Now, as the 2013 Art Deco Congress is being held in our country, and invitees and delegates attend its conferences, an average of three residential structures a day collapse in the capital.

The influence of Art Deco, which dates to the 1920s and 1930s, was strongly felt throughout the world in the decorative arts, painting, fashion, sculpture, cinema and graphic design.

The most emblematic architectural example in our country is the Bacardi Building, constructed from 1930 to 1938. The Cuban architects Esteban Rodríguez Castell, Rafael Fenández Ruenes and José Menéndez oversaw its design and execution. It is considered by many to be their masterpiece and fortunately remains in a very good state of preservation.

Examples and remnants of this movement proliferate throughout the city. Among them in the López Serrano Building – a beautiful example of this style, a structure of elegance and a striking design – which has been plundered and abused as a result of neglect and apathy on the part of government officials. It is at risk of being lost if urgent measures are not taken to address these issues. Other examples include the América, Fausto and Arenal cinemas, all in peril as well.

In health care this architectural style finds expression in the América Arias infant and maternity hospital by the architects Govantes and Cabarrocas. A beautiful example of Art Deco, this building has also been abused and it too is in danger of being lost. There is also the Pedro Borras children’s hospital, which has been closed for more than two decades due to structural problems, no doubt caused by nearby explosions during the construction fever of 1980s when tunnels were being built all throughout the city as part of the “War of All the People” campaign. At the time of its construction this facility was the largest example of this architectural style, larger even than similar examples in the city of Chicago.

In terms of military buildings the Moncada Barracks in the city of Santiago de Cuba is in a very good state of preservation indeed.

During a wonderful presentation called “The Havana of Today and Tomorrow” yesterday afternoon in the House of Green Tiles in Miramar, the architect Miguel Coyula employed the term art-kitsch-tecture (one he coined himself) to refer to monstrosities produced by people with resources but without the slightest amount of taste who have managed to build new homes or remodel those they already own. In other words, something horrendous.

One of the issues that most caught the attention of those present was the extremely high proportion, close to 90%, of owners of homes, but not of the buildings, leading to the term “no man’s land.” The building has no owner, therefore mo maintenance or services. Every resident solves their own problems however they can, and this further accelerates the deterioration of the building. In addition, there is the increasingly rampant individualism. “To own does not mean to maintain” the speaker said. The owner of an apartment whose salary is 300 Cuban pesos a month, cannot invest 45% of that to buy a gallon of paint.

Another of the most important reasons for the deterioration of the city, according to Coyula, is the aging of the population. The emigration of young and well-educated people, as well as the migration to the capital of residents of other provinces who, for the most part, are not well-educated and who come mostly for economic reasons and settling wherever they can regardless of the conditions, has significantly increased the number of slum neighborhoods and favelas.

This is the current landscape of a greatly overpopulated city; what will be its future?

17 March 2013

Although I have not written anything for quite a few days, a thousand ideas are turning over in my head that I cannot seem to organize enough to put down in black and white.

As usual, events on my planet are annoying and even painful, and although far from the theatre where they are taking place, they still affect me. Especially troubling is the five-year prison sentence of Angel Santiesteban, whose only crime was civilly and publicly expressing his opinion without defaming or offending anyone.

On a separate note, there is the news that Yoani Sanchez has finally been issued a passport, which will allow her to travel, and that Eliecer Avila has already dons so, and at this moment is in Sweden. The fact that this has not led to a “turbulence in our air space” gives me comfort. However, I have grown used to thinking that these supposed “gifts” are often traps that cause some resentment, which is only overcome when travellers return to “our planet,” myself included. Of course, I am always nervous when I pass through Cuban customs after a trip, although on this occasion, as in all my other previous trips, I do not think I will come back weighed down so as “not to give them the satisfaction.”

For my part, I am still convalescing from the fracture in my right hand, and mentally preparing myself for another surgery to remove the fasteners used to set the bone. As much as I can, I am trying to enjoy the company of my sons and granddaughters since there is no guarantee that I will see them again. Not only is there the distance and expense of a trip, for which they are paying, but because my meager pension and whatever I earn from my work as an artist barely provide me with an adequate diet in my country, I cannot afford to do as I please.

Nevertheless, I am enjoying the experience of new landscapes and cultures, which until now I have only known through books I have read.

Within a few days I will travel to Spain, where years ago I lived for a time and where my younger son currently lives. I then hope to break my days of silence to tell you about my stay in the mother country.

February 5 2013

Although far from my beloved planet, I keep up with what is happening there thanks to the internet, which here in this corner of France, as in almost every other country, is available to all, which is not the case back home, where only the most privileged have free access to it.

This small city of 20,000 inhabitants has everything any human being would need to live—heated homes, well-paved roads and excellent traffic signals, clean streets and sidewalks, a system for sorting out the trash generated in the course of daily life, schools, churches, stores, restaurants, parks, supermarkets and museums. Most notably the state and the citizenry also pay a great deal of attention to protected ecological zones, the preservation and care of plants and wildlife, and to city rules and regulations. It has,in other words, everything that a human being needs for a good and healthy existence.

Being with this very important part of my family, I cannot get out of my mind how ironic it is that my small island is being punished— as though all the exhaustion and suffering that has built up for more than half a century were not enough— by an epidemic that had been eradicated since the 19th century.

