conclusion: the transformations promised to us by the government are the same neo-liberal shock therapy applied by any capitalist country when it enters an economic crisis.

And worse. In capitalist societies there are pockets of unemployment. The island’s government has promised to be more severe with those who hang around in the streets. It’s rumored they will only be paid 60% of their salary for one month. Then, they can get by however they can.

To offset the rising tide of the unemployed, which will exceed a million people, they will expand the rules for self-employment.

But this remains to be seen. Look, in moments when the rope tightens around their neck, the Castro’s often give way. Then, when they get some oxygen, they tighten the rope and return to paralysis, the preferred rhythm of the Havana regime.

On the street, there are more doubts than hopes. It’s good to work for yourself, make money and improve the quality of your life. But it’s not easy. If the government doesn’t lower the taxes, call off the inspectors, and ease up on the constant obstacles in the way of private work, Raul’s announcement won’t be effective.

To establish a private cafe or restaurant in Cuba isn’t always possible. First: where do you get the money. Second: on the island the banks don’t offer credit nor lend money. Third: with regards to getting money, people wonder if the government won’t continue to look askance at it.

Because to have a business and prosper is something that doesn’t appeal to the Castro brothers. For the simple reason that every person that stops living off the State’s tit and manages to become independent, will always constitute a threat to the regime.

Money engenders power, influence and the desire to change the rules of the fame. The Castros know this. So they have always been afraid of private employment. Their interest is that those who don’t work for the State may look for a few pesos, but only enough to eat and little else.

The Castro brothers don’t want any new rich. And the ordinary people are aware of the danger of prospering. They know that hundreds of the paladares (private restaurants) were closed and that people were even imprisoned, accused of “illicit enrichment.”

When self-employment surged in 1994, the majority of those who accomplished it had family or friends abroad.

To establish a decent restaurant that will give a return on the investment requires no less than $8,000 dollars. Do the math. Buying the utensils, stoves, refrigerators, food and paying two or three employees. If, as Castro II said, one can hire workers, then it follows that one could establish small or medium-sized businesses. What worries a certain segment of the population is whether there will be a hook at the end of the line, as has happened at other times.

In any event, the good news from Raul’s speech was the reference to self-employment. The negatives were the threats to the opposition. His message was clear. If you believe the government will compromise on political questions, you’re mistaken. The jails will remain open and the laws allow the imprisonment of a dissident or journalist for 20 years or more remain in effect in the Republic.

It remains to be seen if they were empty words and typical bravado to pacify the Taliban frightened of change. Otherwise, it has been demonstrated that closed system need prisoners as a currency of exchange for any situation that arises. Now the prisons may be emptied. Will they be filled again?

Iván García

Photo: AFP

August 8, 2010

Thanks For Your Comments / Iván García

Once or twice a week, I connect to the internet from a hotel in Havana. Connections from Cuba tend to be very slow, and the time gets used up trying to send in my work. When I have a few minutes, I go to the blog, but I can hardly ever read and respond to comments.

Thank you for being regular readers of the blog and for leaving your opinions.

Sincerely,

Iván García Quintero

Translated by: CIMF

Cuban Counter-Intelligence Demands Respect for the Military / Iván García

Military institutions always produce fear.  Even if they treat you with respect.  This past Monday, August 9th, Havana looked a lot like London.  A thin and bothersome rain had been pouring down all day, so much so that even our bones were soaked.

Saturday, the 7th, a State Security official had dropped off a citation for an interview with Colonel Enrique from Military Counter-Intelligence.

At around 9 in the morning, I arrived at the armed forces center, where they train elite troops. A friendly official offered me a rain coat and then led me to a building painted in lime green with light red trimmings.

The building looked like a detention center.  A young chubby man led me to a small waiting room, but first he asked me to turn in my cell phone.

The room was tiny and consisted of metal furniture with black leather.  The A/C was turned up to the max.  Apparently, the measures to save energy are strictly enforced throughout the country, but not in this military unit.

Colonel Livan, from Military Counter-Intelligence, and a major dressed in civilian clothes (and who said his name was Aguila and that he was from State Security) were my amiable interrogators.  After taking down some notes, they got straight to the point.

They were upset because of an article I wrote entitled “The liberation of the political prisoners reinforces the role of the Cuban military“, which was published in the newspaper El Mundo (‘The World’) on July 14th.  According to the officials, in the article I gravely discredited Cuban military institutions.

A debate began.  I alleged that it was my personal opinion.  They respected my opinion, but felt that I had been subjected in appreciating the role of certain generals.

“Cuba is a country of rights, and before reaching any penal sanctions, we warn people as many time as we must,” major Aguila told me in a low and neutral voice.

I jumped up like a spring.  “Do you think that in a country of rights a person gets cited for writing a newspaper article?” I asked him frankly.

