Category: Ivan Garcia

Will the Prisons be Filled Again? / Iván García

It is a likely probability.  It is known that the Castros are unpredictable.  At times, they attempt to behave like brothers respectful of international norms.  The truth is the rules of democracy and human rights agreements are instruments against which the government in Havana holds grudges.

The three-way negotiations between General Raul Castro with the Cuban Catholic Church, Spanish Foreign Minister Miguel Ángel Moratinos and a left-wing branch of Barack Obama’s administration, which culminated in the agreement to release the 52 prisoners of conscience from la primavera negra del 2003 (the black Spring of 2003) and promises to reach out to more political prisoners on the island, could become a sterile gesture.

Since Castro II’s speech on the 1st of August, alarms were set off in the Cuban Secret Services.  The General did a 360 degree turn on the alleged easing of tensions and sent a return message to the disidencia del patio (courtyard dissidents).

He said it clearly.  Do not confuse tolerance with impunity. The street belongs to the revolutionaries.  We know what that means.  Beatings by the “pueblo indignado” (incensed citizens), acts of repudiation and thorough verbal lynchings to those who oppose the regime.

State Security took note and began work to gather the necessary pieces in the best way it knows how: repression. On the 5th of August, a date on which the sixteenth anniversary of the maleconazo* is commemorated, the political police conducted an extensive operation against dissidents and independent journalists who that day went to the United States Interests Section to surf the Internet.

Dozens of opponents where detained for up to 12 hours.  All detainees were warned that there would be no impunity.  As part of the strategy, citations and warnings have been issued to independent journalists in different provinces.

Reina Luisa Tamayo suffers fierce harassment at her home in Banes, Holguín, 700 kilometers (approximately 435 miles) from Havana.  They were not satisfied that Reina had lost her son, Orlando Zapata Tamayo, after an 86 day hunger strike, last February 23rd.

She is the Lady in White who has been treated most rudely by the political police.  They have not respected her pain as a mother nor have they allowed her to mourn as she is entitled to do.

The question that many ask today is what was the reason to unleash such a raid.  It could be that the government expects more from the European Union and from the United States.  Or, that the release of a handful of prisoners was only a measure to obtain political breathing room and some international credibility.

I have no doubt that there are factions in power with different opinions.  At this moment different springs are moving within the status quo.  He who manages to impose himself will dictate the rules of the game.

If the ‘talibanes’ (Taliban) succeed, the historic hard-line revolutionaries, we will return to the past.  Beware of economic measures and of the iron fist with dissidents.  We will have to wait.

Yet something is certain.  The hasty negotiations of Castro II, the church and Moratinos, left behind some rough edges.  What is important, without a doubt, was the promise to release 52 political prisoners who should have never been in jail.

But apparently neither Cardinal Ortega nor the Spanish Foreign Minister could get General Raul to promise to never again incarcerate someone because of their opinion.  Also not on the agenda, was the abolition of the dark Law 88, which continues to float around the air of the Republic.  With the strike of a gavel, it allows any prosecutor to put a dissident behind bars for 20 years or more.

The Castros may have decided to start playing hard and without gloves again.  A sector of the opposition knows it.  It asks itself if there will be new black summers, winters, autumns or springs.

In 51 years of revolution, prisons have always been full of political prisoners.  They are valuable bargaining chips.  If the regime wants, they could empty them.  Also if it wants, it could fill them once again.

Iván García

*Translator’s note: The Malaconazo was a riot that broke out on the Malecon, Havana’s seawall and waterfront arterial.

Translated by: Antonio Trujillo

August 22, 2010

Welcome to the Island of Rum! / Iván García


Drinking alcohol is one of the passions of the average Cuban. A true national sport. Next to baseball, sex, playing dominoes, and leaving the country.

Drinking rum or beer is known in Cuba as “bending the elbow.” Or “sucking the rat’s tail.” There are various groups of drinkers. There are hard and fast alcoholics. Those whose only thought is one liter of rum.

Really, “rum” is a euphemism for what they drink. They usually ingest a kerosene distilled from molasses and charcoal in a miserable still. So it is with Pedro Marín, 56, whose only aim in life is to drink.

When he gets up at seven in the morning, he rinses his mouth with a swig of bitter 90-proof alcohol. Then he goes to carry sacks of flour in a bakery, taking along a plastic bottle full of homemade rum, with an unbearable smell, known as “Superman.”

