Category: Ivan Garcia

Double Dealing

The Cuban revolution ceased to exist in 1976. The death certificate was signed when they put into force a rigid constitution and institutionalized the country with a questionable political-administrative division.

Farewell to the romantic phase of improvisation and a charisma-laden Fidel Castro, who in his uniform, travelled through fields and towns. And with a small group of escorts lunched at any cheap Chinese restaurant. With an everlasting Vueltabajo cigar and rough-framed glasses, the bearded one ruled the island from an olive-green jeep made in Russia.

What came next was pure political marketing. Castro continued to administer the country as a landowner manages his farm. But the republic entered the era of the gray five-year plans. With a mammoth bureaucracy hindering, rather than helping, the performance of Cuba.

He wove a dense network of myths and hackneyed speeches. Except for the commander, who has always been above the institutions and laws, the island lost spontaneity, the alleged generosity and that humanism which had shamed European intellectuals.

With the death by decree of the Revolution, and an absurd and inefficient regime, the stampede of the former flatters of the Fidelista project began.

Castro no longer walked the streets of the old part of Havana nor breakfasted in second-rate cafes. Already, he was no longer a human being. He was thought of as a God. Surrounded by the largest entourage any leader up to then had ever had.

Fidel spoke of the exploitation of man by man and the paying of poverty wages to their workers. He condemned the predatory imperialist wars of the U.S. against Third World nations, but in 1978, during the civil war in Ethiopia and Somalia, he supported the dictator Mengistu Haile Mariam. Only because this was in line with Moscow, then the faithful ally.

He intervened in civil and tribal wars in Africa. In the name of the revolution and proletarian internationalism, he enrolled thousands of Cuban soldiers in numerous military adventures.

Wanting to be the flag of the world’s left, Fidel Castro and the leaders under his command were unconcerned with the economy. Following a rigid political and economic plan, exported from the former USSR, the island became one of the poorest nations in the Americas.

In theory, tropical socialism is generous, productive and humane. But in practice, it does not work. World revolution is a joke in bad taste for ordinary Cubans who daily breakfast with coffee without milk.

Cuba today is a virtual game. The reality is spoiled with so much demagoguery. People live badly and want to live well. They have an empty fridge and want it full. In the wardrobe are old clothes and shoes, and at night the heat does not let them sleep.

The Cubans of the third millennium aspire to have air-conditioning, cable television, the ability to buy computers, connect to the Internet 24 hours a day or travel abroad without needing permission to leave. The regime does not want, or know how, to ensure that people have a decent life.

Gen. Raul Castro, the current president, has been given a real hot potato. A bankrupt country, thousands of Cubans unhappy with the status quo, and a luggage cart of slogans and mottos that have become worn-out clichés.

To change the state of things you must tear down the building. Leave it in ruins. Castro II is trying. He has sat down to negotiate with the Catholic Church. And he has opened the floodgate a little, trying to deport the majority of the dissidents who were incarcerated in 2003.

Cuba is pure mirage. Many of the native petty bureaucrats demand sacrifice and saving, but drink Diet Coke in their air-conditioned homes. The only thing that is different is that the Cuban system was not implemented by Russian tanks.

After Fidel Castro aligned himself with the communist ideology, the island started to march backwards.

The cry of the current Cuban leadership is about the “evil” U.S. and European Union. While talking about the longed-for world-wide leftist insurgency, they try to do business with Western businessmen and send to Tokyo, New York, London or Madrid to buy the latest thing in electronics.

The Cuban Revolution died in 1976. In 2010, it still maintains photos of Fidel Castro and Karl Marx in official dispatches. But secretly, they read the advice of gurus like Alan Greenspan or George Soros. In Cuba, one lives by double-dealing.

Ivan Garcia

Translated by: CIMF

The Castros’ Chess Game

After sorting through various possibilities, the Spanish journalist Lali Kazas and I agreed to rent a car and head to Ciego de Avila.

It’s the day they’ve announced the releases and extraditions to Spain of five political prisoners of conscience, among them is Pablo Pacheco, who used to call me from the prison to talk about baseball and football, among other things.

We got to the town on April 9, and went to the home of Oleyvis Garcia.  A few minutes later, without even wiping off the dust from the road, we knocked on the door.  A soldier in olive drab introduced himself and addresses Lali and me by name.

It was Colonel Mesa, from the Department of State Security.  When I call my mother to tell her this, she says to me, “Ivan, Mesa is the one who dealt with me in Villa Marista, the day after you were arrested on March 8, 1991.  He was a captain then, thin and not very tall.”

“I don’t remember.  The one I remember is Chaple, the one who was in the little room they sent me to the two times you visited me.”

“Mesa was in charge of your case and perhaps you didn’t speak with him.  How did he treat you and Lali?”

“He was very friendly.  He wanted to know how we knew about Pacheco’s release and we told him that we heard it on the radio.  Before he left, he gave us a telephone number to reach him in case a problem arose.”

And a problem did arise not long after the colonel left.  Oleyvis needed to go to the Western Union office to get money sent from the United States by Pacheco’s family.  The office closed at 4pm, so we drove her there.  But despite it not being 4 yet, it was closed. We checked and were told that the employee had not gone in to work that day.

We called Colonel Mesa and in a few minutes, the issue was resolved.  We don’t know where they found someone, but they opened up Western Union and paid Oleyvis the money, that very same night she had to travel to Havana with her son.  On Monday, July 12, when they’re already in the air, is the day that they will finally be with Pacheco.

My mother interrupts me.  She wanted to know if I was able to get any more information from the colonel concerning this odd process of prisoner releases, decided on by the hierarchy of the Catholic church, the Ministry of the Interior, and the Cuban government.

“Yes”, I told her, “But he told me that he didn’t know; that he just follows orders and the one that is responsible for them is General Raul Castro.”

At 6 in the morning on Sunday, I was awoken by my cell phone’s ring.  It was Pablo Pacheco, who had called me to say that he was with a military unit on the outskirts of Havana.  He was with other political prisoners who were being given medical checks and they were giving them first-rate care.  “The food is excellent; they’ve even given us beef.  We slept two to a room with air conditioning,” he told me.