“In other countries they don’t cite you, they kill you,” interupted Colonel Livan.  Both officials made it clear to me that, although there is some level of tolerance towards the independent press and the opposition, permissiveness should not be confused with impunity.

We never agreed on who was right.  It wasn’t about that.  I explained my reasons to them as a man who feels free enough to write and have different opinions from the official discourse.

I consider it to be my right.  They didn’t oppose that.  They asked me to have more respect when it came down to judging the “brave armed forces which have gained so much prestige worldwide for their struggle in liberating other countries.”

Whatever the case may be, it was not a dialogue of the deaf.  At one point, I suggested to Colonel Livan that, if he wished, he could write a reply and that I would be in charge of sending it to El Mundo so they could publish it.  This was after I pointed out that the website receives over 24 million views.

After his initial astonishment at the invitation, he told me that Cuban military institutions do not need to engage in a debate with a simple journalist over such a specific subject.

In the end they cited me with a “Warning,” where the officials wrote down their motives and I wrote mine.  They said goodbye and told me I could leave.  And I did so under an intermittant rain.

In sum, the Cuban special services wish to send a direct message to the dissidence and independent journalists.  There is a fine line that cannot be crossed.

The point is that they don’t even know which are the frontiers that cannot be trespassed.  Even though both officials were actually kind, soldiers always produce fear.  And don’t ask me why.

Ivan Garcia

Translated by Raul G.

August 10, 2010

Guillermo Fariñas: I believe the European Union should maintain its Common Position on Cuba / Iván García

Psychologist and independent journalist Guillermo Fariñas, who was on hunger strike for four months while he demanded freedom for 26 political prisoners, is of the opinion that a step has been taken in favor of the political pulse that sustains the Cuban opposition in the face of the Castro government.

But Farinas is not completely satisfied. “The common position which the EU holds should be kept. It is an instrument of pressure that has produced results, the 27 nations of the European bloc should not give in. They should push further. The EU cannot be satisfied with the release of 52 prisoners of conscience,” points out Farinas, as he is seated in a wheelchair in his small office located inside his home.

The champion of hunger strikes in Cuba is already home. Guillermo Fariñas resides in a poor neighborhood, mostly made up of blacks, known as La Chirusa, in the city of Santa Clara, 270 kilometers from Havana.

His last hunger strike was his 23rd. And in one way or another, it has been the only one that has proved successful. “I was the first one to be surprised, when high ranking officials from the Catholic Church in the island called the intensive care room of the hospital I was in. They informed me about the decision of the government to free 52 prisoners of the Black Spring of 2003. They doubled the number I was demanding,” notes Guillermo.

According to Fariñas, the release of the political prisoners is a gesture of good-will by General Raul Castro. But “Coco” (as he is known in Cuba) still wants more.

“I think that the dissidence and the incipient social Cuban civil society should come together in regards to concrete objectives and ideas to demand of the government. For me, it is a fundamental point from which we now must advance and abolish all the laws in effect that in one way or another allow the regime to jail people only for publicly sharing their opinions and thinking differently,” believes the free psychologist and journalist.

At the moment, the life of Fariñas is returning to normal. Under a very strict diet, he is already eating meats, viands, and fruits- all in puree form. He currently weighs 74 kilos, but a blood clot situated very close to his heart’s arteries continues to worry the doctors.

“The attention given to me by the doctors during my stay in the hospital was more than professional. Despite the political and ideological differences, a familiarity was created that went beyond patient-doctor care. They actually respected me. In fact, when they released me from the hospital, they actually had a little good-bye party — without alcohol, of course,” jokes Farinas.

The recuperation process may take up to four months. Fariñas feels anxious. The doctors suggested that he should not go on lengthy trips. He is thinking of writing a few books. And also wishes to continue working for his press agency, Cubanacan Press.

One of his desires is to eat fried chicken drowned in potatoes. “I still can’t eat anything that is fried,” and he adds that he “appreciates the support of people from anywhere in the world that have joined him in solidarity. I also understand those who do not support hunger strikes as methods of pressure,” points out “Coco”.

Fariñas is not wholly complacent with the gesture of the Spanish Foreign Minister, Miguel Angel Moratinos. “I think that a more informed and more detailed judicial assessment should have been given to the families of the prisoners sent to Spain. Everything was rushed, and important and necessary details were classified as less crucial. Some of my brothers in the cause who are now in Spain are disappointed with their treatment. In the long run, things will return to normal. Let us be confident,” says Fariñas.

Alicia, his 74-year-old mother, along with a relative, help him get up from his wheelchair so that he can go eat. Before I leave I ask him: Guillermo, would it be safe to say that this has been your last hunger strike?

“No. If individual rights are still being violated, then the possibility of another hunger strike will be present. That is my weapon. And I shoot with that weapon.”

