Category: Reinaldo Escobar

In order to obstruct the work of the inevitable resellers, sales were limited to ten pounds per customer, and the order was given to maintain a strict watch so that buyers didn’t go through the line again and again. In any event, because it was Good Friday, some were accompanied by their children who didn’t have school.

The price announced on the signs of the stalls was one Cuban peso a pound (about 4¢ US). But a few yards from the official vendors a bag with ten pounds was selling for 20 Cuban pesos or its equivalent, two Cuban Convertible pesos. The customers for these “parallel offers” were those who preferred to pay more to avoid the long lines, or to say it in another way, those who could permit themselves the luxury of substituting cold hard cash for waiting time.

Although the drought and the subsequent unseasonable rains have ravaged the fields, officials from the Ministry of Agriculture are optimistic and have predicted that, thanks to “staggering the cultivation,” there will be more potatoes this year than last. An announcement consumers have received with suspicion, preferring to buy every potato they can now… before the tuber rejoins the long list of products that are unavailable.

Police officers tried to persuade those gathered there not to spill into the street, because vehicles continued to circulate normally. One of them put forward the argument: “Do you think that if Obama were going to come by here there would be so few of us police officers looking after him?” To which a lady who looked like a schoolteacher replied: “And don’t you think that all these people are here because they know that he is going to come by, or at least because they want him to come by?”

Just after five in the afternoon a young man pointed at student in a high school uniform with a certain resemblance to the visitor and shouted, “Here is Obama!” and suddenly the lines fell apart; journalists fell on the student and everyone walking by with a camera or a cellphone was left with the face of the involuntary imposter on its memory card. Almost everyone knew it was a joke, but took the teasing good naturedly and there was a memorable hullabaloo.

At that point the “securities” – i.e. State Security agents – started to arrive, among them a nasty tempered guy known as Volodia, who stands out for his corpulence and for the mistreatment he doles out to dissidents. But nobody paid him much attention. Greeting Obama was permitted. There was no fear. If he had happened to pass this stretch of the Prado at that hour, I believe they would have ended up taking him out of “The Beast,” carrying him on their shoulders and heading off among cheers for Central Park.

with the approach to the “historical enemy”; however divergences exist and are based on real interests, though wrapped in the mystique of revolutionary slogans.

Who are those on each side? It would be irresponsible to put a couple of lists full of names here, but if we limit ourselves to the strictly materialistic point of view which says certain principles are nothing more than the justification of entrenched interests, we could venture a hypothesis.

In favor of the approach are those who presume they will enjoy some advantage in the area of business when détente arrives and conditions are conducive to jumping from the position of government official to that of business owner. There are those who already have their hands on the strings of the presumed piñata. They are the ones who envision a system change and don’t want to be left out of the game. Here we would have to include those who think that, if it is the case that the confrontation didn’t give our neighbor to the north its desired results, nor did it work for the development of the Cuba or for the promotion of its citizens prosperity.

First among those against the approach, are those who today enjoy innumerable privileges based on the existence of an enemy who threatens the system and, supposedly, national sovereignty. If the adversary makes commitments that it will no longer present a danger, the importance of these watchmen will be considerably reduced and the sources of undisputed power that they enjoy today will disappear. Those who fear being held to account for the abuses they committed will be worse off.

Obviously these motivations remain in the shadows, and those who choose to look beyond the transformations and see possibilities are echoing the slogan invented by Gorbachev in April 1985 when he repeated “More socialism!”, or grasping at the straws left them by Fidel Castro when in May 2000 he postulated that the Revolution was “changing everything that should be changed.” Others feel comfortable invoking the intransigence of Antonio Maceo – Cuba’s “Bronze Titan” from its early wars for independence – and affirm that they will not budge even one millimeter from their principles.

The real results of Barack Obama’s visit will become visible in April’s Seventh Congress of the Cuban Communist Party Congress. In the new Central Committee that will be chosen, and in the new figures who ascend to the Politburo, we will see who is winning the game in that muted struggle where no one takes off their mask. We will have to read between the lines of each agreement made, every word changed in the Guidelines, and what new words are added.