I went back to sleep.  Four hours later, my cell phone went off again.  It was Oleyvis, Pacheco’s wife.  At that moment, both she and Jimmy, their son, along with other relatives, were being given a medical examination in a clinic of the Ministry of the Interior, on G and 19th Street, in the neighborhood of Vedado.

“We’re all being booked in the Instituto Superior Capitan San Luis, belonging to MININT (Ministry of the Interior), in Valle Grande, on the outskirts of the city.  We are being well fed and well treated, but we haven’t been able to see our husbands.  I think that before going to the airport, we are going to be greeted by Cardinal Ortega; I’m not sure if only the relatives or also the political prisoners”.

While he was still in Canaleta prison, Pacheco dreamed he was back home with his wife and son, watching the final match of the World Cup.  The three could watch it together and jump in celebration of Spain’s victory.

On the other hand, while not from there, it is in Havana that the Castros have begun their game of chess; with all of the pieces well controlled and well-played, among them the dissidents.  This is so nobody would even dare to take their king, and they will be the ones to declare checkmate.

Ivan Garcia

Translated by: Andrew Cuan

Every Night I Prayed to the Lord

The doctor Oleyvis García, 38, is convinced that God heard her repeated prayers. “Every night I prayed to the Lord, asking him to free my husband, said García, wearing faded light-blue shorts and a shirt in the colors of the Spanish football team.

Oleyvis lives in a dusty half-paved village street. Her home is over a doctor’s office. Nothing fancy. Cheap wood furniture in a narrow room painted a dull white color.

Until March 19, 2003, her husband, Pablo Pacheco Avila, 40, a freelance journalist, also lived there. That day, eleven police patrol cars and half a dozen cars from the State Security raided their house and arrested Pacheco.

Until today’s sun. Pablo Pacheco spent 7 years and 4 months behind bars. His crime, writing without permission what he thought should be the future for Cuba. Today all that is ancient history.

International pressure, the death of Orlando Zapata, the marches of the Ladies in White, the hunger strike of Guillermo Fariñas, and mediation by the Spanish Foreign Minister Miguel Ángel Moratinos, the Cuban Catholic Church and the good will of the General Raul Castro’s government, have allowed the 52 prisoners of the Black Spring to be freed.

Pablo Pacheco will be one of the first. On a blazingly sunny afternoon with no water on his cellblock to wash himself, the penal authorities called him into a small room. He had a phone call.

On the other end of the line, with his voice neutral and cordial, was Cardinal Jaime Ortega. In a few minutes, the Cardinal told him that if he wished, he could leave for Spain. Without conditions and with his family.

According to Pacheco, the highest representative of the church on the island, made it very clear that in any case he could return to his country when he wished. Pacheco agreed to leave his country.

Above all, he was thinking of the future of his son Jimmy who is 12. It was his son who suffered most from his unjust imprisonment. Oleyvis, his mother, always meant to hide the truth from him.

“I told him his father was studying, or traveling, that he would be back home soon,” Oleyvis related. The lie had short legs. The boy sense that something wasn’t right.

Every three months he carried, with his mother, a huge burlap bag with over 20 pounds of provisions, on a journey of over 200 miles to the Agüica prison in Matanzas province, where Pacheco was first held.

One morning, looking at him with his café con leche colored eyes, Jimmy asked his father, “Papá, why are you always surrounded by men dressed in olive green?”

He was seven. Pacheco knew he couldn’t lie to him, “Jimmy, your father is in prison for wanting a better future for all Cubans. My son, prison is not a dishonor when a person is in prison for a just motive,” Pablo told him, while giving him examples of famous patriots who had been in prison, like José Martí.

“That’s true, Papá, I’m proud of you,” he answered in a strong voice. Jimmy grew up without his father’s advice. He wanted to tell him that the girl in the last desk in the classroom stuck up for him. How much he missed not being able to go to the beach with him. Play baseball and football, his favorite sports. Climb a mango tree together, or hunt quail.

During these seven long years Oleyvis was both mother and father. In Cuba the family also suffers from the imprisonment of their loved ones. The long journeys to the prison, the lack of money, the loneliness and constant tension about their future, have prematurely aged Dr. García.

On the left side of her bed there has been an empty space for a long time. With wet eyes, Oleyvis thinks that Madrid will be a good place to rebuild their marriage and family life.

Before we leave, she asks us not to forget to thank, in her name, all the people who made the release of her husband possible. The friends and neighbors who always supported and encouraged her. And God, who heard her prayers.

Iván García y Lali Kazás

Meeting Once Again Postponed

It was pouring on the morning of February 23, 2003.  The independent journalist Pablo Pacheco and I had arranged a meeting at the Central Park in Havana.

Pacheco, a resident of Ciego de Avila province, nearly 500 kilometers from the capital, was passing by the city.  We would talk a lot by phone about our families and about politics, but mostly about sports, for we would write about it in our respective alternative press agencies.  The heavy rain did not allow us to meet up.

When he called me in the first days of March 2003, I told him, “During your next visit to Havana we’ll meet each other.”  It didn’t happen.  On the morning of Wednesday, March 19, Pablo Pacheco was detained by the political police, put on trial, and condemned to 20 years of prison.

He was one of the 75 prisoners of conscience of the Black Spring.  The world already knows about the absurd jurisdiction of those cases.  They were peaceful men whose only weapons were their pens and their words.  And as time passed, they became precious coins of trade for the Castro government.

On the afternoon of Saturday, February 21, 2009, nearly 6 years later, my phone rang while I was writing a post about the next baseball series for my blog, Desde la Habana (From Havana).  Surprise.  It was Pablo Pacheco calling from the prison of Canaleta in Ciego de Avila.

He was in good spirits, as if six long years had not passed, especially for Pacheco, who nightly slept behind bars.  He told me about his wife, he read me some poems, most were about his son, and also read me something he wrote about Cuban civil society.

He even had time to read me something about the baseball series, which he wrote in the boring and slow hours of his life in prison.  And I thought that no newspaper or website in the world would publish his stories or poems.  Just like most other prisoners, they write for themselves.  If anything, they write for their families or companions in struggle, also.

When I hung up, the tears came up to my eyes.  The last time I had cried was on November 25, 2003 when my mother, my sister, and my niece, all left for a hard exile in Switzerland.  I cried at the time because I thought that it was possible that I would never again see my mother alive, for she was 61-years-old when she left Cuba.  It was a trip with no return.