Ivan Garcia

Photo: EPA

Translated by Raul G.

August 8, 2010

Official Citation / Iván García

On the morning of August 7th I found out that I was of interest to State Security. My neighbors in the area worriedly told me about two guys who looked like political police agents who were asking about me.

In Cuba, when the Special Services officially cite you, it is almost always with the purpose of sending a message of fear. A programmed relentless pursuit is set in motion to discourage people from continuing the work they have been doing, whether it be as a dissident or journalist.

Generally speaking, when someone is involved with these struggles they try to turn them into a rat. If they see that you continue standing firm with your ideas, then the task becomes trying to destabilize your beliefs through the use of tricks.

They might pressure your family, or shamelessly harass them. To be under the magnifying glass of Cuban Counter-Intelligence is a clear sign that the work that you carry out worries them.

I am a man who writes. I record stories of the decadent society in which I live, and I write about my perception of the situation in Cuba. I have a blog, titled Desde La Habana (‘From Havana’), where I spit out what I am thinking.

I also write for the online journal known as El Mundo America, a Spanish site that has over 24 million readers. That is something that really bothers those Cuban Security hard-liners.

Being a journalist in a closed society is the task of either an adventurer or a lunatic. In Cuba, there is a law, known as the “Gag Law”, which allows the government to jail you for up to 20 years for the sole reason of writing what you think.

I’m not a special guy. I’m not a hero. Nor a martyr. I have fears and phobias. Fifteen years of writing as an independent journalist has made me a lone wolf. A paranoiac sniper of people who surround me.

I don’t trust anyone. So much sickening distrust eventually wears me out. It is product of the patient labor of intrigue and hate carried out by the political police on the island so that you will never feel sure of yourself.

Being a dissident or a journalist without a boss puts you in a perennial state of siege. It stresses you out. Mentally and physically. You constantly try to guard what you love the most: your family. For you know that they might, and will, attack you through them.

I will be 45 on August 15th. At this point in my life, I am sure of what I want. I do not believe that an official citation (which demands that I present myself before a military counter-intelligence unit on August 9th at 9 AM, before Colonel Enrique) will change my personal decision of writing my thoughts about life in Cuba.

I don’t keep any secrets. I have not committed any crimes. In the meantime, I will continue informing. I am a prisoner of my labor.

Iván García

August 8, 2010

The Power of a Symbol

Fidel Castro could convert his name into a registered brand like Adidas, Nike, or Coca-Cola. After death, perhaps his image will have more appeal than the Argentinian soldier Che Guevara. The anti-globalization advocates will repeat his phrases with his image tattooed on their biceps, while they launch criticisms towards some capitalist bank.

Specialists in advertising and marketing are already rubbing their hands together just thinking up all of this. They calculate how many millions of books, shirts, posters, watches, and other pieces of merchandise they could sell with the image of the bearded face.

Castro is for Cuba what Mao was for China, or what Kim II Sung was in North Korea. Not even Robespierre and Danton, key figures of the French uprising in 1789, could overcome the mythical and fascinating depiction that the Cuban revolutionary will reach when he dies.

Forget about Lenin or Rosa Luxemburg. The One and Only Commander will go down in history for being the leader of a skirmish army in the mountains in the Eastern part of the island.

Born on August 13, 1926 in the village of Biran, current province of Holguin, he was a professional lawyer. Fidel Alejandro Castro Ruz will become a legend. Whether we like it or not. For the simple reason that we humans have the tendency of wanting to point out people who are different.

They will ignore the coarse errors he committed as a statesman. As time passes, few will remember that in October of 1962, he wrote a letter to Nikita Khrushchev in which he told the politician to fire a nuclear missile towards the United States.

Perhaps collective memory will forget about the names of all the thousands of people who were executed by firing squad at the beginning of the revolution. Or maybe they will leave out the part about the more than 20 thousand political prisoners that have existed during 50 years of government. Or his failures in the area of economics.

The grandchildren of the political prisoners of the Black Spring of 2003, wherever it is they reside, Miami, Madrid, Malaga, or Havana, will let their beards grow after many years have passed and they will read his extensive and apocalyptic discourses.

Life is a handful of contradictions. That same old man who, on a hot July morning in 2010, warned us that the nuclear war between the US and Iran was just a few hours away, while writing ridiculous comments, will become a registered brand after he is deceased.

Perhaps a good psychologist could explain the reasons why we humans end up glorifying people who, in life, had a high dose of evil in them.

For some, their idols are Gods. For others, warriors like Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, or Napoleon. Or soldiers from small, less developed countries that challenged the big empires. There are those who prefer frivolous fetishes. Movie stars, musicians, athletes.

The human being needs heroes and mascots as if they were emotional gasoline. Certain dictators were forgotten after their death. I don’t know why I have the feeling that Fidel Castro will not be one of those. I hope I am wrong.

