Category: Juan Juan Almeida

Historical data show that long before Colombus, America had already been discovered.  Leif Eriksson, son of Erik the Red, was a Viking explorer who in the year 1003 managed to arrive at a land that he baptized as “Viland” and which, according to his description and remnants found, could be Newfoundland.

Zheng He, the famous Chinese military man, according to his travel log, between 1405 and 1433 touched the coasts of the American continent on several occasions.  Khashkhash Ibn Saeed Ibn Aswad was a Muslim sailor who crossed the Atlantic Ocean and returned to Europe with evidence of his trip in the year 889.  We are also familiar with the legend of Hui Shum, a Buddhist monk who by around the year 485 was preaching on the Yucatan Peninsula.

The Hindus speak of Votan, a mythological navigator who lived among the ancient Mayans. The presence of kumara on the Cook Islands, a native American plant, very similar to yams, has been cited as evidence that the native Americans could have come to Oceania. And as if that were not enough, recent scientific studies document the discovery of cocaine and American nicotine remnants in the bodies of Egyptian mummies.

Nevertheless, and in spite of this information, 12 October 1492, continues marking the history books.  Sometimes, with insistent repetition, we waste time searching for a day, or a dated event, in order to build a greater uproar than that caused by the arrival of a late train at the station.

The same thing happens to us Cubans.  There are more than a few enthusiasts trapped in the tricks of the almanac: they agree that if we had not had a 10 October 1868, our story would not have gotten to a 10 February 1878, a 24 February 1895, nor a 20 May 1902; nor would we have suffered a 10 March 1952, a 26 July 1953, a 13 March 1957, and much less a 1 January 1959.

Personally I think that the mentioned events occurred just as we know them today.

But history aside, and much in spite of those who only look back with the respectable, repeated and less boring eagerness of constantly theorizing in order to try to straighten out a world that already is not round, today looms the moment of being able easily to predict what the Cuban government has parceled out and designed for us as a future, that which is called “reforms.”

The question is, “Where are we going?”  The answer: next December 2, when the military promotions are made known, and with whether or not Colonel Alejandro Castro Espin will rise to General or not.

A promotion that, on one hand, could create discontent and division in the military hierarchy; and, on the other, reveal to us if the so-called “measures for updating of the model” is the road towards the aftermath of the so-called Castro era, if there are openings that lead towards a (militarized) social democracy where they go on imposing little by little on the liberties of each individual or if there have only been subtle maneuvers directed at the reshuffling of the State structure which only guarantees a succession in which Cuban power passes from hand to hand, from Castro to Castro.

Each country’s government has the right to design its peoples’ tomorrow; in the same way, the people have the legitimate right to accept the future scheme or to reject it.

Translated by mlk

6 November 2013

As part of the commemoration of the 500th anniversary of the discovery of the South Sea (Pacific Ocean) by Spanish explorer and conquistador Vasco Núñez de Balboa, the leaders of 22 Latin America countries plus Spain, Portugal and Andorra gathered in Panama October 18-19.

They held, there, the XXIII Iberoamerican Summit, for this occasion, taking as the central theme “The political, economic, social and cultural role of the Iberoamerican Community in a new global context,” with a primary interest in the desire to re-evaluate this inclusive meeting and, as a marvelous irony, a substantial number of absences.

His Majesty King Juan Carlos did not attend, he is recovering from a recent hip operation. However, in the ultimate gesture of respect and elegance, worthy of royal protocol, he addressed the audience by a video message that was viewed in the opening session.

Nor did the President of Argentina, the lady Cristina Fernández de Kirchner come to the great event , she was also recovering from surgery a few days earlier to remove a hematoma from her skull, and now must keep what he doctors call “strict bedrest.”

What is peculiar is that, in a defiant and obviously premeditated act to reduce the  reputation of and tarnish the event, also absent were the illustrious leaders of the Bolivarian axis. A reaction expected and typical from unenlightened people.

It is not a blessed coincidence that in the digital version of the Sunday edition of Gramna they published, and I quote, ” It is symptomatic, for example, that from the South American region only two leaders attended, Colombia’s Juan Manuel Santos and from Paragua, Horacio Cartes , while no one attended from the Bolivarian Alliance for the Peoples of Our America (ALBA).”