The foreign minister noted that, unlike the United States, Cuban has not placed restrictions on the citizens of that country visiting Cuba. However, he omitted the restrictions that Cuba’s immigration law imposes on Cubans living abroad, many of whom are denied authorization in their passport to travel to their country of origin. Others have even been prevented from boarding a plane to their homeland.

An interesting detail was that in his description of what Obama will do in Cuba, he passed over the clear intention of the US president to hold a meeting with dissidents and activists from independent civil society. It was also striking that none of the four journalists authorized to ask questions mentioned this issue, given that it has been so widely talked about.

To the question asked from Andrea Rodriguez of the Associated Press regarding whether “eliminating the tax” was the only thing Cuba was offering in response to the new package of measures from the US aimed at normalizing relations, the foreign minister referred to measures taken by the Revolution since 1959, specifically those that caused the rupture in relations. “Cuba is a country that is constantly changing,” he said, and offered as an example the Guidelines agreed to at the Sixth Congress of the Communist Party of Cuba.

On the street, the only thing people were talking about was the elimination of the tax and almost no one objected to the conditions mentioned for its implementation at the currency exchanges. Cubans take it for granted and think that the measure could bring as a collateral consequence an increase in the flow of remittances, because since the introduction of the tax in 2004 some of their relatives living in the United States felt they were being cheated with the artificial decrease in the value of the money they sent to family in Cuba.

Most of the people on the street consulted by 14ymedio were indifferent to the demand to return the Guantanamo Naval Base as well as to the reiteration at the negotiating table that there will be no talk of internal changes in Cuba because these “are and will be the sovereignty of our people.”

As much as the foreign minister wanted to sow discouragement, optimists continue to believe that Obama will bring in his diplomatic pouch irresistible offers for the people and that the government will have no option but to adapt the rigidity of the system to the new proposals, or to continue playing the role of the spoilsport.

Then I found a good angle to capture the bust of José Martí, the flag and the front of the terminal; a few steps further on, the picture improved because the control tower could be seen in the background, which is the hallmark of any airport.

When I was at a suitable distance to capture the sign with the full name of the place, a voice – polite and authoritarian – called my attention, while the image of a man interposed itself in the bottom of the frame.

“Why are you taking photos?” he asked me, almost friendly. As I was beginning to lose patience I answered with a question, “If I were a foreign tourist who was taking photos, would you say something?”

He asked me to relax, because his job was to “protect” the place and he wanted to know my motives.

To get a step ahead of his intentions, I voluntarily showed him my identity card.

Then another one came over. “What’s going on here?” he spat out in a scolding tone. Barely listening to the explanations he pulled out a card where I could see the letters DSE, which identify the Department of State Security. I’ve always wondered if in the courses these agents take they are trained to show their identification. Because they do it in such a way… that you’re left with the impression they’re going to show you… something else, a pistol, let’s say.

“Come with me!” he said, and began to walk toward a car. “And where are you taking me?” I asked. “I showed you my identification that said I am the authority, now you get in and I am taking you where you belong,” responded the agent, with a gesture not open to appeal, adding in a softer voice, “We are going to talk to you.” The only defense I found at hand was to say, “That is, if I want to talk.”

The car took me to a nearby police station. Although the trip was brief, I recalled Nguyen Van Troi, the young Vietnamese executed on 15 October 1964 for having tried to attack Robert McNamara. Van Troi was surprised while putting mines on a bridge that the United States Secretary of Defense was going to pass under on a visit to Saigon, and I was being taken along the avenue that bears his name under suspicion of disturbing a visit from Barack Obama. At least I was convinced they weren’t going to shoot me, but I couldn’t free myself from the comparison.

Upon arriving at the police station, always accompanied by the young officer who had caught me in flagrante, they sat me down on a bench with some soldiers who were resting from the tiring day of fumigating for mosquitoes. A few minutes later a gentleman around 50, who said he was Lieutenant Colonel Saul, attended to me.

His first words were, “You should know you are not under arrest. You are here to answer some questions.” He wanted to know if I was a journalist and if our organ was dedicated to doing something against the state. I showed him my card that identified me as a journalist with the digital daily 14ymedio, and he asked me who the director (male) was. “Directora (female),” I corrected, “Yoani Sanchez is the directora.” And I gave him a long explanation of our purpose as journalists.