Now, I cried because a 40-year-old man could not see his only son grow up, all thanks to an intolerant government.  And also for the ill fortune when the rain impeded me from personally getting to meet my friend, Pablo Pacheco, on that 23rd of February 2003.

One year and five months later, on July 7, 2010, I received the great news that Pablo Pacheco was going to be released.  He would travel to Madrid together with his wife and son.  “I will finally be able to personally meet him,” I thought.  I prepared my bookbag and went off towards Ciego de Avila.

But bad luck followed me.  The trip was in vain.  The authorities of Havana are going to put Pablo Pacheco aboard the plane without being able to say goodbye to anyone.  It’s probable that I won’t even be able to hug him.  The appointment continues to be postponed.

Ivan Garcia

Photo:  Since I couldn’t photograph myself with Pacheco, I decided to take pictures of the books which he will take with him to Spain.

Translated by Raul G.

Time Stopped

It’s as if all the clocks had been stopped.  In unison, the same day at the same time. The unease is widespread around the Cuban political prisoners and their families.

Despite the official announcement that 52 opponents of the Group of 75 will be released, they still don’t know  exactly when those releases will occur. Much less who are the candidates to leave the country immediately and who in the coming months. And if it’s true that they will exchange their cells for exile.

Arnaldo Ramos, 68, sleeps little and badly. And he always has the same dreams: that his wife Lidia is preparing his favorite dish, while running her fingers through the long hair of their granddaughter Roxana.

Right now, all the prisoners of the Black Spring of 2003 are a bundle of nerves. A group of men who never should have been imprisoned.

I seem to see the doctor Oscar Elias Biscet, praying before bed, with the Bible at the head of his bunk in the Combinado del Este prison.

Or the reporter Ricardo Gonzalez Alfonso, full of aches, thinking about David and Daniel, his sons who aren’t little boys any more and after seven long hears he will see them as teenagers.

Either way, there are hopes. At this moment I can’t forget Reina Luisa, Orland Zapata’s mother. The hunger strike that cost the life of her son forced the government to reconsider its rigid postures.

In the solitude of their small and poor dwelling in Banes, Holguin, Reina knows that Orlando will not knock in the door carrying his duffel bag, like the rest of those released. She will not be able to hug hum, nor sit down and talk with him.

I also think of all the men and women of Cuba and in the world who in a loud voice, without fear, have called for democratic changes on the island.

In Madrid, a friend listens to the boleros of the singer Olga Guillot and drinks strong coffee, typing with two-fingers his chronicles for the newspaper El Mundo. Morón, his hometown, he keeps under his pillow.

This gesture, the result of three-party negotiations, could be a first step. Pablo Pacheco would like to watch Sunday’s final between Spain and Holland sitting next to his son. And I want to hug my niece, Yania, who left Cuba when she was 9 and just turned 16.

In this battles there are no winners. We have all lost something. And we all want change.

Iván García

Photo: Reina Luisa Tamayo is consoled by a Lady in White, shortly after the death of her son, Orlando Zapata Tamayo.

The "Castro List"

These have been remarkable days. From the time it was known that the Spanish Foreign Minister Miguel Ángel Moratinos had on his agenda the topic of releasing a significant number of political prisoners, people started to sit up and take notice.

Never before has a telephone been as important for me.  The uncertainty was making me crazy. Neither the mobile nor the land line were ringing. Surrounded by crackers, roasted peanuts and mango juice I sat glued to the Sony shortwave radio, listening the soccer games and waiting for the good news.

In the dissident sector there existed — and does exist — many doubts and misgivings.  And no wonder. The behavior of the Cuban government over the last 51 years is hardly something that inspires optimism.

Saturday, July 3, the rumors started.  Everyone was talking about the famous list. We called it, “Castro’s list.” The number that it comprised was like a charade. Some were saying no more than five would be freed. Others swore that a good sources assured them that all the prisoners of conscience would be out on the street.

Speculations came and went and I stayed in touch with the different families of the political prisoners. No one knew a thing. Not even a single figure of the opposition. Until the independent journalist Pablo Pacheo, sentenced to 20 years in April 2003, gave to a reliable tip.

Pacheco called me every week from Canaleta prison in Ciego do Avila. That afternoon it was raining cats and dogs in the capital and a tiny voice told me, “Ivan, be discreet, but officials from State Security told us that our stay in the cells is a question of days or weeks.”

But the news came as a surprise to me and in the least expected way, on Wednesday, July 7. While biting my nails to the quick watching the semifinal match between Spain and Germany, because the Iberians’ goal wasn’t coming, the telephone rang.

It was my mother, the journalist Tania Quintero, from the prudish and distant Swiss city of Lucerne, in a choked voice, telling me that the reporter in Cuba’s TVE just reported that the 52 remaining prisoners from the Black Spring of 2003 would be released.

I told her I would call back in ten minutes.  I wrote a note and read it over the phone. Then I called the various families who still didn’t know. Lidia Lima, wife of the economist Arnaldo Ramos, listened to me in silence. I thought the call had been cut off. But she was crying so hard she couldn’t speak.

Then I called to Ciego de Avila, to Oleidys Garcia, Pacheco’s wife. She was watching the soccer match with Jimmy, her 11-year-old son. She was mute. And then started to cry, nervously.

She said it didn’t matter if her husband was on the list. “What matters is that a new road has opened up…” she was telling me, when Puyol got a header, Spain scored, and we were so excited we decided to talk again in a minute.

In this hot and humid Havana, the names on “Castro’s list” are still unknown. The secrecy and paranoia is typical of the Cuban government.

Although no dissident should ever have been imprisoned, the gesture is appreciated. Palm branches for General Raul Castro, the Catholic Church, and the Spanish Foreign Minister, Miguel Ángel Moratinos.

Perhaps this news will help to save the life of the dissident Guillermo ‘Coco’ Fariñas. People close to Fariñas told me he was going to suspend his 125-day hunger strike.

Moratinos, a man who has been and continues to be sharply criticized by the opposition on the island and also from exile, despite his innumerable efforts to free the political prisoners, and to see Cuba once and for all on the democratic path, fulfilled his promise when he said the month of July would bring surprises.