Ivan Garcia

Translated by Raul G.

August 5 2010

Summer Vacations, Always Looking to the Sea / Iván García

Gerardo, a 52-year-old economist, does not think himself as either a bore or a zombie. However, his wife thinks he is a first-class lunatic. “He has spent his vacation months with a pair of binoculars looking out to Havana bay while taking note of all the ships that enter through this area on his notebook,” his wife says in a very calm voice.

The economist has his reasons for spending his summer vacations this way. “People can’t imagine how difficult our economic situation is. Fidel with his head stuck on the war in Iran keeps the news about the released prisoners behind the scenes, he forms a smoke screen, more oxygen for the regime. The reality is that the country is nearly in ruins, an example of this is the lack of merchant ships that enter the island. Between June 22 and July 22 I have only counted one,” the economist underlines in his notebook.

Of course, this is an unorthodox way of spending his vacation. Near the green building in which he lives, right in the center of the Havana malecon (seawall), dozens of kids, mostly black or mulatto, bathe in the blue and still waters without any shoes and behind their parents backs.

Despite the fact that the authorities prohibit people from bathing in the waters of the malecon, kids and adults do not pay attention to such a law. Adrian, 13 years of age, spends all day in the water. His parents have no money to take him to the beach or to a recreational center.

“It’s always the same, I spend my vacations swimming along the malecon and playing baseball on the street”, the kid says. Besides bathing in the sea, he also asks for money and gum from tourists.

Many kids play in dangerous areas of Havana without any parental care. In the old part of the city, a group of kids pass the time by swimming in the contaminated waters of an abandoned (due to threat of collapse) building’s tank.

People here seem to not care about the risks they are taking. Near to this scene, a police guard with a black hat and a German Shepard seems oblivious to any dangers that may threaten the youths.

During these vacations the ones who are most bored are young people. Not all, though. Some parents who are able to obtain hard currency can provide other sorts of entertainment for their kids. Rogelio, a 42-year-old gastronomist, takes his kids to theme parks or pools of hotels on the weekends.

“This is very expensive. To go in to a hotel’s pool it costs 5 pesos and 10 convertible pesos (7 & 12 dollars). Theme parks are just a little bit less expensive, yet, during these vacations my wife and I have already spent more than 160 convertible pesos (200 dollars)”, Rogelio explains.

Summer months are a headache for many families with kids. They have to make lunch and snacks. And if something is scarce in Cuba, it is food, which equals the price of gold.

It is normal to just give them powdered kool-aid-type drinks and a tortilla sandwich with mayonnaise for lunch, while they watch children’s shows on tv. It’s the cheapest activity. However, a nutritionist states that the powdered drinks prove to be harmful for the health of young ones due to its high amount of carcinogenic sodium.

Nearly always illegally, some bus drivers from state companies rent out their cars to groups of people who wish to travel to the beaches East of Havana on the weekends for 30 pesos (a little more than a dollar) per capita. They leave at 8 in the morning and come back at 5 in the afternoon.

For the parents with fewer resources there are other options. There are also buses for 10 convertible pesos per traveler to go to Varadero or to some tourist center in nearby provinces.

Those who have higher incomes, or hold government positions, have the luxury of being able to spend a few summer days in a 5 star hotel. But those are rare.

The majority of Cuban families spend their vacations in front of their tv screens. Or they go out to the movies, the beach, or the theatre. Perhaps one day or another they drink from a rum bottle or from cold beer cans, while they chop off slices of smoked pork.

People are fixated on the idea of enjoying their vacation in the best possible way. They spend their mornings fishing along the malecon, or like Adrian, throwing themselves head first from the seawall towards the deep coastal waters.

We can say that Gerardo holds the most boring title in all of the city. To be seated on a chair for one straight month, looking out for ships with binoculars, seems like something someone who is nuts would do. Despite whatever their reason is for doing it.

Ivan Garcia

Photo: surfcrest, Flickr

Translated by Raul G.

August 2, 2010

Cell Phones in Cuba, on the Crest of the Wave / Iván García

Anabel, 23, unemployed, with the roof of her house full of holes through which water pours on days of heavy rain, eats hot food once a day, and ‘the future’ is a bad word.

She is short of many things. But she has a brand new phone. Cell phones are fashionable on the island. Especially among young people. Take note: The country recently surpassed one million active cell phone users.

There are even more cell phones in Cuba than fixed phones. The official newspaper Juventud Rebelde announced the news. According to Max La Fuente, vice president of mobile services, there are currently 1,007,000 cellphone users, while fixed phone customers have reached 1,004,000.

However, the manager said that 67% of call traffic comes from the landlines.

Of course, it’s much cheaper to talk on a landline. On average, people who have landlines in their households pay between 30 and 50 pesos (not more than $2.50) per month.