“Ah, yes, Yoani Sanchez!” he said, as if he had understood everything in one fell swoop. He explained to me, very friendly, that they were fulfilling a duty to ensure airport security before the visit of US president. The only thing missing was the Hollywoodesque phrase, “It’s nothing personal, I’m just doing my job.” He asked me to wait a few minutes to consult with his leadership and returned almost immediately to tell me that all I had to do was to erase the photos I had taken.

“In your presence?” I asked him, as if it wasn’t obvious that that was what it was all about.

“Well, that will be easy,” I said, and under the watchful eye of the youngest official I placed four images I had captured in the virtual trash basket. At least I thought I had erased them. Only on returning to the newsroom did I discover, “to my horror,” that one of them had been saved, and it was precisely the one where my captor appeared. But I swear it was unintentional…

I leave it here above this text. I’m just doing my job, trying to show the colors they are using to paint Terminal No. 1.

when we get to the last lines of the next paragraph, where it says that the process towards normalization “has barely begun and (…) has advanced over the only possible and just terrain, respect, equality, reciprocity, and the recognition of the legitimacy of our government.”

When it comes time to discuss bilateral issues and long-standing accumulated problems, we will have to listen to the voice of those who took power by force of arms and who maintain, by force, repression, building on the maxim that a revolution is an indisputable source of law. However, to be recognized as legitimate, the mask of “our government” is put on some gentlemen in collars and ties (or an impeccable guayabera) who should have been elected in a democratic process and who should lead the country under the rule of law.

This is not an editorial failure produced from neglect or passion, but a deliberate intention to make President Barack Obama’s visit something more than the turning of a page, something more than a “clean slate.” It is trying to convert it into the acceptance (and, why not, a round of applause?) for events that, like a revolution. typify everything that has happened in Cuba over the last 56 years, which include not only “the undeniable achievements” so often advertised, but also the atrocities, whose simple enumeration would make this text interminable.

If conversations with leaders elected by the people, leaders who have no responsibility for the past, as is the case with Obama – according to what the general-president Raul Castro himself has acknowledged – then one could speak of reciprocity and equal treatment. It is not the same to sit down with those who refuse to apologize for their mistakes as it is to do so with something who does not carry the blame. It is not the same to argue, “We had not choice other than to act this way,” as it is to say, simply, “I wasn’t there, I wasn’t born when that happened.”

The editorial of 9 March deserves other observations with regards to its real intentions, but that would require too much patience from readers.

In a sequence that unfolds cleverly, we hear anecdotes and reflections where the actor uses an irreproachable naivetéas an effective weapon. Anyone who laughs is necessarily an accomplice. What he is saying with such sincerity is only funny because he no longer believes in the system and knows that no one can have so much faith after so many failures.

El Bacán justifies his alcoholism as a way to heal the frustration of his high hopes. He confesses to being a man who doesn’t give up and says he believes just like the first day. So he begins with complaints about the price the audience has paid to see the show and continues with his laments about the poor performance of the baseball team at the last Caribbean Series in Santo Domingo, his surprise at the visit of the pope and his stupefaction over the announcement of Obama’s trip to Cuba.

All of reality is subject to El Bacán’s biting irony: national television programs, shortages, government reforms, foreign telenovelas, epidemics, the political police and even the jokes that he himself spills on the stage.

The audience applauded frenetically from the stands this Thursday, belting out demands for “a la carte” humor. Among the most requested was the Cyprus monologue, a viral phenomenon in which the national audiovisual distribution networks criticize the silence of the official press about national problems while offering extensive coverage of the situations of far off nations, like Cyprus.

Nelson Gudin demonstrated, on Thursday, that drunkenness and madness have moments of painfully sober, hilarious lucidity.

half animal. It has four legs and functionally is a small chair. The card describes it this way:

“In the front there is a carved creature with a grimace on his face and bulging eyes that seem almost human, with a enormous mouth, big ears and two feet planted on the ground which in turn are the front legs of the chair. From there a wide piece of wood curves up and back, similar in form to that of a wide beavertail, supported from behind on another two legs. This creature is unlike anything that exists on Earth, but one thing is for sure, it is a male, as under this strange hybrid being between its hind legs appear carved male genitals.”

