Julio César Contreras – Page 2

Emigration Procedures in the Civil Registry of Cienfuegos, Cuba, Take Forever and Provoke Anxiety

“Three months ago I requested the registrations I need to process my Spanish citizenship. Since then, I have come six times”

Cienfuegos Civil Registry Office, in the historic center of the city / 14ymedio

14ymedio, Julio César Contreras, Cienfuegos, 12 January 2024 / The sun has barely risen and the line already extends to the outskirts of the Cienfuegos Civil Registry, in the historic center of the city. Some stand in front of the large entrance gate; others look for accommodation on the sidewalk or under the overhang of a nearby facade. Among the eyes that remain fixed on the number 2309 of Santa Cruz Street are those of Natalia, who must request the birth registrations of her parents. “I am completing my file to apply for Spanish nationality,” she explains.

She is another face of the Cubans who escape, not only on the rafts that are launched into the sea, crossing the Darién jungle or opting for the route to the south, but also in every Civil Registry office. Most of those who apply for a birth, marriage or death certificate in Cienfuegos have the same goal: to get out and leave behind the crisis, the long blackouts and the hopelessness.

Each person waiting in line has a story in which boredom and illusion are mixed. There is the retiree who has has come four times to correct an error in his mother’s death certificate. “If I don’t make the transfer and have her house in my name, I can’t sell it.” The reason for his rush is similar to Natalia’s: “I want to meet my son who is in Miami and take part of the money from the sale.”

“You get here and think it’s going to be easy but then go from frustration to disgust,” laments Natalia

The office receives an avalanche of applications. According to the Provincial Directorate of Justice in Cienfuegos, in January 2023 almost 20,100 certifications were issued, about 11,600 more than in the same period last year. The entry into force, in 2022, of the Democratic Memory Law in Spain has led thousands of Cubans to dust off their origins to obtain a European continue reading

passport. During 2024, the trend was maintained, also egged on by the Humanitarian Parole Program implemented in 2023 by the United States.

“You get here and think it’s going to be easy but then go from frustration to disgust,” laments Natalia. An employee has opened the main door of the Civil Registry and begins to shout directions to those waiting in line. In a few minutes, the line is restructured according to each type of procedure, and some go to the central courtyard to line up. Others occupy positions in the access corridor in front of the office of a bored-looking receptionist.

“Three months ago I requested the registration I need to process Spanish citizenship. Since then, I have come six times, and the unthinkable has happened to me. My dad supposedly did not appear registered until the end of the working day due to lack of electricity,” Natalia tells this newspaper. Each new visit is “a bitter drink” and a test of her nerves.

“The employees of this place now know me and even treat me kindly, but I don’t end up with the documents.” Like the office furniture, Natalia feels that she has become one more object between those walls without solving her problem. “All I need is a couple of pieces of paper; that’s what separates me right now from my new life.”

Although announcements of digitization of archives and records are frequent in the official press, in the place on Santa Cruz Street nothing seems to have changed in two centuries with respect to the way in which certifications are written and issued. “An employee made a mistake when transcribing my divorce certificate. He changed one letter in my last name and now I have to start the whole process again,” says a young man who arrived at dawn to “be one of the first to enter.”

“Right now we are just a little busy; two of the five employees we had last year have left. We are also emigrating, all day we have to be in contact with people who leave. It’s like working at an airport; all the time you are thinking about a trip,” says an employee who prefers anonymity. “Everything falls on us, the requests that are made here and also those that are made on the internet, through digital platforms.”

“One of the biggest problems we have is that with this ’law of grandchildren’ many people are requesting documents that are a century or more old and that are not digitized,” she adds. “You have to immerse yourself in a lot of very old books, full of dust, fragile and sometimes with a level of deterioration that it is difficult to read a name or surname clearly.” The woman has had several health problems related to her work.

“Allergies, skin problems are very common, and a few years ago I got a staphylococcus infection that I caught here and was on sick leave for three months,” she explains. Salaries don’t help either. Normally, employees don’t earn more than 10,000 pesos a month, a little more than 30 dollars at the informal exchange rate. “That’s why what happens happens: many people survive by taking orders from special customers,” she adds.