It is rational to expect this manner of behavior from the members of ALBA. Boycotting the event is nothing more than a show of force to promote the culture of fragmentation and also to show their disagreement as a bloc with the fact that Costa Rica and Panama are about to enter the newly proposed Latin American alliance in which Peru, Chile, Colombia and Mexico merge their economies and define joint actions to develop Asia-Pacific ties based solely on respect for bilateral trade.

For this, and other reasons, none of the leaders of the Bolivarian gang attended the meeting, rather, offering false internal commitments, they sent their representatives.

But on the case of Cuba, General Raul Castro, knowing ahead of time that the first document to be signed refers to counteracting, jointly, the application of unilateral measures that violate the principles of international rights and that could affect regional peace and international security, decided to send a special emissary in his place (the CEO of “who knows”) who, judging by his aspect, behavior and dress, it’s easy to come to the conclusion that he’s the director of “Whatchamacallit,” a grand prize winner for business excellence, in the vanguard producing breaded croquettes made out of God-knows-what, or the administrator of those FAR (Revolutionary Armed Forces) homemade schemes to exceed their planned sales of crates of festering fruits, rotted roots and wilted vegetables.

Who could expect more, after the resounding success of the Chong Chon Gang  carrier ship, the sweetened armaments and the diabetic crew.

22 October 2013

The government in Havana, as a transformative method to fight the alarming reality of the times, visibly marked by social deterioration, goes all out and launches a highly publicized campaign to restore lost civic norms and restructure popular morality through the force of laws imposed, articulating expectations and establishing rules. It’s as absurd as an athlete trying to cross the finish line and getting tangled up in the tape.

They say their new battle is against vulgarity, marginalization and coarse behavior. Conduct that we mustn’t forget, without looking for who’s to blame, because in reality the times deserve solutions; they were brought about by the young rebels, the outlaw troops arriving in 1959, who implanted disrespect as the order of the day, Liquidating our traditions and ending up destroying everything.

The Revolution was imposed as a factor of civilization. Then, belief in a God not wearing olive-green, using a napkin, toilet paper, and phrases such as “excuse me, please, and thank you,” were customs that were criticized because they were considered petit bourgeoisie relics. It was established and became the custom to address others informally, and thus, at a stroke of a pen, respect and courtesy were erased.

That monster was born, raised and trained in the arts of mimicry and camouflage. Now they want to show the superiority of some sectors which, knowingly or not, coexisted and coexist on the margins of morality, and like  part of an emancipating Utopia they created an apology for the skilled criminal who is respected much more than a scientist, a teacher, a soldier, a doctor, a construction worker, a housewife, a farmer or an artist.

The phenomenon entailed — in addition to a great spiritual stench — absolute popular saturation before the official rhetoric of the bright tomorrow, the political mythology and a morality that were assumed as a forced behavior. The few who didn’t accept it revealed themselves in a subtle and silent way.

Those of us who to the schools in the countryside learned that the onset of puberty in females was a source of hallway gossip and jokes. A girl’s first menstruation used to be a private thing. Modesty became a devalued noun. So it is not surprising that those same little girls now push their daughters into the arms of tourists, and see sex as currency

We are concerned about the disturbing social pandemic , which is nothing more than the result of that awful “idyll.” But the whip is not a solution, nor is giving more power by decree to the repressive organs of State Security and the National Police.

Social indiscipline is a serious issue that involves us al , we must act together without fear to find the causes that gave rise to this dangerous form of questioning power and end the collective self-laceration as a means of escape.

The so-called Revolution is collapsing; how sad and tragic that it is falling on us. A terrible metaphor describing the national reality.

15 October 2013

To the President of the Councils of State and Ministers of the Republic of Cuba, the words freedom, prosperity, love and family are plain and simple “persuasion” that, when it comes time for manipulation and pressure, have more of an effect than fear. He didn’t lie last Friday when, in feverish runaway of egotism and pride, he publicly revealed during one of the plenary sessions about the recent closure of the Eighth Congress of the Committees for the Defense of the Revolution (CDR), “We must change the methods of struggle, but not the combat.”

Developing objective. The law has allowed it; and his immorality facilitates it.

With the rise of self-employment, the General has managed to entertain the illusion that some sectors traditionally repressive and, in a parallel way, has managed to gain the appreciation of some who, with money (ill-gotten or not) today see the chance to feel and present themselves as successful businessmen.