A cell phone is a luxury in Cuba. It is true that costs have come down. Prior to 2008, to own a mobile phone bordered on illegality and people only had them thanks to a relative or friend abroad.

So Cubans had no right to own a mobile phone line. When allowed, in March 2008, prices were exorbitant. A phone line cost 120 convertible pesos ($140).

The per minute cost was 0.60 cents in convertible pesos. However, the queues at the business offices of ETECSA, the only telecommunications company in Cuba, were gigantic.

Right now, the costs have fallen by 70%. Mobile lines cost 40 convertible pesos ($50) and there are numerous offers for 20 convertible pesos.

Calls cost 0.45 cents per minute and after 11 pm the price drops to 0.10 cents. Calls are still charged on receipt of the call and the services offered through mobile telephony are far from the quality and variety of their counterparts in Third World countries.

To have an iPhone or a Black Berry is more ostentation than anything else: half of the services that are touted by their manufacturers do not work on the island. Mobile phone users still cannot connect to the internet or to GPS. Nor access Google.

ETECSA executives have hinted that this could happen in the near future. What is announced for the second half of 2010 is the availability of prepaid cards for 5 convertible pesos and the gradual reduction of call costs, according to the available technology.

Two years after the Castro II regime allowed any Cuban to have a mobile if so desired, the cell is on the crest of the wave.

They are least used to make calls. Young people use them as MP3 players and send videos and photos via Bluetooth. Those most hungry for information use a clandestine service based in Madrid that sends free news updates about the worlds of sports, politics and entertainment.

Opponents, independent journalists and bloggers get information through the mobile phone chip. Most of the news, such as the release of 52 political prisoners or a momentous event, is spread by SMS at unheard of speeds.

And there are not a few who access social networks like Twitter or Facebook through their mobile. Although most people on the island, like Anabel, use the mobile more as a garment than as a necessity.

She always carries her modern phone stuck to her tight skirt with her headphones on, listening to hip-hop. Occasionally she sends messages. The call cost is still prohibitive for her. And though the house is in ruins, there is little food and not much money, young people like Anabel feel that the mobile is a new toy.

Iván García

Translated by: CIMF

August 3 2010

The Castros, Each One on His Own Side

Those who  expected some clues about the needed economic and political reforms  that the island is crying out for were left disappointed. General Raul Castro sent them a message: you will have to wait.

Castro  II did not even speak at a ceremony held in the province of Villa Clara, 180 miles  from Havana, to mark the 57th anniversary of the assault on a military  barracks in eastern Cuba.

He delegated  the speech to Vice Minister Jose Ramon Machado Ventura, one of the  many elderly men who occupy significant positions in the administration of the country. He said almost nothing.

More of the same. A boring recitation of successes, slogans, clichés, the occasional anti-imperialist  bravado, and a  spirited defense of Venezuela in the ongoing affair with  neighboring Colombia over the issue of the alleged involvement of  Caracas in supporting the FARC.

In one brief line, the vice president said that Cuba would not follow the advice of  the international media, and that changes would be made at the pace and at the time that they decide.

The General saved his speech, short as always, for the close of a Cuba-Venezuela ministerial summit. He  made no reference to topics of interest to ordinary Cubans, who have  many unanswered questions about the economic crisis that has existed in the country for  21 years.

Fidel did not want to be left behind. This July he became a media star. After four years in bed, the Commander in Chief is doing piece work.

He has returned changed into a guru – prophesying nuclear wars and environmental disasters, and reading news dispatches. If anything has changed about the angry Fidel, it is his tone. Now he is moderate and measured. He seems like a political advisor. But he is not.

On  July 26, at a meeting he held with a group of American Protestants, intellectuals, and Cuban journalists, the old fox Castro  sent a message back and forth.

It seemed like another one of his speculations. But it wasn’t. Before finishing his far-fetched theories about the future of the planet, he let drop  the news that perhaps before the end of the year, the five spies  imprisoned in the U.S. since 1998 could return home.

In Cuba, information must be read between the lines. The government is a specialist in speaking about important issues cryptically or remaining silent.

But if Castro I delivered his message it is because something is cooking behind the scenes. It is almost certain that the operation to free 52 political prisoners is an exchange: 52 in return for 5. Remember that Cardinal Jaime Ortega traveled to Washington.

But  the real message from Castro is to put fear in the gut of the leaders and influential intellectuals in the country who are trying to create a window with the  West on their own.

In such closed societies, fear and suspicion is a constant rule. You can see with your own eyes a Castro who overcame death is always an arm of pressure.

Clearly, each Castro brother goes his own way. It might be a concerted tactic. Or a sign of differences between them. The truth is that Fidel is back. And many will have to retrieve candles.