Anthropologists discuss whether there was a belief that these objects were possessed by a certain spirit that had to be rendered respect and admiration. But it is widely documented that cemis, spiritual guides of the aboriginal peoples of the Caribbean, used a duho to perform the cohoba ritual. With the help of inhaled dust and great powers of concentration, they entered the world of communication with the gods. Some scholars have interpreted the duho as, rather than a chair, a horse for travel to other dimensions.

Another important function of these “low benches,” as Don Bartolome de las Casas calls them in his chronicles of the New World, was as a seat for living leaders who were meditating. Every important visitor was accommodated on one of these chairs, an honor that, it hasbeen said, was enjoyed by Christopher Columbus himself.

In the Montane Musueum Collection at the University of Havana there is a duho carved in guayacan wood which was found in the peat on the banks of the Santa Ana River in the town of Santa Fe, west of the capital. This example, which it is prohibited to photograph, has no genitals.

As the Tainos were preliterate, there is no written testimony that tells us whether any cemis mounted on this or another duho foreshadowed the future of the island after the arrival of the European conquerors.

Perhaps now is a good time for someone with the necessary inspiration to sit in or take a ride on this museum piece.

From what country, then, are the more than 10,000 who in recent months have invaded Central America to find their way to the United States? What is the nationality of the more than one and a half million voters who chose to abstain or annul their ballots in the last elections for the People’s Power Municipal Assemblies? What is the appropriate adjective for those on this island who are criminals, committing social “indisciplines,” “diverting resources” (i.e. stealing from their workplaces), receiving merchandise of doubtful provenance? Are those millions who have settled in exile not Cubans? Are the thousands who are active in dozens of opposition organizations not Cubans? Are the hundreds who go out into the streets to protest and are harassed, beaten or arrested not Cubans?

The face of this country does not seem to resemble in the least the profile that is encompassed in the dilemmas and confusions that today afflict the authentic Communist militancy, nor the mask of unwavering intransigence with which they want to cover up the deep frustration and opportunism of those who applaud from commitment.

That the Communists are invited to participate in a national debate is a reasonable and fair proposal, but to pretend that decisions that affect the entire nation for the next five years are taken in a conclave where only they participate, is little more than an aberration.

The face of Cuba is more plural than the Party faithful.

However, Cubans learned long ago that when the river is roaring it is because it is carrying stones, but when you can’t hear it it’s doing the same. It’s been a long time since anyone has repeated from a podium or in a meeting with senior officials that plowing with oxen is better than doing it with farm machinery.

The thousand small tractors the US firm proposes to produce annually are optimal for use with organoponic cultivation methods and they suggest selling them to independent farmers in Cuba. The tractors will enter the market under the name Oggún, one of the main orishas of the Yoruba religion tied to technology and surgeons.

A rural legend, repeated by old already-retired tractor drivers, tells that at the end on the seventies in the San Juan y Martinez nursery area, a huge pit was dug to bury hundreds of destroyed tractors. Whole machines buried as scrap before handing them over to the peasants. State ownership “was ready to die” before making the transfer to the calloused hands of the private producers.

Time passed and the “Special Period” arrived and only then was the decision made to hand over whatever was unusable. Alfredo Perez, operator of a ’56 Ford belonging to La Isleña farm in Pinar del Río, who tells how this transfer worked. “As far as I know, in the nineties the state enterprises began giving the private farmers some farm machinery,” he says.

The farmer remembers that in most cases the tractors involved were in such poor condition, that in all the bureaucratic paperwork it appeared as the sale of decommissioned equipment, not property. From there it was up to the farmer to find a way to do what the state had failed to do despite all its resources, which is what they did. “They handed over a ghost that had to be resuscitated,” remembers Perez.

Despite the poor mechanical condition of the equipment, it was necessary to have an endorsement letter from the president of the cooperative and a commitment to lend the vehicle to whatever entity needed it , including the police.

The current practice is that when a state enterprise receives a new fleet of machinery, they hand over the old equipment to the cooperatives. Sometimes the machines are in terrible condition, other times in pretty good shape or even the company itself can help the cooperative get the parts to make it work.