Changing the immigration law was a smart move, and internationally applauded. By itself, it alleviates state inefficiency, opens the social valve opens and results in good income. And along with the new form of repression, more surgical, that no longer seeks to imprison but rather to crush the internal opposition and civil society to the point of exhaustion, it has become an essential weapon, Because following a simple logic, the most notable figures in the opposition, on traveling and comparing, will relocate outside or keep on traveling until they disappear from the national scene.

Some unwittingly, and others very reluctantly, are transmuted into spokespersons  in a well-calculated government move that shows a false but convincing transformed vision of this “Raulista” Revolution which, in order to gain territory as part of the same combat using different methods; instead of sending soldiers, today it signs business and/or bilateral cooperation agreements with various countries in the world, where it then sends a very opportunistic invasion of Cuban doctors who, with admirable sacrifice and laughably remuneration, take on the noble labor of returning smiles to those who lost the teeth.

In short, like I was taught one day by my late grandmother Rosario, who could not write but was very successful with pithy sayings, “Beware of those who always boast of wearing a cross on their chest, because they carry the devil in what they do.”

Personally I think that, lacking an element of surprise, the only thing capable of robbing the slant-eyed pro-Russian President of Cuba of his dream, is the regional situation. To wit, Venezuela, for fuel; and the convenient peace talks between the FARC and the Colombian government in Havana, in temporary recess, which should continue as of October 3rd.

The General, like any military strategist, knows that the more prolonged these dialogs are, the smaller the maneuvering room for the Colombian government to negotiate. And, if the FARC guerrilla group is converted into a political force capable of participating in presidential elections, by diving “magic” it could win and change the balance of forces on a regional map extending the influence of Cuba in the area.

Then, what they once did with weapons, they could solve with agreeable words, firm handshakes, and seductive female company. Trained and ready to dance and kiss. Actually, they are very effective methods, but nothing new.

1 October 2013

A day like yesterday, September 22, in the long ago 1927, in Chicago, Illinois, the most expensive boxing match in all of pre-television history was held. I do not know if it was luck or misfortune, but the historic match brought bettors more frustration than joy. At Soldiers Field stadium, before more than 10,000 fans of pugilism, the favorite Jack Dempsey lost his crown facing someone who was then virtually unknown, Gene Tunney.

Like everything in life is, boxing is fickle; how variable is the luck of those who bet on the challenger. I take advantage of the mention of this anniversary to acknowledge a slightly fraternal message with sentimental engagement that came for me a few days ago from Havana like a snack hidden in the mouth of a naive “office boy” who, through ambition (always commendable, by the way), is determined to live a dangerous experience that goes a little beyond the controllable.

Receiving the oral epistle, with its juxtaposed olive-green authoritarian tone, I respond. According to the Royal Spanish Academy, “treason” mean, and I quote the text from the dictionary: 1- fault that is committed breaking a fidelity or loyalty that should be kept; and 2 – (relative to the right), crime committed by civilian or military that threatens the security of the nation.

In none of its forms, taking into account that the RAE handles the Spanish language much better than I do, I take the hint.  However, I believe that the concept belongs to the devious and predictable transmitter, who to do something deep doesn’t find a better option but to practice scuba diving.

The absurd verbal communication, less extensive than a twitter and plagued with silly chatter uttered with contempt, says among other things that I write crap. Understandable, in Cuba to offend is habitual and as common as palms trees and clay pots (tinjones).  And, although I must admit that I liked it, it saddens me to know that a Cuban functionary, instead of working towards rebuilding the people’s trust and their sense of purpose, dedicates every Monday to reading this column and making a synopsis of it to send through direct channels to the presidential office.

Faced with such aberration, and with the sole objective of bringing my contribution to preventing the resources of the State being so dilapidated, I thought to write one paragraph less each week, but it’s not worth it.

From the epic fanfare so recurrent in the politics of the trench, and the excessive use of grotesque sexual imagery, we won’t even speak; they are merely spent and decadent resources that don’t catch my attention. Of course, many still haven’t understood that from the Iliad and the KamaSutra, nothing new has been written with regards to politics and sex.

The message made me sleepy; and the messenger gave me nightmares. From an early age I learned that in Power’s pack of hounds, those who remain silent, afraid, those who bark, lie, and the rest, they are just good people who make bad decisions.

By the way, speaking of cheap bravado, and of the ironies of history, coincidentally on a day like today, September 23, 1990, the Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein publicly threatened to destroy the State of Israel and you already know where and how it ended.