Iván García

ETESCA Down on its Luck

One day before collecting their bonus in convertible pesos, known as CUCs, which the Cuban government usually pays to certain institutions, close to sixteen thousand employees from ETECSA, the only telecommunications company on the island, got their second piece of bad news for the month of July.

In the previous days, the company had already started discreetly “downsizing.” This is a nice way of saying they started firing the first few hundred employees so that, according to the company’s executives, “it becomes more efficient and streamlined.”

This new unemployment shock – euphemistically known in Cuba as “relocation” – is part of the plan for strengthening the economy drawn up by General Raúl Castro, the country’s president, who in April during a speech to the Congress of Young Communists, said it would affect more than a million workers.

The unemployment phenomenon, which is vehemently denied by high officials in the government, is nothing new. In 2002, the last year for which there is data, unemployment was 3.3%, but independent economists say the real rate was much higher and is currently over 25% of the Cuban workforce.

Years ago, the government used to pay 60% of their last salary in Cuban pesos to the unemployed during the first 3 months, and offer them training courses. Now, according to the recently downsized employees from ETECSA, they’ll be paid 60% of their former salary just for one month, and then they’ll be on their own.

Besides “downsizing,” the other piece of bad news arrived the day before they collected their CUC bonus, when a memorandum notified them that due to a coordination failure, starting in April, the needed amount of convertible money had not been assigned to ETECSA by the responsible government institutions.

Until July the company had been able to make payments drawing from its reserves of hard currency. But in July there was nothing left. Many employees are angry. On the island, the convertible peso is essential when it comes to buying the basics, such as food, cooking oil, and clothes.

Alejandro, 32, tells how discussions between the workers and their bosses have turned into arguments. “Insults, openly criticizing the government, and calls to stop work until we are paid in hard currency.”

A white collar ETECSA worker earns between 400 and 800 Cubans pesos plus 27.50 in hard currency. Adding it all up it’s less than 60 USD per month. Until the year 2009, the company was a joint venture between the State and an Italian partner.

The Italian partner paid all salaries to a government institution, in hard currency. “For instance, for an engineer the government received up to 2 thousand euros from its foreign partner, and then the state paid 50 the equivalent of fifty CUCs in a combination of hard currency and Cuban pesos. If that is not exploitation, I don’t know what is.”, says Diana.

But it might not be as bad as all that. Company executives have taken notice. According to office rumors they expect there to be a meeting in August where the government would give them the hard currency.

Together with the Tourism Ministry and the Institute for Civil Aviation, ETECSA forms the small group of Cuban institutions which make a profit. This is the reason many employees can’t understand the lack of money to pay their July salaries. The don’t know if they’ll ever be paid either.

Ivan García

Picture: ETECSA main office, in Aguila y Dragones, La Habana. Built in 1927, this building housed the Cuban Telephone Company.

Translated by: Xavier Noguer

While Waiting for Raúl Castro's Speech . . .


San Rafael Boulevard was swarming with pedestrians on Wednesday, July 7. Braving insufferable heat and humidity, an old newspaper vendor, his face unshaven, his clothes patched, loudly announced the news of the moment.

“Learn about the release of the political prisoners,” the old man shouted, while a line of fifteen or sixteen people bought the official newspapers Granma and Juventud Rebelde.

“That day I set a personal sales record.  I sold 340 newspapers; usually I don’t sell more than 80,” recalled the sidewalk news hawker. Two weeks later, news of the release of the dissidents is still being discussed.

Although the official media reported only a brief note, the ordinary people in those places of regular dialogue between Cubans – neighborhood corners, parks, workplaces, and taxicabs – continue to make comments, guesses and predictions about what might happen after the release of the political prisoners.

The best informed are those who pay 10 convertible pesos for an illegal cable antenna. And as is the norm in Cuba, they then activate “Radio Bemba,” a peculiar way of transmitting news by word of mouth, which usually functions best in closed societies.

In an antiquated jeep with eight seats, converted into a private taxi, a young man who identifies himself as Alberto, confesses to being connected to the cable channels. “Yes, I am informed,” he says, and starts telling about the freed dissidents. The passengers listen attentively. Alberto relates how the 11 political opponents who had arrived in Madrid spent their first few hours of freedom.

“They were going to be spread throughout different cities in Spain, some in Valencia, others in Málaga. One of them, named Normando, is not satisfied with the treatment received from the Spanish authorities, and believes that they are being treated like African immigrants. These Spaniards are for shit. When they emigrated to Cuba at the beginning of the last century, here we treated them like royalty,” said Alberto, unleashing a wave of opinions.

A middle-aged woman thinks that the dissidents went wrong. “I am a state official and I have traveled the world. The life of emigrants is difficult in any country. They’ll have to work hard if they are to thrive, because Spain also is in deep economic crisis. If they were such patriots they should have stayed in their country.”