“Right now we are just a little busy; two of the five employees we had last year have left”

The “special clients” that the employee talks about are people who, unlike Natalia, have enough resources to skip the line outside the Civil Registry. They are those who slip a certain amount of money into the right hands to speed up the time to obtain a birth certificate, an old record of their grandparents’ marriage or proof that a brother died in that city almost half a century ago.

In the intricate networks of the Cuban black market, notary services, bureaucratic procedures and access to the oldest archives also have their price. “I manage powers of attorney, bachelorhood, criminal records, death registrations, marriage and birth certificates, titles and notes, in addition to legalizations in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs,” reads an advertisement on a digital classifieds site.

“The prices vary according to the trouble you have and the complexity of the procedure,” clarifies the solicitous seller after a query from this newspaper. “For 20,000 pesos we get the certification of his two grandparents and he has them in his hands in less than a month, with all the data verified and without errors, nothing to be corrected because all the work is done impeccably, without typos, each surname with its correct spelling and the accents where they go.” For a higher price, you can reconstruct and even falsify from scratch a family tree that adapts to any requirement abroad. “If Galician, Galician; if you prefer Basque, then Basque,” he adds with ease when entering into confidence.

The digital path through the page of the Ministry of Justice is “wasted time,” according to Luis Ángel, another Cienfuegan who believed the official propaganda. “I went online, I made the request with all the data they asked me for, and six months later I had to come in person because they did not have the certificate ready or an answer for the delay.” In this case, as in so many with the Cuban bureaucracy, the 47-year-old man advises going personally to the records: “Seeing is believing,” he concludes.

A painting on the wall of the Santa Cruz Street registry shows an image of Raúl Castro. Under his gaze, people waiting to complete a procedure also weave relationships. “I want to go to Seville, I’m going to leave you my email in case we can meet there,” says a woman to a young woman with a small child who reaches out to take the small piece of paper with the data.

“Don’t stay in Madrid, rents are very expensive,” recommends a man to another who only needs to correct an error in his grandmother’s name to complete the file that will turn him into a Cuban Spaniard. The conversation is interrupted by the scream of the receptionist. “There are only two computers working, and we will attend to a few cases, remember that after noon we will have a blackout, so do not give the last place in line to anyone.”

Translated by Regina Anavy

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In Cuba’s Cienfuegos Bus Terminal You Don’t Travel If You Don’t Pay Extra ‘On the Left’

“We have been waiting for eight days for a bus that would at least take us to Las Tunas, so that we could continue on our way as best we could.”

The waiting rooms these days are full of people who come to sign up or check their numbers. / 14ymedio

14ymedio, Julio César Contreras, Cienfuegos, 29 December 2025 – On December 28, Maritza is not surprised that the waiting list to travel from Cienfuegos to Guantanamo has advanced only four numbers in a week. “I warned my husband at the end of October to come and reserve the tickets, because everyone knows that after the second half of December it is almost impossible to travel to any province in the country.” Reinaldo, on the other hand, finding excuses so that his wife would not reprimand him, did not help much. In the end, both ended up sitting, luggage in hand, at the entrance to the national bus terminal waiting for a miracle to happen.

The couple had never had such a hard time leaving Cienfuegos. “When I came on November 20, there were no more seats for any city in the East. However, the same employee who gave me that information had saved three spots for a woman who was behind me in the line,” explains the husband, who then noticed the reason for the incessant calls and notes from the official.

“I don’t know how much money was being sought for each ticket, but I’m convinced that for those of us who weren’t in direct contact with him, the reservations were sold out before we asked the question,” he reflects.

The waiting room on the second floor of the terminal is currently full of people who come to sign up, check their numbers or stay for many hours until a bus arrives with an empty seat, which, at this time of year, almost continue reading

never happens.