Iván García

Photo: AFP

Saint Fermin Whom the Cuban Political Prisoners Will Not Forget

Saint Fermin, the patron saint of Pamplona, is not a saint of devotion in Cuba.  But this July 7, 2010, the 52 political prisoners of the Black Spring of 2003 and their relatives will never forget him.

After many days of prayers and uncertainties, today something has happened.  A statement by Raul Castro himself has declared that the Spanish chancellor, Miguel Angel Moratinos, has been informed that the 52 prisoners that remained from the Group of the 75 and which were jailed 7 years ago, will be released.

The news that has been going around the world, while I write this post, had not yet been known to the majority of the internal opposition nor to the remarkable Ladies in White.  A very important part of this victory is due to them, and also to the name of Orlando Zapata Tamayo, which we will dedicate it to his mother, Reina Luisa Tamayo.

And if this news came just in time for someone, it is for Guillermo Fariñas, who we hope will abandon his hunger strike and will commence the slow recuperation process of his damaged body.

The names of the political prisoners who will leave Cuba are still unknown, as is whether it will be immediately or within the next few months, and if they will leave alone or accompanied by their closest relatives.  But today, in a telephone call from his son Jimmy, 11.

In and out of the island there have been, and will continue to be, many different opinions, in favor and against the negotiations between the government, the Catholic Church, and Spain.  Debate is healthy.  Let us continue debating.  Let us draw lessons from this and let us attempt to leave irreconcilable divergences aside, both in the opposition and in the exile.

Differences aside, for the family members of these 52 prisoners, July 7, 2010, the day of Saint Fermin, will be unforgettable.

In order to reach the end of a long path, it’s not always the best option to run.  Most of the time it is better to walk slowly.

Step by step.  And today, whether we like it or not, Spain and the Catholic Church, along with other mediators, have taken the first steps to empty the jails of this island of Cubans whose biggest crime has been to think differently.

Ivan Garcia

Photo:  joseliusgildela, Flickr.  Saint Fermin in the Cuesta of San Domingo in Navarra, Spain.

Translated by Raul G.

Moratinos Wants to Score a Political Goal

Everyone knows that the Spanish Foreign Minister has character. No one doubts that Miguel Angel Moratinos is a diplomat of the old school. Of those who don’t try to sugar coat the pill. A guy who speaks frankly and looks you in the eye.

But on the subject of Cuba he has achieved little. The Cuban government always has managed to fool the Iberian executive. Anyway. Above all the presidents of the Spanish Socialist Party (PSOE).

They are their favorite targets. The Castros delight in showing up the Spanish socialist leaders as fools. Felipe González knows this well. The Seville attorney always believed that in his game with Fidel Castro he held the winning hand.

The old guerilla, shaken by the collapse of the USSR and suffocated by the lack of hard currency in state coffers, lowered his head and seemed to listen to the political advice of his friend, who invited him to make changes on the island.

In the first change, Castro took off the mask and did the exact opposite of what he’d been counseled to do by the Baron of the PSOE.

I fear that the situation is different now. Not because the Castro brothers want to make a 180 degree turn in the state of things in this country. It happens that in this summer as hot as Africa there are few traps and alternatives left to choose from in the commandante‘s trunk of tricks.

The Castros are up against the wall. The economy raised the white flag a long time ago. After 51 years of authoritarian government, people want a different kind of life. The mandarins have two options: either make the urgent changes that Cuba needs, or lose power in the medium term.

And the throne is pancakes with honey for those who have enjoyed it for half a century. Moratinos does not plan to come in as a bullfighter to deliver the last thrust. No. He plans to come to the rescue. Provide oxygen and a decent way out of the debacle that has engulfed the regime after the death on hunger strike of the opponent Orlando Zapata.

Right now, the psychologist and independent journalist Guillermo Fariñas is on the brink of death after four months without food in a bed Arnaldo Milián Hospital in the province of Villa Clara, 300 kilometers from Havana.

The government can not afford another martyred opponent. Not at this time. Fariñas is demanding the release of 26 prisoners of conscience of the more than 200 found on the island, according to Amnesty International.

The United States, the European Union and half the world have also asked for this. And of course José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero and Foreign Minister Moratinos. The Castro want the pressure removed. They’re going to toss ballast overboard. They may release a significant number of prisoners. Perhaps all those imprisoned in March 2003.

Although it remains to be seen who will reap the political laurels. America is the permanent enemy. The sullen and impassive European Union has treated the government of Havana rudely in recent years. Then you look at Spain. In the end, it is the one with the key that can unlock the Common Position of the 27 European countries.

Either way, the PSOE is the least of the enemies. And Spain, with its habit of mediating in Cuba’s thorny problems, the perfect actor to score the goal. Moratinos is the man chosen by the Castros to sing the victory song.

Closed societies like Cuba are unpredictable. And it only takes an inappropriate word, an outburst on a bad day for the leaders or for distrust, and everything goes down the tubes.

In authoritarian governments the heart counts for more than reason. Moratinos is about to score a political goal. But he’ll need to keep a sharp eye out to be sure the government doesn’t spring a trap. And he falls out of the game. With the Castros, anything is possible.

The Cinema, Soccer and Vuvuzelas

Exciting atmosphere. It’s 2:10 in the afternoon and outside the Yara cinema, right in the heart of the central 23rd Avenue, there are hundreds of people with T-shirts, caps, flags and scarves for the Spanish and other countries.

Most of the fans are young students from the nearby University of Havana, who wait, biting their nails, for the second round match between the Spain of Iker Casillas and the Portugal of Cristiano Ronaldo.

Ubaldo Arias, 23, who studied this last year for a career in philosophy, is at the front of group supporting the Red Fury. Dressed in shirts of “Guaje” Villa, Fernando Torres and Xavi Hernandez.

They chant slogans. They are convinced Spain will be the new world champions. Some dark guys with their “canary” green and red mock them.

Arias and his band enter laughing, while fraternizing they tell them, “See you in the final.” There is still a stretch of competition. But the expected Spain-Brazil duel for the title is a real possibility.

A few minutes later the line forms. They start to sell tickets at two pesos (10 cents in dollars). The theater looks like a mini stadium.  It’s full.