25 September 2013

I am happy and confident that at some point in the future, the world’s dictionaries will exclude some words, among them Ideology and Dictator. By then, most fortunately, no one will speak of Fidel, Hitler or Pinochet; and in the schools they will continue mentioning names like Beethoven and Mozart, fortunately art transcends, as do performers.

No wonder, although there are always people who strive to get our attention and try to manipulate us from one shore or the other using bombastic verbiage, dangerous pandemic ideas and/or extravagant dress, that it was a musician, Robertico Carcassés, who hit the home run in the middle of the Malecon, during a political event held at none other than the José Martí Anti-imperialistic bandstand in Havana, the social gateway, also known as the “Protestdrome,” a plaza erected facing the United States Interest Section in Cuba, where the Cuban government sends its frequent, soporific and boring missives, with which it tries to show a false political strength and/or popular cohesion.

It is clear that the young artist, famous for his talent and his magisterial way of interpreting the difficult art of musical improvisation, does not live divorced from reality and knows with certainty the significance of each and every one of the words he chanted.

And it’s not the hair that’s bad, it’s that the comb is no longer working.  Free access to information, the manipulation of public opinion, the electoral system, the “blockade,” the internal blockade and lack of rights, are issues that constantly weigh on Cuban homes. And also in Robertico’s home which, in addition, in his case, suffers like so many other Cubans the mark of family separation. One of his sons has lived for some time in Miami.

Consciously or not the scope of what he said in his catchy improvised interpretation, the truth was that he made an impression, and now the question is, what will happen.

Well, if we put the event in context, using our brains and not our hearts, it’s easy to know that nothing will happen to the artist.

In the Facebook profile of his group, Interactive, it is announced that he would not perform this past Saturday, day before yesterday, at Cafe Miramar, nor will he be in Havana in the Bertolt Brecht theater hall of Vedado this coming Wednesday.

Also posted was a note, but then it disappeared, saying that the members of the group had been summoned to a meeting at the Cuban Institute of Music, where they were informed that Roberto is “separated the sector” indefinitely. A word too ambiguous that to my mind means an eighth note, because I am sure that very soon Robertico will again play and enjoy national and international stages, but now more firmly because he has shown that he is not only a part of that large group of outstanding musicians within a generation of monsters, as Cubans always say, that feels committed only to playing a musical instrument, it is also of those cabinetmakers who can chisel ,in a piece of the national wood, the sculpture of a new social life.

17 September 2013

When my great grandfather was born, there was an Arab presence in Cuba.  It is impossible to exclude from national history the Lebanese Antonio Farah, who arrived on the Island in 1879 and achieved the position of city councilor in the local government of Pinar del Rio.  Likewise, there is an ample list of Syrians, Palestinians and inhabitants of the southeast zone of the Arabian peninsula in the Gulf of Persia (today the United Arab Emirates) who with the force of their bravery and talent rose to important positions in our Liberating Army.

And it is curious, because unlike many other groups of migrants, the arrival of the Arabs on the island had a very individual form, they did it in small groups that could freely choose their destiny.

All this, plus the enchanting stories depicting camels, turbans, sultans, deserts, castles with golden domes and thieves with thick eyebrows who with their sensual coffee looks made carpets fly, made the nationals offer them a Caribbean refuge.

For the current Cuban government, calculated by nature and pragmatic by necessity, Arab is synonymous with riches.  So it demonstrated a few days ago, when after carrying out a campaign last July in Qatar to attract investors, Havana paid respect and lent its newly bought fleet of Teutonic cars to a discrete group of multimillionaire Saracens who made landfall on the island in an airplane where all the unthinkable eccentricity escaped from fantasy and became reality.

A palace of luxury in the sky–that’s how the flying vessel was described by the workers of ECASA (Cuban Company of Airports and Aeronautical Services SA, the only company that operates within Cuban airports)–where an entourage of investors traveled showing off their opulence and, to flatter their vanity and by orders of the General, received special attention.  Explainable, power is a venom that carries the challenge of losing a lot to gain everything.

All options were made possible in an attempt to curry favor with a heap of petrodollars who seemed disposed to buy the world.  And the Cuban civil servants, determined to end their old autobiography of failures, during the negotiation avoided the debate of sovereignty and the familiar old tensions that constantly stimulate pyrotechnic politics between Cuba and the United States.

They saw the mine and they offered to let the visitors drill in favorable conditions in strategic sectors of the national economy; participate in the development of the metallurgic industry, invest in tourism, agriculture, medicine, education, and the financial system and banks of the nation; in the generation, transmission and supplying of energy; in transportation, in construction, in buying or running luxury hotel chains, exuberant marinas or even to make the island one enormous brothel.