At the entrance, travelers pile up, waiting, loaded with suitcases, for a bus with capacity to arrive. / 14ymedio

“We have been waiting for eight days for a bus that would at least take us to Las Tunas, so that we could continue on our way as best we could. Luckily, we live close by, but there are people who have spent several nights here and won’t leave until they get a ticket,” explains Maritza.

The woman, who in the long days of ’bus-hunting’ has become familiar with the atmosphere of the terminal, says that the workers who have access to the passenger lists rule the lounges. “If someone decides to protest, the employee at the ticket office says that they are waiting for extra buses to be put on, but he says that to calm things down,” she says.

The couple has also learned in recent days how to play their cards well, to look for tricks to buy tickets and to get the employees to recognize them. “The shift manager always guarantees at least three seats for those who can pay 2,000 pesos more than the original ticket price,” says Maritza, who blames the “tricks” for the fact that the waiting list does not advance.

“My wife and I would have to pay 4,000 pesos, plus the tickets, if we wanted to leave quickly. I wish we had that money, but for now we can only be patient and pray that the New Year doesn’t catch us here,” says Reinaldo.

The hygiene and services at the terminal “are not such that people would spend days here,” relying on the facilities. “The women’s bathroom is closed, there is no area to store luggage, some benches are broken and the cafeteria has no services. Added to this is the indifference of the workers. Their job is to solve the problem only for those who can pay,” adds Maritza, who admits that she feels as if she were stranded on the road and “not in a terminal.”

The noise from the street that sneaks into the premises brings the voices of private boatmen who offer trips to the capital. / 14ymedio

The noise from the street that filters into the station brings the voices of private drivers offering trips to the capital. “Two days ago, a trip to Havana was charging 6,000 pesos, but today there are taxi drivers talking about 10,000 pesos per person. They also raised the prices to 5,000 and 7,000 pesos for trips to Matanzas and Varadero,” says Maritza, attentive to the bustle of drivers and the prices in case she ever needs to go west.

“This is the time of year when everyone who has a car takes advantage of the opportunity to earn a little more, although it is also true that fuel is impossible and repairs cost an arm and a leg. Many of the drivers are as shocked as we are, but they prefer to wait rather than lower the price,” says Reinaldo.

A quick movement of people towards the waiting list ticket office immediately attracts the attention of all the travelers. Reinaldo’s wife remains seated watching over the luggage, while the Reinaldo walks with a firm step towards the interior of the terminal. After a few minutes, the group of people gathered together dissolves and the information arrives first-hand. “A bus came in that is going to Holguín. At first they said there were four seats, but, in the end, there is only one,” he says, and adds resignedly: “That’s not ours either.”

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‘The Government Must Understand That Only We Can Provide Food to the People’

Faced with the new restrictive measures, many Cienfuegos merchants have closed their businesses

The caution of private entrepreneurs is noticeable even on their product boards / 14ymedio

14ymedio, Julio César Contreras, Cienfuegos, 31 December 2024 — The before and after that marks the arrival of a new year raises a universal question: what will 2025 bring? Cienfuegos, immersed in a deep crisis like so many places in Cuba, is no exception. Doubts are greater among entrepreneurs, a sector that in recent months has changed from initial euphoria to fear of the new official measures that regulate wholesale trade.

On Dolores road, in stores with wide portals on both sides, the caution of private business owners is noticeable even on their product boards. Where before there was a long list of sweets, soft drinks, alcoholic beverages and all kinds of imported food, now you can barely find anything.

Norberto avoids making predictions for the new year. “They have shaken up the board,” he explains to 14ymedio about the new regulations that force micro, small and medium-sized enterprises (MSMEs) to sell wholesale with the mediation of the State and the explicit prohibition of doing so for self-employed workers. His small private store was fed, precisely, by a private business that imported large volumes from Mexico.