Another way to acquire a tractor is to have the great good fortune to know the owner of a piece of American-made equipment that they want to sell. The Soviets awarded by another system what they weren’t allowed to market. The price of these “agricultural almendrones*” could vary between 100,000 to 150,000 Cuban pesos, depending on their condition and the farm implements included.

Alfredo only knows one farmer to whom they sold “ten years ago, a new tractor, and it was Alejandro Robaina,” the famous tobacco farmer of Vueltabajo. The farmer has some reservations and wonders if “the Americans” are going to distribute through the state or market them freely.

With the wisdom of a man of the countryside who knows that nothing is certain until the harvest is gathered in, Alfredo knows that tying the tractors to Oggeun is very premature, “because it is not even confirmed that they will build the factory,” and “only time will tell.”

Increasing food production is a priority for the State, so as to be able to replace imports and meet demand. The shortages and consequent rise in prices generate controversies of every kind, but there is something everyone agrees on: the solution is to produce more and for this, willpower isn’t enough, tools are needed. The farmers need better resources and marketing tractors puts to the test the old governmental prejudices: the Cuban countryside, stuck in the 20^th Century, is facing the modernity it needs.

*Translator’s note: “Almendrones” (from the word for almond) is what Cubans call the pre-Revolution American cars still circulating in Cuba.

During a press conference, Tania Valezquez, ETECSA’s direction of sales and marketing, repeated that they are doing nothing “to arbitrarily lower prices… (without) the infrastructure to support and respond to the increase in demand that would occur.” An affirmation that raises the question, “And what have you done with all the money you’ve earned over the last decades?”

The confessions of this functionary make it clear that the “principles” that the government appeals to when they ask private sellers to lower the prices of farm products, do not apply in the case of phone service. If the state company does not have the real capacity to improve the levels of traffic, it regulates consumption through high prices.

What the functionary did not say, or was not allowed to say, is that this service is not intended to benefit workers who earn 500 Cuban pesos (CUP) a month, because they would have to spend a quarter of their monthly salary — a full week’s wages — to buy the cheapest recharge card.

Nevertheless, the number of cellphone customers in Cuba is increasing, with more than three million mobile lines in service at the end of 2015, tangible proof that the amount of money in the hands of the citizenry is not directly tied to the system of wages. But ETECSA just can’t understand that these are customers, not beneficiaries of a giveaway, who complain that they do not receive a quality of service that corresponds to the high rates they are paying for it.

It is time for the country’s only telephone company to set aside the contradictory discourse of presenting itself as a company that is doing a great favor to Cubans by installing a dozen Wifi zones across the whole country. Its extortionate prices and its status as a monopoly place it squarely  the worst of savage capitalists that the Cuban authorities claim to abominate.

Prisoners of conscience who have passed through this facility say that what works best there are the prisoners’ councils, made up of common criminals, organized to beat and attack the “politicals” when ordered. Cubans who have tried to leave the country through the Naval Base are held there. It doesn’t matter what province they come from, with rare exceptions they end up there with a two to five year sentence for violating the border perimeter.

Another singularity of the place are the numerous incidents of self-harm that occur there. Some inmates who can’t stand the prison regime buy blood from fellow inmates with HIV to infect themselves. There is also every kind of self-mutilation.

In June 2007, a young man named Yosvani Correa Lafernal injected himself with excrement and died a week later of a widespread infection, without medical attention. Another Guantanamo inmate, known as Hannibal had to have both of his arms amputated after he injectd oil into his veins.

Many other cases have never been properly documented, nor have the hunger strikes, the beatings, the lack of medical care. No government authority has ever spoken about it, no official press has never mentioned this.

To the shame of all Cubans, that is Cuba’s Guantanamo prison.

In Cuba, those who go out to eat “on the street” know that they will need more money than they earn in a day’s work. There is no need to call out extreme examples of private or state restaurants where the average price for one person varies between 10 and 15 Cuban convertible pesos (about $11 to $17 U.S.), a figure that can double if the most expensive items on the menu are requested.