Some respond in raised voices. Passions run high. On the island, these freed dissidents were completely unknown. The average Cuban, who has only coffee for breakfast and a hot meal once a day, often admires the Damas de Blanco and the value of the dissidents. “They say out loud what we don’t have the courage to say,” says one student.

But so much bad propaganda by the regime has had an impact in a certain sector of the population, which sees dissenters as part of the street-wise who have turned their differences with the regime into a cottage industry.

In a quick survey of 29 people – family members, friends, and neighbors, of both sexes, aged between 19 and 67, and different political affiliations – 26 welcome the release of the political prisoners from incarceration.

“It’s a positive sign, it could be the beginning of a new stage, where finally disagreements are decriminalized,” argues Robert, an engineer.

The news of the releases have had an unexpected competition, with the repeated appearance of Fidel Castro in public life. Since July 31, 2006, when he made his exit and was about to die, Castro I had been forgotten.

Few people read his routine “Reflections” in the press, where he addressed international political issues, and avoided the difficult economic, political, and social situation in the country.

Cubans have followed his appearances carefully. “He keeps on talking nonsense and prophesying misfortune, but he looks good physically,” says Armando, a cook.

His supporters are where he left them. “With the appearance of the Comandante things will get back to normal. The people follow him more than Raúl. Internationally, Fidel is a meaningful spokesman. With him we’ll put the crisis behind us and take a leap forward,” exults Luis, a retired military veteran.

On the street some doubt his mental capacities. “Yes, he looks in good health, but we don’t give a damn about the war in Iran. I think the old man has lost his marbles,” said César, who is unemployed.

In the middle of African heat, summer vacations, and the typical lack of material, either one of these news stories – the release of the political prisoners or the reappearance of the Comandante – would have aroused interest by itself.

Now, most expect that on July 26 in Santa Clara, in commemoration of the assault on a military barracks in Santiago de Cuba in 1953, General Raul Castro will launch a series of measures anticipated by the public, including repeal of permits to travel abroad, the possibility of buying cars and houses, and expanded self-employment.

Things do not look good in the lives of Cubans. To clean up the inefficient local economy, hundreds of thousands of workers have begun to be fired. Raul Castro could be the messenger of good tidings. Or bad.

Iván García

Translated by: Tomás A.

Fidel Castro Counterattacks

The bearded Castro is a loose cannon. He always has been. His behavior is unpredictable. Foreseeing his next move on the political chessboard is unimaginable even for people with the abilities of Nostradamus.

But something on the Cuban scene smells like it’s burning. There is a sort of forced cohabitation. Two-headed power. His brother, General Raul Castro, governs, but Fidel does everything possible to distract his management.

Castro I resists retirement. The only word is “Comrade Fidel.” In fact and law he remains the Only Commander. The glorious old man with delusions of being father of his country. The guy who sees more than anyone else. The world-class statesman.

A Caribbean soothsayer who equally predicts the path of a hurricane, the decline of U.S. imperialism, or his proverbial ability to foretell slaughters.

Now his laser points to a nuclear war between Iran and the Western nations. He is watching for it. Castro is a textbook narcissist. His gloomy reflections on the Middle East conflict interests no one in Cuba.

Ordinary people are focused on other things. On their own struggle. Trying to get two decent meals a day. And getting money however they can to buy clothes and shoes for their children and to repair their house.

Castro reappeared just at the moment everyone had forgotten him. For the first time since 2006 he hit the streets. The strategy was to overshadow the real news: the release of 52 political prisoners. He returned to fray at the same time that news was announced.

Then, when seven prisoners of conscience were flying towards Madrid, the old guerrilla came to the fore in a television interview, chatting and predicting misfortune in his new role of necromancer.

In local circles the emergence of Castro I is being called a desperate gesture of leadership. And it is evidence of tensions and disagreements with his brother Raul.

The signs are not new. The rebellious and unrestrained language of Fidel has placed the government of Castro II in more of a problem. He is like the senile grandfather that the family tries to give the best care, but at the first opportunity manages to put them through a public embarrassment with his incoherent behavior.

I have no doubt of the respect that Raul feels for the historical figure of Fidel. The General tries to manage the island in his image. But when he wants to disconnect from the policies of his predecessor, the ghost of Fidel appears.

Now the Single Commander counts for little in the real politics of Cuba. Or anything. His brother had the foresight to fire two dozen ministers, officials and secretaries of the party in different provinces. He replaced them with leaders who had his full confidence.

Unlike Fidel, Raul is known to have much lower political talent. But he is a team player and appreciates his unconditional friends. Fidel only had interests. He was above everything. Raúl bases his government on the spirit of clan.

There is a key point that causes friction between the two brothers. In essence, both have the mentality of a dictator and Olympic contempt for democracy and the rule of law.

The brothers born on a farm in Biran, Holguin, like and want power. The means that each of them use to keep it is what raises concern in Castro I.