Today, I carefully observed citizens and neighbors taking their own trash to locations near their homes, where all this material was sorted into separate containers to be later recycled and repurposed as new commodities. Even children know about and take part in this activity. In their homes and in their schools they are educated and informed about the importance of this civic activity. They are also taught respect for community property and the need to abide by rules and regulations. All this made me embarrassed for my country, which until 1959 was at the forefront in Latin America with respect to hygiene and public health. This was also true in many other areas, where we ranked at or near the top, not only in the region, but also in relation to some European countries.

As it began to snow, the picturesque landscape of Alsatian buildings— some very old ones mixed with modern ones, all built according to regulations and respectful of an architectural sensibility that does not disrupt the harmony of the surroundings— took on a new enchantment as it became cloaked in white.

Returning from out stroll, we walked along Allée des Platanes, between the villages of Blotzheim and Altkirsch, which had been planted with trees on both sides of the roadway during the reign of Napoleon III. I could not help thinking about my neighbors in Havana, Carmelo and Felipe, who had not left a single tree standing on our street. Here is but one example of the differences in culture and education.

January 21 2013

When I was a child, I heard my grandmother talk about the hard times of cholera, and of how her family had escaped from this terrible disease. That was all I knew of this plaque, pure history.

And it turns out that now, in the 21st century, in “my beloved planet”, that terrible word is mentioned again. After those stories told by his grandmother María, I again heard about this pandemic when I enjoyed reading the famous novel by García Márquez: Love in the Time of Cholera, passionately losing myself in his unforgettable character Florentino Ariza.

I was surprised, it’s true, that for so many years we had weathered the danger of such a plague, because our beloved island is increasingly sinking into more precarious hygienic conditions die to the apathy and neglect in all sectors, in all social spheres. Thanks to our relentless sun, we have survived some diseases.

I have written a great deal in my blog, about the lack of hygiene and cleanliness in public places, among them, unfortunately, polyclinics and hospitals, as well as cafes and stalls, State and private (some), selling light and not so light food for public consumption, especially for those who do not have hard currency and are forced to go to them.

I avoid at all costs, and so I tell anyone whom I can within my power, not to consume these drinks made with flavored powders, because the lack of safe drinking water is very common, especially in places like Old Havana, where there are the largest number of tourists and local visitors.

Another of the reasons I resist, when the impertinent fumigation brigades, try to break into my house when they want to fill it with smoke from burning oil, is that time has shown that it is completely ineffective in liquidating the famous mosquito, while the hygiene of the environment and the city are so precarious.

Now, more worryingly, and in what must be emphasized to the authorities and the population in general, is the need to maintain the highest possible hygiene in our homes and our environment, so that this outbreak of cholera does not become endemic as has its other relative, dengue fever.

January 18 2013

Last night, with a temperature below zero, but with the warmth of our enthusiasm, Tito and I undertook the route from France to Basel, Switzerland, in search of a new Cuban corner.

At Rümenlibachweg Street # 9 4052, in Basel, we found a cozy restaurant on the corner called El Cubanito, a bar-café. This cozy place was opened, after great effort on sacrifice, on December 29, 2012.

Its owner and hostess, a beautiful and friendly Cuban is proud, and rightly so the end result of her sacrifice.

When we arrived, and the place was already full, and musicians ready to begin: Dianelis, the singer, Jorge El Guajiro, on guitar and Coco on percussion, vibrated with Cuban music in the new place.

Already more Cubans were arriving as the night wore on, some young, some not so young, in a good wave that filled the room.

Dianelis, with her wonderful voice was giving us an overview of Cuban rhythms, offering a very special entertainment and her Besamé Mucho. They were soon joined by imitating the sound of the base in his throat, Alcides Toirac. They also incorporated the sounds of other Cubans present, playing keys and maraca.

We spent an amazing night and were among the last to leave when the place closed.

A feeling of nostalgia and longing for our homeland and family, and of joy, was the atmosphere that reigned in the particular room.

January 13 2013

Three years ago, when I decided to open up a blog, giving my real name and my surname, I began timidly to write. I remember my first post was to describe the year-end party, to which had been invited in Centro Habana. That was something amazing, I could only describe it as a wild west.

Now, on my third anniversary, I thought I would post something happy, cheerful, or at least entertaining, because after many adventures, and years of separation, I finally came back to visit my family in this beautiful Alsatian city called Saint Louis, in France on the border with Switzerland and Germany, where just crossing a bridge, investing about twenty minutes, you can find yourself in either of these two countries, without anyone along the way asking you for your identity card.

But, like the drunk has one idea while the winemaker has another… even though I hadn’t had even a sip of the excellent and famous wine produced in this region. I had a misstep: je me suis trompe, et puis tombe (I put my foot wrong and fell) downstairs.

So I ask my faithful and patient followers, as well as my regular commentators, to forgive me for having neglected my blog a bit, but I just started writing, although with difficulties, with my right hand, whose fingers, no longer inflamed, thank God, were free of the cast that still immobilizes my arm.

From my heart, I hope that you have happily begun this year 2013, in which I have asked, as the most precious gift, after health, of course, the liberation of our beloved captive country captive. A big hug!

January 11 2013