Category: Translator: Espirituana

Granma, Granma, Granma… Fidel Castro Díaz Balart, oldest son of the former Cuban president, was the featured subject of the eighth and last page of the national newspaper Granma, which in turn – for those who do not know it – is the official press and propaganda organ of the Communist Party of Cuba, the only political organization allowed in my country. Rather than an interview, it seems to be a promotional piece. It happens that the descendants of the historical Cuban leaders are extraordinarily gifted and it is only natural that some domestic and foreign media workers pursue them like paparazzi of the high-and-mighty political show business, of the national fiefdom.

The journalistic piece, consisting of only three questions and genetically long answers, dealt with the most importanthobby and recent occupational profile of the first-born: nanotechnology. After he and his father put Cuba, our western hemisphere and the world in danger with the grandiose construction of the Juraguá nuclear plant, whose Soviet technology was outdated and was patented with the Chernobyl disaster, daddy’s boy was named scientific advisor to the Council of State. That whole matter was buried in a convenient oblivion, in the intimidating silence of the threatening upright index finger over the lips of freedom of information.

While for decades Cuban families were deniedcement to repair, remodel or enlarge their living quarters, in Jaraguá buildings were constructed that are nowvacant, like monuments to the rule of the caudillo, the disaster in decision-making, and the lack of well-developed and agreed-upon projects and planning. No one demanded an accounting for the dictator’s folly, and theghost town stands there as a tribute to the government’s irresponsibility and indolence.

In Granma’s text, it wasstated that the project of building the Cuban Center for Advanced Studies is already under way. The project, according to Castro Díaz-Balart himself, was conceived taking into account the opinions “and recommendations of a group of leaders belonging to the Scientific Area, the University of Havana, and the Ministry of Science, Technology and the Environment”. Who will direct it? It seems to me that the old childhood “camps” of the heir, with the passage of time and the adulation lavished by the royal sycophants, turned into an insatiable voracity for a “principality” in which he can playact being his own father, until “a physical absence” and the consent of the royal power take him to the position to which perhaps he feels entitled.

In this country, which has been leeched of the resources it had andput intodebt to the point of systemic osteoporosis, they afford themselves the luxury ofdeveloping constructive projects for Castro Jr. with a rigor that — according to them — competes with that of any developed country.

The descendants have taken to “establishing a rivalry” — among family, among siblings? — of being at center stage, and they appear in the media, without distinction and for different reasons, always justifiable. Of Fidel’s children, Fidelito is the most notable scientist in Cuba; Alex, the best photographer; and Antonio, the best physician. Of Raúl’s children, Mariela, the best psychologist; Alejandro, the most prominent high officer; and the grandson, the best personal security guard.

And if there is no milk for children over seven years old? For that they blame the United States and its embargo, to continue tofree them from blame for their ineptness before their officials and cadres. After all, they don’t have any problems that cannot be solved by being identified by their surname, rank or position, with a telephone call or by showing an ID, which are the permanent credentials allowing them to enjoy incalculable privileges.

No one knows any more if this shamelessness is an ode inviting the masses to greater apathy or if it is a constant call to emigrate. What everyone does intuit is that with that brood of well-off and — by “their own merits” — well-placed heirs, Cuba’s problems will never be solved.

Translated by: Espirituana

September 26 2012

Since Raul Castro announced that they would go back to blending chicory into the coffee they sell us through our ration cards and in local currency, I took up this topic; but the repulsiveness of the product they shipped from warehouses which results in a brew that is neither coffee nor porridge, motivated me to consider it one more time.

It is true that many have referred to this product, with its comic luggage from the fiasco – as happens in almost all categories – that was the significance of the announcement. Along came the “black nectar” with its powdered ammunition to reinforce what we already knew from experience: that they improved the brewing experience, but also reduced it, and hence now we have to serve it in a “tiny container”. But nobody swallows the pill that comes as with a perfume; on the contrary. We no longer offer visitors the luxury of a cup of that aromatic grain we used to have, but instead we save it for people who are not always welcome.

With the new despicable potable, they changed even the act of drinking this elixir and introduced an inelegant rite in the form of using both hands to drink it: one to hold the cup and the other to pinch our nose so the sip is less disagreeable. If you are feeling in need of a pickup and consider you need a stimulant such as caffeine, I advise you to try an alternative or some other kind of coffee, because that which we obtain with our ration coupons can cause stomach influences that will confine you to the restroom, and maybe chicoryflour is not the invigorator you need. Recently I advised a friend who wanted to annoy an adversary that constantly threw barbs against him in front of the group, that he make him a present of a package of ration coffee in front of all. It was in this way – and this is not a tall tale – that the problem was ended.

Something quite different happens when you have the money to pay for a package of the good stuff – if its available – in those establishments that sell in exchange for convertible currency. It’s been more than a week since the ground fruit-seed is absent from what should be honestly called the “hard currency collection centers” and other such establishments. There is a rumor in Havana that, as a result of the audits being conducted by the government to the younger of the Castros, 6 tons of the product was found missing at Cuban roasters, and that because of the investigative process, coffee has become absent from the store windows of those places that deal in hard currency.

If you visit these days the home of somebody with economic solvency it is possible that, against their wishes, they cannot share with you a sip of the infusion because of the current deficit. In my case, if I visit the home of humble persons and they offer me a cup, I will hurriedly drink it, even if the developing nausea brings tears to my eyes, I will pretend I liked it and thank them with alacrity. But since the old and hospitable “grass” has been converted indirectly into a measure of a host’s esteem, once the coffee supply is stabilized and I visit the home of others who have “good money” and they invite me to a cup of this potage or almost coffee, I will know what awaits me.

Translated by: lapizcero

September 20 2011

It seems that an anti-kissing and anti-closeness strategy has been in place for some days in Havana: toothpaste went missing. The humble consumer who micromanages the pennies in strong currencies obtained from his meager worker’s incentive or received from relatives who have emigrated – workers exploited by capitalism who plan their vacations, travel and invest around the world without permission, and in spite of that financially help their oppressed loved ones in the Cuban paradise – mostly buys strictly the basic goods in the markets that sell in foreign currencies.

But in Cuba we are vulnerable to the dictatorship of anti-consumerism and prey of the State oligopoly, since when they want to get rid of a Cuban product that no one buys, they stop stocking the foreign alternative so that we will be forced to buy the domestic one, which is almost always of poor quality and with a minimal price difference. That is, they substitute domestic products for the imports, mocking the rights of the buyers, whose ability to choose they arbitrarily limit imposing a lack of options: take it or take it! No alternatives. They choose the shortest and most dishonest route instead of working to ensure the excellence of the domestic products.

The State controls all trade and, in a way that is inefficient and unfair to society, prevents competition from the private sector in those businesses. They do not allow the private citizen to set up a store, nor offer what he produces in one of the many State chain stores. So, whether it’s bad or mediocre, we must be satisfied with whatever the State offers, and furthermore reward them with a smile.

After several days using numerous water-and-salt rinses, this September 22nd the citizens of Havana were pleasantly surprised with a domestic toothpaste of the “Sonríe” (Smile) brand. That state-manufactured concoction with scant menthol is not acquired through workers’ merit, volunteer work, diplomas or passwords, but with strong Cuban pasta [money]: the CUC [Cuban convertible currency]. They charge 90 cents for it, which is equivalent to 22 pesos in national currency. As is natural, there will surely be people who will continue gargling in order to be able to smile without having foul-smelling dragon’s breath. When times are bad, put on a happy face, and if you have bad breath – no options – use Cuban toothpaste.

Translated by: Espirituana

September 28 2011