On the big screen they’re showing the last game with Lithuania.  The room erupts with the racket of a thousand demons when the mustachioed Vicente del Bosque appears getting off the bus at the South African stadium.

The fans are chanting the names of the eleven Iberians, when they emerge on screen. “Ole, ole, ole Casillas, ole ole Tarzan Puyol, ” and so on until the 23 Spanish players get off the bus, on this island where it usually takes baseball to get most Cubans to their feet.

Since they started the second round matches, the theater management, ICAIC and the Institute of Radio and Television has the bright idea of showing the games on the wide screen.

People appreciate it. No alcoholic beverages are allowed inside. The various loyalties are discussed with passion and respect for the firm support of their different teams.

It’s true that Brazil, Argentina and Spain steal the show. But there are also, on the island, many rooting for The Netherlands and Germany. The good mood engulfs the bewildered tourists, who watch the enthusiasm with which Cubans enjoy the World Cup.

Latin American students are given their turn at the Yara cinema, to support the teams of their preferences. They are the coming generation. It could be the World Cup of America.

Four teams in the quarterfinals and a hunger for glory. It is not only Brazil and Argentina. Uruguay knows what it is to raise a cup and look askance at Julet Rimes’ trophy. Paraguay wants to make history.

But first they have to pass through comfortably placed Spain. While reaching the quarter finals, the different gangs enjoy the beauty of their triumph and suffer when their eleven goes tearfully back to the locker room.

No one can deny the good mood in the Yara. When David Villa scored the winning goal against Portugal that sent them into the quarterfinals, those in attendance, about two thousand of them, deliriously shouted GOOOOOOOOOAL.

At dark, many embraced. They jumped and shouted, “SPAIN! SPAIN!” These are the good things of football. The worse, the annoying high pitched noise of the vuvuzela. I don’t know how they managed to appear in Havana. But before such an event, someone passes them out. A World Cup is a World Cup.

Iván García

Photo: Kaloain Santos

Vacations, a Headache for Many Families

Summer vacation is here.  This means joy for children, adolescents, and young adults.  But many parents will have to take some aspirins.  If they managed to save some money in the moneybox during the last year, like 45-year-old Mario Guillen, then they might withstand the blow.

Guillen, a steel mill worker who works 10 hours a day in a factory on the outskirts of Havana and dedicates his free time to making steel windows and doors, is a cautious man.

When he shattered his red piggy bank, he counted 438 convertible pesos (that is nearly 330 dollars).  Sitting with his wife on a humid and rainy night towards the last days of June, they made some plans.

They have two sons, one is 10 and the other is 14.  Both are on summer vacation from school.  Guillen and his wife made their plans a month ago.  “We are thinking of taking our kids to the theatre, to the theme park, a quality restaurant, and the pool.  No beaches, they have told me that with oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico there have been numerous predatory marine animals that have migrated to our shores”, his wife, Mariana, worriedly states.

Rumors of fierce sharks and giant seals circling around the coasts off the beaches East of Havana really worry the parents.  According to specialists and the official press, all these rumors are false.  But some parents still harbor these fears.

The Guillen couple will also purchase provisions for the two months of vacation that their sons have.  Now, instead of feeding them once a day, they will need to also be given lunch and snacks.  “We’ll have to get some pork meat on the black market, in addition to fresh fish and chicken, rice, beans, oil, ham, sausages, and powdered soda.  We’ll spend nearly 150 convertible pesos (120 dollars) on that,” points out Guillen while he makes calculations on his old Chinese-made calculator.

At least the Guillen family has enough money to plan their kids’ vacations.  But if you ask Rogelio Ortega, a black man with huge eyes and a protruding belly, what recreational plans does he have for his 5 children, he’d stare back at you as if you were a strange creature.

“Same as always, lots of television. The boys could go play baseball or soccer on the streets, without shoes though, so they won’t ruin the few they already have. As for the girls, they’ll have to help their mom and grandma and play with their dolls.  If I get my hands on some money, I’ll take them to the coast on a random weekend so they could go for a swim between the rocks,” he explains in a very calm manner.

“You are not scared of a possible wave of sharks?”, I ask him. Ortega pats me on the shoulder and says:  “Those sharks are gonna have to be scared of my kids instead.  If they see it close to them, it’s most probable that they will probably eat it, fin and all,” he says while laughing.

Families like that of Rogelio Ortega are already familiar with what summer vacation means. More of the same. TV, one meal a day, and the kids having to deal with it whichever way they can. Their finances don’t produce enough for any other option.

For Junior Mendoza, 20, a university student, vacations just mean work.  “My parents don’t have the resources, I usually end up working in whatever clandestine job I can find for those two months. Sometimes I end up working at a cafeteria, an illegal cigarette factory, or even selling clothes and pacotilla (cheap merchandise).  I’m the salvation of my family during the vacations,” points out the young man with a piercing on his right ear.

For now, the World Cup serves as entertainment for the majority of Cuban families.  When June 11 comes around the series concludes, then that’s when the good stuff starts.  An abundance of worries, lack of money, and lack of provisions.  The government promised a wide variety of recreational options.  A wide billboard announcing TV programs, including 55 new series and nearly 500 films.  There will be sales of books, parties, fairs in public squares, and even some food offers.

Those who were able to save some money, like the family of Mario Guillen, will be aware of such events.  Those who don’t have even a cent, like the smiling Rogelio Ortega, could not care less about what they offer for the 2010 vacations.  For his family, summer is not a special event.  On the contrary.  It is a headache.

Ivan Garcia

Photo:  johnhope14, Flickr

Translated by Raul G.

The Cinema, Soccer and Vuvuzelas

Exciting atmosphere. It’s 2:10 in the afternoon and outside the Yara cinema, right in the heart of the central 23rd Avenue, there are hundreds of people with T-shirts, caps, flags and scarves for the Spanish and other countries.

Most of the fans are young students from the nearby University of Havana, who wait, biting their nails, for the second round match between the Spain of Iker Casillas and the Portugal of Cristiano Ronaldo.

Ubaldo Arias, 23, who studied this last year for a career in philosophy, is at the front of group supporting the Red Fury. Dressed in shirts of “Guaje” Villa, Fernando Torres and Xavi Hernandez.

They chant slogans. They are convinced Spain will be the new world champions. Some dark guys with their “canary” green and red mock them.