“The guy who can take a shot of Superman without doubling over is one of us,” said Marín, a black man with few teeth and bloodshot eyes, wearing old patched clothes.

These kinds of curdas (drinkers in Cuban slang) do not read the press or care what’s happening in Cuba or in the world. Nor are they interested in their wives or husbands, if they have any, or their children and family. Every penny that goes into their pockets is invested in one liter of distilled alcohol.

They are sick men and women. Rosa Aparicio, 65, is a grimy old woman who sleeps in the doorways of any street and gets in tremendous fights every time she goes drinking.

Most of these habitual drunks do not receive specialized medical care. They don’t want it. In the interior of the country, the situation is as bad or worse than it is in the capital.

The independent journalist Osmany Borroto, of Sancti Spiritus, reported the death of Omar Ulloa, a neighbor in Jatibonico, after he had drunk a moonshine known as White Horse, produced in central Uruguay, widely consumed because of its low cost.

But there are also social drinkers on the island, who drink regularly and don’t lose their composure. They usually have good contacts and buy good-quality imported or domestic beer. And rum or whiskey purchased with convertible pesos.

But they are in the minority. Most people drink to ward off the daily anxieties. We already know what they are: the lack of a future and the great national problem – putting two hot meals on the table every day.

They also drink to try to scare away ghosts and fears. They do not know how they will get money to take their children out on the town during the holidays. Or buy them clothes, shoes, and a backpack for the next school year.

The accumulation of problems makes them take the easy way out. Bend the elbow. “There was not enough money to repair the house, buy a car, or celebrate my daughter’s fifteenth birthday. So I don’t stress out, and when I can, I take four drinks,” says Mario Echemendía, 40 years.

“Four drinks” in Cuba means sitting with friends at a neighborhood street corner or in a dive bar, to drink cheap, mass-produced rum or beer.

The government provides a great distraction to the passion of the Cuban by means of alcoholic beverages. Every event ends with a beer truck and a kiosk for selling cheap rum.

The philosophy of the Cuban drunk can be read on posters hung in run-down taverns: “He who drinks, gets drunk. He who gets drunk, falls asleep. He who sleeps does not sin. He who does not sin goes to heaven. If you want to go to heaven . . . DRINK!”

On the island many things may be missing, but there will always be a rum drink or a glass of beer available. If you are creditworthy, you’ll drink first-rate. And if your name is Pedro Marín, ingest diabolical concoctions. This is the final step of an alcoholic. A true Hell.

Iván García

August 18 2010

Prison Rats / Iván García

The first time Valentín set foot in a jail, he was fifteen years old. Up and down the narrow streets of Old Havana, together with a group of delinquents, he set out to steal the purses or video cameras of the unsuspecting tourists.

“I was sent to a youth reform center in 1996. From that point on, prison has been my home. I’ve spent 12 of the last 14 years behind the bars of a cell,” Valentín recounts to me during one of his brief stints of liberty.

When he entered the slammer for the first time, he was young, black, thin, and with a full head of hair. In 2010, I see in front of me a bald man who lacks many teeth, with two cuts on his neck from some sharp object, and with a face and physical make-up that would inspire fear.

“In jail, I have had more than one problem. The treatment of common criminals by the guards is violent and humiliating. We are non-persons. The Cuban jails are a jungle. Only the strong survive,” he points out, as he drinks a vile beer at an improvised bar.

When Valentín is free, he returns to his old adventures. He is a first-class anti-social. His way of life is to rob or swindle the unwary. He knows nothing else.

“I do not see myself living on a miserable salary. I like weed and rum, white women, and to dress well. My way of obtaining all that is stealing. For me, there’s no other way,” he said, without pretense.

Eighty-eight percent of the common (non-political) prisoners in Cuba are black or mestizo. These two groups make up 50% of the population of the entire island. In general, they have the hardest lives. Their families are madhouses. Violent crimes are usually committed by blacks.

The Martell brothers are also black. Two boys who speak rapid-fire slang. From age 13, their lives have been one transgression after another.

Six months ago, they were on the street. And now they’re next in line to visit prison. “We’re awaiting a hearing, where the prosecutor is asking for 12 years,” they tell me, in an almost jocular way. They add, “Our partners in jail are already saving us a bunk.” To be prisoners is the natural state of being for the Martell brothers.