I still haven’t discovered the reason behind so much genuflection; I only know that after the two full days of exhausting meetings described as “The thousand and one nights,” the Arabs decided to make it clear that they didn’t want to invest but simply to buy.  They paid in advanced an exaggerated sum, even though in reality not so fair, to acquire exclusive rights to the production of Cuban marble for a period of time.  Shortly after they said goodbye with a cold handshake and a smile, bland and insipid as a piece of bread without salt; an admirable form of saying, “Don’t even dream about it, Havana is no Beverly Hills.”

30 August 2013

I often ask myself why we do not take a moment and dispassionately take note of the indications and evidence that, starting at the top, the Cuban government is trying to design the post-Castro future for us.

Not long ago General Raúl Castro organized meetings throughout the country at the neighborhood level and at places of work. People were asked to discuss their problems  at these events without fear.

The sense of catharsis these provided was important. People discussed their problems, though without seeing them resolved, and the government bought itself some time. As a result commissions were set up and plans were laid down.

Raúl Castro is a military man who retains a Cold War mentality. Before adopting a strategy, he creates commissions and studies every situation in detail before moving forward. Every demonstrable problem has three separate commissions studying it.

All this compartmentalization means deserters, critics, dissidents and the new public faces on political scene can, therefore, act only as reporters. They cannot speak of governmental plans or the future without venturing into the dangerous territory of speculation and error.

Even Miguel Díaz-Canel — first vice-president of Cuba and the person who, according to the current constitution, succeeds the president in the event of the latter’s absence, illness or death — criticized the restraints on the press during an address to the recent Ninth Congress of the Cuban Union of Journalists, but avoided making any commitments to eliminating them.

Personally, I consider Miguel to be an honest man, but he is an official puppet who is not part of the inner power circle. Therefore, he is not privy to what will happen tomorrow, or even in the next fifteen minutes.

The results of the recent elections and the inclusion of new faces in the Cuban government do not represent a significant change. It is a feeble attempt to promote the false image of a transition, a simulation which aims simply to appear pluralistic. Cuban elections are controlled voting procedures designed to obtain public approval of hand-picked candidates and to place civilian marionettes in government posts.

Ah, but might these people’s thinking boomerang, turning them into tomorrow’s faces of change? I think so, but I do not believe for a moment that during the initial phases of the long-awaited post-Castro era these people are capable of moving the foundations of government, changing the character of the judicial system or altering the solid chain of command that currently exists among the power elite and the military.

I presume that in time the eventual passing of the so-called historic leaders will allow for the emergence of new group who, once in power, will be more disposed or will feel obliged to implement truly democratic reforms.

The self-employment initiative — notice they never call it entrepreneurship so as to distance it from capitalism — was a masterful stroke. It showed a convenient — I would add apparent — path to a market economy. It also created hope in a wide segment of the population which looked towards micro-businesses as a way up. With any luck it would allow these people to ascend from the micro to the small, and from the medium to the macro.

But let us not kid ourselves. This is all a myth. The Cuban micro-business economy is one of tiny shops and subsistence. Instead of a stimulus policy, entrepreneurship is hampered. Profits made by the self-employed do not lead to prosperity because they cannot be reinvested; they can only be used to plug holes.

But every rule has its exceptions. There are private businesses with parallel, presumably illegal entrances which — along with a dangerous but necessary moneyed class of entrepreneurs and intellectuals — are tolerated and used to give society a timely touch of success and prosperity.

It is a well thought-out plan for governing. Pretend conditions are good, confuse everyone, and continue down the path that increasingly concentrates rights in the hands of the state rather than promoting a state of rights.

Photo: President Raúl Castro with First Vice-President Miguel Díaz-Canel.

21 August 2013

I was born in the bosom of power, a world of abundant lies. I was reared and educated among the corrupt who, even as they pretended to be simple guardians of virtue, in certain private circles often forgot to guard their terrible secrets and told horrific stories with tremendous ease. This is how I heard in detail about those sentenced to death and their physical condition as they faced the firing squad. They described men who were drowsy, sweaty, weak, whose breathing was irregular and whose color was corpse-like.