Arias and his band enter laughing, while fraternizing they tell them, “See you in the final.” There is still a stretch of competition. But the expected Spain-Brazil duel for the title is a real possibility.

A few minutes later the line forms. They start to sell tickets at two pesos (10 cents in dollars). The theater looks like a mini stadium. It’s full.

On the big screen they’re showing the last game with Lithuania. The room erupts with the racket of a thousand demons when the mustachioed Vicente del Bosque appears getting off the bus at the South African stadium.

The fans are chanting the names of the eleven Iberians, when they emerge on screen. “Ole, ole, ole Casillas, ole ole Tarzan Puyol, ” and so on until the 23 Spanish players get off the bus, on this island where it usually takes baseball to get most Cubans to their feet.

Since they started the second round matches, the theater management, ICAIC and the Institute of Radio and Television has the bright idea of showing the games on the wide screen.

People appreciate it. No alcoholic beverages are allowed inside. The various loyalties are discussed with passion and respect for the firm support of their different teams.

It’s true that Brazil, Argentina and Spain steal the show. But there are also, on the island, many rooting for The Netherlands and Germany. The good mood engulfs the bewildered tourists, who watch the enthusiasm with which Cubans enjoy the World Cup.

Latin American students are given their turn at the Yara cinema, to support the teams of their preferences. They are the coming generation. It could be the World Cup of America.

Four teams in the quarterfinals and a hunger for glory. It is not only Brazil and Argentina. Uruguay knows what it is to raise a cup and look askance at Julet Rimes’ trophy. Paraguay wants to make history.

But first they have to pass through comfortably placed Spain. While reaching the quarter finals, the different gangs enjoy the beauty of their triumph and suffer when their eleven goes tearfully back to the locker room.

No one can deny the good mood in the Yara. When David Villa scored the winning goal against Portugal that sent them into the quarterfinals, those in attendance, about two thousand of them, deliriously shouted GOOOOOOOOOAL.

At dark, many embraced. They jumped and shouted, “SPAIN! SPAIN!” These are the good things of football. The worse, the annoying high pitched noise of the vuvuzela. I don’t know how they managed to appear in Havana. But before such an event, someone passes them out. A World Cup is a World Cup.

Iván García

Photo: Kaloain Santos

Iván’s Blog: Iván’s File Cabinet

Waiting for the Americans

There is still a labyrinth of parliamentary procedures. But the U.S. Congress is considering authorizing the travel of its citizens to Cuba. The measure appears to have great potential for adoption.

Already the Castro brothers are sharpening their teeth. If the gringo politicians say yes, cash registers will overflow with dollars. Let the ‘bucks’ (dollars) we are waiting for come, it could mean the government of the island!

And how needed they are. We know that the Cuban economy is not even treading water. For 17 years, since they legalized the possession of dollars in 1993, in large part, the emigrants, the despised ‘worms’, as Fidel Castro liked to say with some rage, are those who have kept the impoverished economy from sinking.

Yes. Its more than one billion greenbacks a year are the lifeline of a regime that has always been repulsed by the “American way of life.” The United States is public enemy number one for Fidel Castro. But there’s been a lot of water under the bridge since 1959.

And while you stir the guts of the old guerrilla commander, in this 2010, the land of Stars and Stripes is the leading seller of food to Cuba. Also their NGOs are the ones who provide the most help. And Cuban-Americans, are an important segment of the people who come to go sightseeing and spend hard currency.

The embargo is a fossil of the cold war. A joke. It only served as a pretext for Castro to maintain his authoritarian policies and to deny a handful of essential freedoms to his people.

It always had more holes than Swiss cheese. While Castro, the one with the beard, shouts himself hoarse in any public plaza, talking about what the country suffered because of the”blockade,” while hard currency shops and cafes sell Coca Cola and Dell computers.

For the rest, the world condemned the prohibitory and unilateral policy of Washington to Havana. It is healthy that the administration of Obama reconsiders. And demolishes all the scaffolding mounted on a stage that many years ago said goodbye.

Cuba is no longer a prodigal and conflicting son of the former USSR. Let it be known, Latin American and African guerrillas are not training in military camps on the island, to create pockets of civil war in other nations.

To not allow U.S. citizens to travel to the island was a major folly. It brazenly violated their rights. The champion of democracy and freedoms could not afford such nonsense.

Either way, Americans who wanted to, could come to Cuba through a third country. More than 50 thousand per year, according to reliable figures. Although they feared the Castros.

If the embargo ends and travel is allowed he will continue ruling with an iron fist all who oppose him, and then the eyes of the world will be on an anachronistic and undemocratic regime.

Already the local mandarins have tried out a few variations. If the Yankees take their foot off the accelerator, it could be that the Cuban government, kicking the ball back into Obama’s court, might make some mid-sized changes, maybe even some profound ones.

Those who govern our destinies do not believe in representative democracy. But will do what they have to do to stay in power.

No wonder that during the stay of the Spanish Foreign Minister Miguel Angel Moratinos, in the coming days, they will release 52 political prisoners from the Black Spring of 2003. As a reward for Spain’s Socialist Party, a faithful friend through thick and thin. And as Spain will be able to claim the laurels, it will not appear that such releases have been conditioned by the possible openings from Obama’s government.

With that, the Castros will kill two birds with one stone. They get the international pressure to ease up a bit, and incidentally, unlock the European Union’s common position. That fox Moratinos knows a thing or two.  He already said there could soon be some surprises.

This summer brings a three-way political game. United States, Spain and the Cuban Catholic Church, which is chosen by the government to serve as mediator in the conflict with the Yankees and the release of political prisoners.

The brothers from Birán need peace and some leeway to implement a series of tough and unpopular ecnomic measures to get the country out of the hole created by bad management. If tomorrow the Yankees land in Havana, it won’t only benefit the managers of tourism. It will benefit the Castros, too.

And, of course, the Cubans who live on the informal economy. And there are many. Gringos putting dollars into the hands of private homes for rent and buying illegal tobacco boxes. Whores chasing after the blong guys, tall and unmarried from America, they might even propose marriage.

As I write this note the news still hadn’t run from mouth to mouth, but the neigbors I talk to receive it with great joy. Even the married and ex-military party militant. The happiest, the private taxi driver who brought me to a hotel and the waiter who served me coffee while I connected to the internet.