Among the most affordable options is food that is digested without even sitting down, which can be “bread with something” or a pizza costing ten Cuban pesos (about 40¢ US) that comes wrapped in paper and dripping with cheese. There are also the little cartons in Havana’s Chinatown where for 25 or 35 Cuban pesos you can “calm the dog,” meaning the stomach.

Other sites have managed to position themselves in a zone between the private and the state, like certain private restaurants attached to the agricultural markets. El Ranchón at the Youth Labor Army (EJT) market on Tulipan Street is a restaurant that enjoys a certain permissiveness and whose owner, as discussed in the neighborhood, is a member of the armed forces.

In places like this, of which there are very few in the city, they serve a plate with rice and beans, salad, mashed sweet potato and pork liver steak for 20 Cuban pesos. With the same sides, other options for the main course include roast pork, lamb fricassee or fried chicken, but the price never exceeds 40 Cuban pesos, even if fruit juice is included. There are no flowers or candles on the table and you have to cut the meat with a spoon, because there are no knives, but it’s good.

On the periphery of Ranchón are two government ministries, three banks, a high school and three military units, in addition to the thousands of customers who visit the busy market daily. A very old man with an enormous appetite asks for the leftovers every day. He hides so they don’t see him. He must be over 80 and he says that in his youth he could get “a full meal” for 25 centavos anywhere, “with beef: shredded, steak, or ground.”

Now that workplace cafeterias have almost disappeared, many people bring their full meal in a plastic bag and others who have chosen to eat just one meal a day, that they eagerly devour when they get home.

Jose Antonio Fornaris, APLP president, told 14ymedio that at present the organization is focused on “learning of and denouncing the problems of Cuban journalists in the exercise of their profession.” The most common difficulties range from arrests, the confiscation of working tools, and the little access to sources.

Freedom House, based in Washington, reported last year that Cuba remains, both regionally and globally, one of the countries with the greatest restrictions on the press. The organization denounced the fact that many Cuban journalists continue to be imprisoned and that official censorship is “widespread.” The island ranks last in Latin America with regards to press freedom.

The Cuban Constitution states that “citizens have freedom of speech and of the press in accordance with the objectives of socialist society,” but the editorial line of the national media is governed by the Department of Revolutionary Orientation (DOR), an arm of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of Cuba.

Many professionals, both in the independent sphere as well as those closest to the ruling party, have pushed in recent years for a press law. This legislation would regulate the activities of journalists and, in particular, force institutions to provide information of national interest in a public and transparent way.

Without this legal basis, the work of a reporter in Cuba will continue to move between self-censorship and danger, as APLP finds every day, when working to ensure that “in each province there are observers who are aware of the problems faced by information professionals.” Undoubtedly, these activists for press freedom have a great deal of work to do to collect every violation against the profession.

It is not enough, therefore, that a group of reporters, such as the APLP, are willing to raise their voices for others. “The ideal is for someone who has been harmed to approach us and report their case,” says Fornaris, a first step in order to then get “the corresponding verifications,” and “to provide assistance to the victim,” he adds.

Last October, during the 71^st General Assembly of the Inter American Press Association (IAPA), a devastating report on Cuba was presented in which it is stated that human rights and freedom of the press are violated “absolutely and systematically” with the State “monopolizing” the media.

The small team that makes up this NGO tries to optimize its time. Miriam Herrera is responsible for the committee that attends to the journalists, while Migiuel Saludes, located in the United States, serves as the representative abroad; each one of the seven members of the board is responsible for an area of the NGO’s work.

In the APLP “we don’t have lifetime tenure,” says Fornaris. He says it with a pained smile in a country where there have not been democratic elections for seven decades. It is very important for the organization to break with this fatal flaw, and “this year we are renewing the mandates.” The president sees it clearly, “It would be unacceptable for us to call for democracy in Cuba and to have a dynasty in our ranks.”

His hope of a new morning of greater freedoms does not blind him to the present. “As long as the press doesn’t point the finger at who is responsible for its faults, nothing happens,” Fornaris concludes with determination. He does not believe that “under the rules of this system monopolized by a single party can one expect substantial change.”

However, what is not in doubt is that “the press must be free, otherwise it can’t be called the press.”