Fidel is convinced that his younger brother is inept, that without his help he would never succeed in the arena of political subtleties. And Raul intends to show the contrary.

It is time to let him govern. For Fidel to rest in a clinic and be devoted to writing about the topics of his choice or a memoir. But the One is reluctant to go out of style.

He does not want the authoritarian power with which he ruled for 47 years (1959-2006) to go to waste. The old Castro no longer has the support of the armored divisions and the salute of the generals.

But he mastered the art of words and knew how to manipulate the media. It is an uncomfortable burden. Especially at this time, when the General savored his political triumph with the release of 52 political prisoners. A couple of things can result.

As has often happened, the younger brother bows his head and let’s his idol take the reins of power. The General has already adapted and apparently feels comfortable as second fiddle.

The other is that Raul Castro wants to leave a legacy to the country and a consolidated power in the future for his immediate circle. And these are the upstarts in local politics who really hate the unpredictable output of Fidel Castro.

Although they only say it quietly. For now.

Iván García

Photo: European Pressphoto Agency.

Who Benefits From the Release of the Cuban Political Prisoners?


The recent release by the Cuban government of the 52 detained prisoners in the spring of 2003 can be interpreted in several ways. We shall examine some possible strategies or possibilities. And in all of them, the one gaining the most is General Raul Castro’s regime.

Certain national and international analysts think that the release of the nonviolent opponents displaces the fragmented internal dissidence. Maybe they are right.

In any case, the national opposition is weak, with a political project unknown to the majority of the population on the island and it is infiltrated to its marrow by the intelligence services.

To make things easier for the Castro government, in the last decade certain opponents have been focused on strife, nepotism, excessive profanity and an immeasurable protagonist role.

Among so much quarrel, corruption of certain leaders, warlordism and messianic projects that do not correspond with the reality of the country, and serve only so that American agencies give them money, which evaporates into questionable conduct, one can reach the conclusion that the release of the 52 opponents did not score points, nor will it pave the way for a possible dialogue between the government and the dissidence.

The Cuban dissidence is not at its best. It’s a trivial opposition. It hurts to say it, but that’s the way I see it. Its aims and premises are the same that the majority of the Cuban population wish. But its working methods have devalued.

The clever ones who work with General Castro did their math. The death of the dissident Orlando Zapata and the constant walks of the brave Ladies in White, together with the hunger strike of Guillermo Farinas, warmed the track and instigated critics across half the world.

Something had to be done. And it was Raul Castro’s loyal generals who lead the country. All the enterprises which function and generate an income one way or another are controlled by the olive-green entrepreneurs.

The antiquated Russian tanks have been, for many years, falling apart in the underground shelters. Just like the outdated MiG fighters and the antiaircraft guns. In the absence of a war against the North, which will never happen, the Cuban nomenklatura dedicated itself to business.

They learned marketing, costs and benefits. So that they could improve their financial situation on the island, they received big commissions and abundant diets from capitalist entrepreneurs. When they look at themselves in the mirror, they notice how much better they look in tailor suits, rather than in their rough military uniforms.

To these generals, who like to say Sir rather than colleague, who prefer the good table, Spanish wines and Scottish whisky to the sugarcane rums, they are the ones who encouraged Castro II to launch a truce.

They made a deal with the Cuban Church and the Vatican. With Spain, and underneath the table, with some sectors of the Obama administration.

They are willing to dialogue with any actor inside or outside the country, except with local opposition, for the simple reason that our dissidence, between the harassment of State Security, its quarrelsome language and its inertia, has dug its own political tomb.

Another of the variants, calculated with care by those who govern the destinies of the country, is that the economy is sinking with no remedy in sight.

If people still think that their future is in Miami or Madrid, that working is not worth it because wages are a joke in bad taste, that their pantries and wallets are empty and that the displeasure of the ordinary citizen towards the regime constant increases, then the policy change is imposed in an accelerated way.

For a logical and forceful reason. If the depressed living standards of Cubans are not improved, they will lose power. And they bet on controlled changes. They look at Vietnam and China. While they take advantage of the oil that the impertinent Hugo Chávez offers at a rock bottom price.

Next, the jails had to be emptied. It is a first step. Also the language moderated. Insults will be saved for better occasion. The generals believe that they have the situation under control with respect to the opposition. They calculate that their leading role is strengthened if they can bring a glass of milk, food and meat other than pork to the family table.

A dissidence with more a broader playing field could be a fertile ground for new proposals, in tune with the realities of the people. Even if they have no space in the media or public participation.

The government will continue to watch them with its bulldog face. But there are interesting loopholes. If 52 peaceful dissidents are released, going forward there would be no rational argument to imprison anyone just for writing or wanting to organize a political party.

The ball is in the opposition’s court. They will have to even the score. Right now they are losing 1 to 0.