The two gave me an opinion that I happen to share: “If the Cuban government wants the Americans to come en masse, they’re going to have to eliminate that diabolical 20% tax on the dollar.”

Otherwise the Yankees are going to keep on visiting Punta Cana.

Iván García

Photo: Patricio Bridges, Flickr

Hunger Strikes, Weapon of Cuban Dissidents

A tragic fashion. Objectionable to many. The only option the opponents have. They believe that in this way they can force the regime. It is their war cry. But it is not a new weapon.

Already in 1972 a 53-day hunger strike took the life of opponent Pedro Luis Boitel. It was before the era of the internet and global media. Few learned of it. One of the principal dissident organizations on the island bears his name.

After 1959, it was one of the most-used measures by those imprisoned for opposing Fidel Castro and his revolution. According to Archivo Cuba, of the 59 to date, at least 12 political prisoners have died from hunger strikes. Others gave up or, at the request of family and friends, reconsidered their position.

Oscar Elias Biscet, a gynecologist who began his criticism of Castro condemning abortion and demanding respect for basic human and political rights, used fasting as a tool to draw worldwide attention and to put the stubborn and rigid commander’s back against the wall.

He failed. Nor did the opponent Orlando Zapata Tamayo succeed, he died after 86 days without food in the hellish prisons of the island.

Right now, there are several Cubans who, as a way to protest for their demands, have chosen hunger strikes, more or less strict.

One of them is Egberto Escobedo Morales, who on April 16 declared a hunger strike in prison in Camagüey. Escobedo was arrested in July 1995 and sentenced to 20 years imprisonment, for the alleged crimes of “spying, theft with force, and enemy propaganda.” With his strike, he demanded that the regime dialogue with internal opposition. His situation critical, ten days ago he was taken to hospital Combinado del Este in Havana.

Guillermo Fariñas, a psychologist and freelance journalist, has maintained his strike from the February 24, as reported in this blog. A twitter from the opposition Martha Beatriz Roque, reported that on the night of Sunday 27 June, a group of dissidents was going to spend the night outside the hospital Arnaldo Milian, of Santa Clara.

Since March 11 Fariñas has been in intensive care there, but his health has deteriorated alarmingly. His current physical status is unknown. Although he is permitted visitors, similar to the June 19 case of Ariel Sigler Amaya, recently released from prison, they have not let anyone take photos or videos.

It is not the first time that Fariñas has decided to use hunger strikes as a weapon of pressure. Is the 23rd. A record.

One who uses this method for the first time is Juan Juan Almeida García, son of the legendary Juan Almeida Bosque, one of the stalwarts of the Revolution. He has gone two weeks without food but he is taking liquids. He has decided to undertake a hunger strike because the government will not let him travel abroad, to visit his wife and daughter. It remains to be seen whether the son of the guerilla can move the general.

Unlike Zapata, Escobedo and Fariñas, Almeida junior is someone close to the Castro family. For a while he lived in the home of Raul Castro. And he became a close friend of Alexander, Raul’s only son. He does not make political claims. He just wants to respect for his rights and to be allowed to leave and return to his country.

Others who have decided to use hunger strikes as a weapon of pressure in 2010, are accused of trafficking in persons, fourteen of them in the Ariza prison in the province of Cienfuegos.

In Havana, the Cuban Yamil Dominguez, 37, has gone 75 days without eating, only drinking water, in the maximum security prison, Combinado del Este.

Yamil was arrested in 2007 and sentenced to 10 years for the crime of human trafficking, in an illegal trial according to independent lawyers. After three years in prison, and after exhausting all legal requirements established by the Constitution, Dominguez opted for the hunger strike.

Independent sources report two Cuban political prisoners in their respective prisons who have declared a hunger strike, Diosdado and Abel Linares López Díaz Pérez, as well as the opponent Guillermo del Sol Perez, who recently released a letter stating that he has been proclaimed Fariñas’ successor, if he should die.

The fatal fashion of dissidents and prisoners, political or common, of refusing food and liquids, promises to continue to grow. But no one in the regime has taken them seriously.

There is no history of a hunger strike in Cuba that has softened the hearts of the Castro brothers. Still, the Cuban prisoners and opponents believe that hunger strikes are a weapon to pressure the regime. So far, none have succeeded.

Iván García

Photo: ABC. Juan Juan Almeida, then 5 years old, standing next to a model of the yacht Granma and Raúl Castro.

The Business of the "Pacotilla" in Havana

There are particular stores in Havana to chose from.  In some, you will find arts and crafts made by hand.  Others are better sorted than the Cuban outlet of Adidas or Zara.  This is the case with the “shopping” establishment of Rufino, age 45 and retired because of an illness.

In his house he sells everything.  In fact, he even orders things.  His wife receives you in their living room with a Colgate smile.  She’ll lead you to a spacious and well-ventilated room where there is a closet that takes up an entire wall.  In it, hang numerous articles of clothing.

In a mahogany shoe-rack there are over two dozen pairs of shoes.  For all preferences, too.  Nike, Adidas, New Balance.  There are even leather Italian and Brazilian shoes.  There are even Guess and Levi shirts and jeans.  There are Lacoste shirts and Mango dresses.

Without ever letting her smile fade, the lady then shows us another room where there is a wide range of toys and electric appliances.  “Always cheaper than the store,” she tells us.

In the patio of the house they display hardware supplies. In his square shorts and Hawaiian sandals, the owner of the illegal shop, Rufino, asks us if we are satisfied.

This kind of private store, without authorization from the government, has surged throughout the entire capital during the last few years.  They compete in price with the State stores and many times they are better in quality.

Ernesto, 39, also dedicates himself to the pacotilla business.  He is a man who speaks well and is smart.  He graduated in History, but his degree resides in a drawer somewhere in his room.

“Pacotilla,” in the singular, is what Cubans call one or more cheap merchandise articles.  Many times they are copies of name brand products, a field where the Chinese are specialists.

“Selling pacotilla makes more money,” assures Ernesto.  “One day I told my family in Miami that, instead of sending me 200 dollars monthly, I would prefer if they lent me 5 thousand dollars to set up a clothing store.”