At the time I did not realize and even questioned how much the terror, the trauma, the effects and consequences of the perverse path that the dark mechanism they call “revolution” can have on an individual or group. While it was logical to think that having the nerves to confront death could lead to a collective symptomology, my obtuse non-conformity compelled me to find an explanation. Asking questions, I discovered an explanation that was both simple and terrifying. Before being executed — as though that were not enough — the condemned had their blood extracted.

I know this is hard to believe. Therefore, I would like to add that there are confirmed accounts and important testimony on Archivo Cuba, the website of an organization which, for reasons unrelated to financial gain, has carried out a serious investigation on the subject and tried to document the deaths and disappearances of men — guilty or not — whose biographies remain inconclusive; men whose broken lives once had owners; men who even today await the trial that will vindicate them.

My motive for writing this is not to lodge an accusation, though clearly that is what this is. It is somewhat more. It is to alert readers, scholars, jurists and investigators to a nebulous, little-discussed  subject that remains shrouded in secrecy. And I am not referring to some clumsy foible but to evidence of criminal actions. Unless a document exists that shows the condemned agreed to these procedures, this constitutes a crime against humanity according to the International Criminal Court’s Rome Statute.

Fidel Castro publicly acknowledged these actions when, in a long-winded speech on February 6, 1961, he said — and I quote — “Don’t think that just because counter-revolutionaries die in disgrace before a firing squad they are not of use to the Cuban revolution. The blood of these traitors is extracted before execution in order to save the lives of the many militiamen ready to die for the Fatherland.”

But wait, there is more. All Cubans know that to be admitted to a hospital on the island — whether it be for a simple check-up or a surgical procedure — or to even see a doctor or staff member, one is required to show proof of having donated blood. Only then may the patient make use of the benefits of free hospital care in Cuba. In most cases this blood is turned into a commodity to be sold overseas without the knowledge or consent of the donors.

The story is as real as the missiles hidden in containers of sugar. Just a few days ago, before the conclusion of an official visit by President José Mujica to the largest country in the Caribbean, the newspaper El País de Uruguay reported that the leading export in 2012 from Cuba to the honorable Oriental Republic of Uruguay was human blood, the kind with a Cuban surname.

8 August 2013

It’s been so long, I hardly remember when it was that I first heard the phrase “Social Division of Labor” as a concept. This describes the emergence and separation of different types of work in the same society.

A phenomenon that — according to the enlightened — helped to raise productivity, create private property and a society of classes. Masters and slaves, masters and servants, employers and employees.

All this happened naturally. Work originally began divided by sex or by age group. Then came the distance between farmers and herders, and later that of those who, without producing basic inputs, set out to build necessary things, indispensable tools and useful services. Then, to close that big business cycle, capable of linking producers and consumers, traders and/or merchants appeared.

Over the years, this same division separated the sectors of the economy (industry, construction, agriculture, transportation….) and production sectors such as light industry, machine building, metallurgy, horticulture, etc.

It seems to be a lie; but in today’s Cuba, the division of labor has been, little by little, responding to the same sequence so often repeated both in history. Election, inheritance, necessity, chance, permissibility, circumstances and fashion.

It is impossible to forget that for a long period of time, anyone who had a car, including myself, dreamed of being taxi drivers. Doctors, engineers, artists, lawyers, undertakers, officials, military, police or ambulance drivers. All, because get to a place where we can say, “I am private taxi driver,” was similar to shouting “I’m Napoleon and Josephine Bonaparte.”

Of course, things have changed and today, at least one’s dreams, the new Cuban aspiration is to buy cheap merchandise, set up shop and go on almost aristocratic national selling spree.

Houses, halls, corridors, rooms, garages, with a little imagination any space is transformed into a great commercial center.

Centro Habana, for example, is now more like the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul; too much merchandise for too few buyers.

In the former Monte Street there’s not a single bit of it that is uninhabited, counters everywhere (they call them showrooms), where you can buy cheap clothes (or brand knock-offs), toothpaste, tubing used, latte, or industrial talc.

Usually these places are supplied by the almost noble act of several battalions of children who dedicate themselves to stealing; state employees who cheerfully take up the art of official theft,  criminals who attack tourists, foreigners traveling to Cuba in plan to lower their costs, hundreds or thousands of Cubans who today form the new Spanish Legion; and let’s not forget hundreds of exiles that for politics (commercial) decided to emigrate and today remember the song “You have to get to school on time.”