The worst part is that in Havana, young black, marginalized youth, who believe themselves to be tough, abound. They are prison rats. Roberto Dueñas, age 22, has been in jail for 7 years. He carries a sentence of 43 years. He entered for a minor infraction with a sentence of 3 years.

But once in the system, he killed a couple of inmates, choking them with his own hands. And one afternoon in 2009, together with a group of prisoners, he rioted, trying to take over the jail located in the outskirts of the province of Camaguey, 600 kilometers from the capital.

If, one day, Dueñas gets out of jail, he’ll be 58-years-old. Without a wife or family. In a letter he mailed to a friend, full of spelling errors and in childish handwriting, he confessed that he does not regret it.

“Here in the tank (jail), what matters is force, to earn respect and the benefits that make life more bearable. If my life is to die in jail, so be it. I will never permit another man to be above me. The only person above me is God,” wrote Dueñas to his friend.

The government of the Castro brothers has never offered data on the number of common prisoners on the island. Nor on the number of jails. The environment in which these youths grow up is fertile ground for delinquency.

The worst part isn’t the silence. Rather, that the Cuban State doesn’t have a solution for the problem of a society that grows more unstable and violent.

Ivan Garcia

Translated by: Gregorio

August 17, 2010

The Return of Castro I / Iván García

One week before turning 84-years-old, and after one month of public appearances, Cubans were not surprised with his appearance before the National Assembly of Popular Power, in an extraordinary session that he himself called and that, in addition to the mass of deputies, was attended by his brother the president, General Raul Castro.

As his health recovered, people accustomed themselves to seeing him in photos and videos. First as a host with diverse guests, then as a visitor himself.

The population had already gotten used to his absence. And was grateful for it too, because television programs were no longer affected by some appearance or a long speech.

Now, in seeing him again before the parliament with an olive-green shirt, the same one worn on two previous occasions, a mix of fear and uncertainty has assaulted people. “It frightens me to think that he has recovered enough that every now and then we once again hear him speak,” comments Jose Luis, 51, a construction worker.

Elvira, 45, a primary school teacher, does not believe that Fidel will return to the political arena. “At least not like before, even though he still maintains an important position, First Secretary of the Party.”

These worries arise among older citizens. Meanwhile, the older they are, the more convinced they are that “the Maximum Leader has not only returned to the national political realm, but also to the international realm,” emphasizes Mario, 66, retired.

The ones who lose no sleep over his return, temporary or definitive, are the youth. To them, who had practically forgotten his voice and his gestures, what has called their attention is his “look.”

Yendri, 25, chef, saves various photos of ‘El Comandante‘ with Adidas, Nike, and Puma active wear, among other famous brands. “If only I had a collection like that,” he confesses.

On the streets, opinions are divided with respect to his clothing, which evokes laughter among some. In private, of course. “Sometimes, he wears a very bad combination and when they focus on his feet, he’s wearing outdated tennis shoes,” says Javier, 32, unemployed.

What everyone can agree on, young and old alike, is that no one in Cuba with the sense that God gave a mule is paying any attention to his latest rant: that of impending nuclear war and catastrophe.

Some account for this by saying that during his period of convalescence he read books about the end of the world and watched films like 2012. I personally believe that Fidel Castro is not interested in those subjects. These are just a pretext so as to retake the role of protagonist that he was obligated to leave when he was on the brink of death four years ago.

Iván García

Photo: EPA

August 11 2010

Waiting to be Evicted by Force / Iván García

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Iván García

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

Translated by: Gregorio

August 15, 2010

And Presenting the Names of Some Cubans / Iván García

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Iván García

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

Translated by: CIMF

August 16, 2010

Raul Castro, On the Fence / Iván García

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Iván García

Photo: AFP

August 8, 2010

Thanks For Your Comments / Iván García

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

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

Sincerely,

Iván García Quintero

Translated by: CIMF

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ivan Garcia

Translated by Raul G.

August 10, 2010

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ivan Garcia

Photo: EPA

Translated by Raul G.

August 8, 2010

Official Citation / Iván García

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Iván García

August 8, 2010

The Power of a Symbol


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ivan Garcia

Translated by Raul G.

August 5 2010

Summer Vacations, Always Looking to the Sea / Iván García

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ivan Garcia

Photo: surfcrest, Flickr

Translated by Raul G.

August 2, 2010

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Iván García

Translated by: CIMF

August 3 2010

The Castros, Each One on His Own Side

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Iván García