Two years ago, his family finally lent him that money.  In a year and half, Ernesto paid them back.  “I sell clothes for all sorts of price ranges, and if someone wishes to purchase something exclusive, then I simply order it for them.”

Since 1992, the allocation of industrial products on the ration book disappeared and so too did the practice of Father State yearly granting each Cuban citizen a pair of shoes and two articles of clothing; now Cubans had to find their way however they could.

And if you want to be trendy, you have to have lots of cash.  But they get their hands on it.  Especially in Havana, where the majority of young kids want to go about dressed similar to those in any other Western city.  They want to carry their iPods, iPphones, Motorola cells, etc.

It’s known that the money necessary to purchase pacotilla mostly comes from all the financial assistance sent to Cubans by families in exile, especially those in the US.  Lots of the money also comes from prostitution.  With hard currency, prostitutes spend crazy amounts on clothes, shoes, and perfume.

In 1993 the dollar was legalized.  Since then, variety stores, commonly known as “shoppings”, sprouted up throughout the country selling pacotilla by weight  For an even more select club, boutiques were created with sky-rocketing prices.

Similarly, in the clandestine market a handful of people are dedicated to buying and selling clothes, shoes, perfumes, jewelry, toys, and even computers and plasma TVs, began to appear.

Thanks to massive collaboration of doctors, teachers, and sports trainers in Bolivia, Ecuador, and Venezuela (amongst other countries), a good number of those who are carrying out “solidary missions” from the strict salary that the Cuban government pays them, they save money and acquire pacotilla in significant amounts.  Later, they sell them when they return to the island.

Rene, 32, is a lucky guy.  He is the auditor of a company which does business with Venezuela and he travels to South American countries four times a year.  When he is in Cuba he buys dollars in bulk, at 0.92 cents U.S. for each Cuban Convertible Peso (CUC).  He pays better than the state offices; they give 0.80 cents U.S for one CUC.

He always leaves for Caracas with at least 3 to 4 thousand dollars in his Samsonite suitcase.  He uses nearly all of it to purchase pacotilla in commercial centers in the capital of Venezuela.

Business has not been bad for Rene.  He has been able to repair his house and is even thinking of buying an American car from the 50’s.  Truth be told, his pacotilla share the quality of those sold by Rufino, whose slogan is “good, pretty, and cheap.”  Even though the “cheap” part will be determined as time goes on.

Ivan Garcia

Photo: yanroux, Flickr

Translated by Raul G.

What they Don’t Tell Us about the Matamoros Trio

Fifty years ago, on May 10, 1960, the Matamoros Trio, headed by Siro Rodriguez, Rafael Cueto, and Miguel Matamoros, performed in public for the last time.  They bid their farewells on the program called Partagas Thursdays, one of the most popular Cuban TV shows at the time.

According to the Colombian investigator, Walter G. Magaña, “the silence which the Matamoros Trio was subdued in was not accidental.  We must remember that on January 1, 1959, the movement headed by Fidel Castro had displaced the president Fulgencio Batista, and during that time period the leader of the Cuban revolution announced Cuba’s integration into communism (a year later, in 1961, he announced it to the world during the ONU)- a move which Miguel Matamoros was never supportive of.  Therefore, in order to not musically represent a communist country before international eyes, he opted for silence”.

Magaña then continues detailing:  “Everyone was aware of the sympathy that Batista felt for the Trio, thanks to all their compositions previously made against the politics of the dictator Gerardo Machado.  In the 50’s, when Miguel Matamoros returned to the structure of the Trio with very irregular activity, Congress granted them economic help so their members could live decently, according to Jose Pardo Llada, the Cuban journalist who lived in Cali (and passed away in 2009).”

If such statements are accurate, the interpreters of “Son de la loma“, “El que siembra su maiz“, and “La mujer de Antonio“, along with many other famous songs, did not sympathize with the bearded revolution.  In fact, most of them came from Oriente province, just like them.

But that anti-communism, or anti-fidelism, is not exposed to the public today in Cuba.  The songs of the Matamoros Trio, just like those of Ignacio Piñeiro, Benny More, Bola de Nieve, and other great Cuban musicians, are among the most covered songs in the world.  And the cultural authorities prefer to ignore it and just skip the page.

Political disagreements aside, in Cuba the Trio from Santiago is still very much venerated.  Recently, in order to commemorate the 85 years since its beginning on May 8, 1925, in the Trio’s native city, Santiago de Cuba, Cafe Matamoros was reopened.  Every two years that large city is host to the International “Matamoroson” Festival.  The latest edition, in 2009, commemorated the 115th anniversary of the birth of Miguel Matamoros.

The version of “Lagrimas Negras” (‘Black Tears’) which Bebo Valdes and Diego El Cigala interpreted is well known in the five continents.  But perhaps very few know that the woman who inspired this song was not Cuban.

In 1930, during a tour in the Dominican Republic, the Matamoros Trio witnessed an unexpected hurricane.  The devastation was tremendous and the death toll was up in the thousands.  The musicians returned to Santiago de Cuba in a Cuban military plane that had transported doctors and medicines to the Dominican Republic as humanitarian aid.

Impacted by the disaster, Miguel Matamoros first composed “El Trio y el Ciclon” (‘The Trio and the Hurricane’), and a few days after, “Lagrimas Negras”.  The lyrics to this song were inspired by a lady that he saw crying uncontrollably in Santo Domingo.  Her husband had abandoned her and between sobs she would utter that she did not care if she died because that man had been the love of her life.

Miguel Matamoros (1894-1971) was not only a talented composer and innovative musician, but also a chronicler of his era.

It’s noted that in June 1929, the Basque doctor Fernando Asuero (San Sebastian; 1887-1942) arrived in Cuba. He had become a media hit in Spain, Portugal, France, Argentina, and Mexico, among other countries, for having discovered a method to cure certain kinds of paralysis by pinching a nerve known as the “trigeminal.”

That “therapy” did not cure anyone on the island.  But the volume of information about the doctor and his miraculous cures served as inspiration for Matamoros to write “El Paralitico” (‘The Paralytic’).

The Paralytic is an original and catchy son.  But its lyrics aren’t as brutal as the “Cocainomana”, a song which Silvio Rodriguez made an excellent cover of.

Ivan Garcia

Photo: jaramij, Flickr

Translated by Raul G.