Of course, every rule has its exception, there are also gentlemen entrepreneurs who subtly, like temptation, and soft as danzón, hit the target in Havana. On one side of the corner where Avenues and 41st and 42nd converge, in the municipality of Playa, there is more than stores, bridging the huge differences, a tendon stretched to Sarria-Sant Gervasi, the most chic neighborhood or district of Barcelona.

This unique little shop that to the eyes looks somewhat clumsy, hides Roberto Cavalli, Jimmy Shoo, Michael Kors, Louis Vuitton, and all the famous brands, as synonymous with exquisite taste and studied distinction, occupy high positions in the hit parade of national ready-to-wear.

And to find the truth, you have to increase creativity.

5 July 2013

With tremendous size and a weight of 15 tons, in Antonio Maceo Plaza in Santiago de Cuba, on the size wall of the Heredia Theater, this Tuesday the lights were turned on to inaugurate a steel frame that recreates the image of my father, Commander Juan Almeida Bosque. I think so much vanity generates ridicule, not respect.

It seemed shameful, like common thieves reuniting in the complicity of the night, for the event to be presided over by Commander Ramiro Valdés (member of the Politburo of the Communist Party of Cuba and the Vice President of the Council of States and Ministers), Lázaro Expósito (member of the Central Committee and First Secretary of the PCC in the province), local leaders and a small number of obedient family members who were selected not for love of the deceased but for their closeness to the office of General Raúl Castro.

Long before this inauguration, friends and the not-so-friendly, some to inform and others to annoy, sent videos me and photos via e-mail or social networks, of how it was being constructed and what this work of art would be.

I would like to thank each and every one of the people who worked on it, masons, builders, and those who kept me informed throughout the duration of the assembly. The painter, sculptor and designer Enrique Avila Gonzalez, author of this giant poster. I also thank the members of the musical groups invited, especially the magnificent interpretation of my father’s music by the young concert band from Santiago’s Esteban Salas Conservatory. Also the management of the theater for the piece of wall.

I know very well every stone of the Heredia theater, an important cultural center I watched be built and open its doors. On one occasion, cast in a team performing shows and with a little help, I managed, on the boards of Heredia, to realize an old dream, to be part of a tribute to my father. Music was his bliss, and what made him happy.

My father loved with devotion the great Oriente, Santiago de Cuba was his passion, and by association the Heredia theater was part of his avocation. Notwithstanding that I have always had a certain apprehension about the act, such as imposing an image on a people, without knowing in advance whether they agree or not. What I liked as a child is one thing, and it’s a very different thing not to respect the opinions of local residents. I can safely bet that nobody was consulted.

Some time ago I realized that everything in the world is relative, which for me is honor, for others it may be offensive. With some friends I share the indescribable rarity of having as a father a human who, rightly or wrongly, the government transformed into myth. It is difficult to accept, especially when the object to idealize, or hate, is simply someone you love.

For me, personally, this show provokes indignation, more from knowing that Raúl Castro collaborated in the death of my father with malice aforethought, ruthless deception which to my relief I discovered before he died. So if now the señor General, on going to sleep, feels one more ghost and wants to release one more piece of his questionable past, I tell him that my family, more than a sculptural relief, deserves to hear him ask forgiveness.  Me, no, I want to see him before a judge, to see him condemned.

30 July 2013

I wasn’t there, but then they told me and later I read that on July 11 the Panamanian authorities stopped a North Korean freighter sailing through the Caribbean to the Panama Canal. Bear with me, but I think that with that name (Chong Chon Gang) would have stopped anyone; knowing that today the infamous and raggedy boat had sailed from Cuba and its final destination, written on its “Road Map” (or the log of the sailing, according to the former inspectors of the whereabouts of the 32) was nowhere democratic and, much less popular, the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea.

The cargo found set off a huge diplomatic dust-up; and this, in turn, a genuine media orgy that flared up when a little more than 24 hours after the Panamanian announcement, the Cuban Foreign Ministry (MINREX) issued an official statement that tried to minimize the central fact using the hackneyed ploy of playing with the details, while North Korea maintained a kind of “silence” on the matter in which 35 of its citizens were detained at sea.

That Havana would hide its arsenal under tons of sugar, and they were sending them to Pyongyang to repair them there, is logically credible but leaves questions.

It’s normal that over some determined period of time, planes, radar systems, anti-aircraft missiles or some other military or civic equipment, requires repair or heavy-duty maintenance. But, in this particular case, and seeing as this equipment was made in Russia, the question would be, why didn’t they send them to Russia if — according to what I understand — Cuba and Moscow maintain and even nourish a fluid communication at the highest levels.

To save money. That could be an answer that too many seems likely and offers a certain credibility. It is known that Kim Jong-Un accepts barter and that, as a common practice, North Korea repairs and modernizes this type of equipment in exchange for Cuba’s sugar or Myanmar’s rice. However, we can’t forget that at the moment when the unsayable Chong Chon Gang was stopped, the military park in questions (the two missile complexes Volga and Pechora, the new missiles in parts and pieces, the two MIG-21 Bis planes and the 15 engines for this type of airplane — made in the middle of the last century — traveled hidden under 10,000 tons of sugar.

Some people, looking to be argumentative, allege that all these military goods were very well camouflaged because of the two United Nations Security Council resolutions that prohibit its member states from transferring to, supplying, and servicing arms for Pyongyang. I’m sorry to rain on their parade and that absurd justification; but if the Island’s government (respectful like so much cackling about its commitments to peace, disarmament and respect for international law) would like to send its deadly toys to North Korean to be repaired there and then to be returned, all they have do to is to apply for the required permission from the commission that oversees that sanction in the Security Council.

All of which leads me to think that among those sacks of sugar, more than weapons, hidden truths were traveling, that were neither going to North Korea nor even thinking about coming back.

26 July 2013

A group of Cuban-American congressional representatives has formally requested that Washington deny a visa to Fidel Castro’s heir, Antonio Castro Soto del Valle. Rather than being concerned about the son’s entry to the United States, the island’s government seems more focused on his father’s exit from this world.

Yes, the father’s farewell. The former Commander-in-Chief’s curious fascination with death and funerary trappings has reached such a level of outrageousness that some time ago he ordered the creation of a special commission (obviously headed by himself) to organize and supervise the perfect execution of what will be his funeral.

Though only in the planning stage, this adiós is already enough to satisfy the voracious appetite of even Francois Rabelais’ fictional giant, Pantagruel. Communism’s dying superstar loves to compartmentalize. As a security measure the various parties involved have not yet been allowed to meet to design what the deceased-to-be foresees as a ceremony replete with the solemnity and precision of a Swiss watch.

The key military component seems more than ready. The same goes for the twenty-one gun salute, the eulogies, the mournful ceremony, and the band fully outfitted with conductor and musicians, some of whom will be dressed in black while others will be in military fatigues.

Of course, as in any other official parade, popular participation will be obligatory and massive. On this occasion, however, there is sure to be a formidable contingent of mimes serving as portrait bearers, mourners and weepers who, between sobs, will be sure to spontaneously chant the characteristic slogans we must not forget. These include: Cuba yes, Yankees no; Long live Fidel; Fatherland or death; Socialism or death; The ten million will…* no, sorry, probably not that one.

To avoid surprises and keep the machine well-oiled, the Ministry of the Interior, the Revolutionary Armed Forces and the Committees for the Defense of the Revolution regularly review two chapters of a plan whose titles share a certain association with combat missions: “Actions to Safeguard the Physical Integrity of the Nation” and “Preserving Order.”

The author of Reflections has expended so much energy on this mega madness — one we hope will be his last — that Saturday, July 13 and today, Monday, July 14 he attempted to immortalize the spot once used as his speaking platform by closing the entrances to the José Martí Memorial in the Plaza of the Revolution to the public to carry out a pair of rehearsals for the Pharaonic entombment. This was done in spite of the fact that children’s activities had previously been scheduled to take place there the entire summer. In addition to reviewing details for the ill-fated ceremony, the not-yet-deceased sought to analyze, select and personally authorize the various pieces of film footage on his life and work to be broadcast on Cuban television during the period of national mourning.

What remains unclear is the proximity of the guests to the coffin. Every time there is a new rehearsal, he changes the arrangement — crowned heads, heads of state and heads of government — breaking all the rules of protocol, making adjustments based solely on the way that, according to the prophet, each will behave.

The gentleman designated to carry out the plan noted in a jocular and somewhat theatrical way that so much of the decision-making has been concentrated in the hands of the soon-to-be deceased himself that it was hindering his ability to respond to changes which — due to paranoia, superstition, belief or bi-polar disorder — have evolved from embalming to burial to that Olympian bonfire, cremation.

*Translator’s note: The Harvest of Ten Million was a failed 1970 campaign which marshalled all the island’s resources in an effort to produce ten million tons of sugar.

19 July 2013