“In our establishment, the stable sale of oil, chicken, picadillo and other products highly demanded by our customers was guaranteed,” Norberto points out. This end of the year, however, in fridges and on shelves, the frozen chicken drumsticks have disappeared, along with the wide variety of beans that until recently were offered and the decreased options for pasta and tomato sauce. continue reading

Entrepreneurs avoid making predictions for 2025 and are careful with the products they exhibit / 14ymedio

Norberto’s store is a distillate of the effort of several generations of his family. The large family estate, on the outskirts of the city, was for decades the productive epicenter of his grandparents and parents. But a few years ago, when the purchase and sale of houses and land was finally allowed, his relatives decided to finish planting the farm with crops, fruit trees and add a pigsty. The resulting money went to a house on the Dolores road and a small grocery store.

Now, the Cienfuegos man has many questions about the future of his business: “Will state-owned companies be able to maintain a permanent assortment of the merchandise we need? Will there be new measures with more restrictions and prohibitions? Will they include more products on the list of capped prices that they now impose on us?” His doubts are not exaggerated, because since he opened the doors of his store less than two years ago “there has been only bad news.”

However, Norberto is not going to give up for the moment. “Our MSME will renew the license, but we are also preparing in case we finally have to close,” he admits. “The problem is that you can’t have it both ways: either I stay open or I close. There comes a time when you have to choose.”

Gonzalo is one of many entrepreneurs who, this Christmas, instead of garlands and red hats, has dressed in the costume of uncertainty. In a space on San Carlos Street, near Martí Park, the owner of another shop repeats similar questions. “I bought directly from a private person in Punta Gorda, but they are already liquidating the products they have left because they don’t want to do business with the Government. Who am I going to buy from in January?” he asks.

Many merchants maintain the illusion that “something will happen” that forces the authorities to implement greater economic openness

At the moment, he is not considering liquidating his business. Hope is the last thing that is lost when there is so much money at stake. Many merchants maintain the illusion that “something will happen” that will force the Cuban authorities to implement greater economic openness and eliminate the restrictive measures recently adopted. “We can see that it will be very difficult next year, and it is possible that this will make the Government understand that only we can provide food to the people.”

For Gonzalo, there is an inversely proportional relationship between what happens in the stores of the rationed market and the role that private shops are playing. “To the same extent that the supply of rationing is smaller and more unstable, MSMEs have been growing in offers and variety, and we also have places that make you want to enter – beautiful, well-decorated with good attention to the customer. Buying right now at a state ration store is depressing.”

The entrepreneur, however, recognizes that many Cubans cannot pay the high prices of the MSMEs: a liter of vegetable oil, 800 pesos this last week of December in Cienfuegos; a pound of chicken around 310, and a 500-gram package of spaghetti for 300 pesos. For retirees and state employees who do not receive remittances from abroad or have any informal sources of money, the private shops are prohibitive.

“We do not set prices on a whim. Our business has many expenses to cover, and the lack of fuel has made the transfer of goods, the payment of employees and the investment to turn the main room and the door of the house into a pleasant little shop are expenses that prevent us from selling cheaper.” Christmas offers and year-end sales are not the order of the day because the bills keep coming.

Christmas offers and year-end sales are not the order of the day because the bills keep coming. /

Other merchants got ahead of events. Liuba, 48 years old, sensed what was coming. Resident in the Junco Sur neighborhood, the businesswoman liquidated her small business earlier this year, a tiny store where customers could find everything from sweet cookies, malts and beer to packages of minced turkey, a food very helpful for those who cannot pay for other animal proteins. “I knew all this was coming because I have a relative who works in the Ministry of Foreign Trade and he warned me of what was being cooked up.”

Liuba didn’t lose too much money. “I finished selling the merchandise I had in stock and told the owner of the house, who was renting me the space, that I was no longer going to continue and handed over my license.” Now, Liuba offers some products through WhatsApp groups. “We have food combos that are paid for from abroad by Zelle. My husband, my eldest son and I deliver them to your home.” The new modality, absolutely informal, has given her a break: “I got rid of the inspectors, the prices and the maintenance of the premises.” Now, I put together the packages by buying goods from agricultural producers and other MSMEs. “I sell less, but I’m calmer.”

On the wide road of Dolores, the offer boards have very few products at the end of the year, but the new official restrictions have not affected the combos that Liuba has prepared for Christmas. “If next year they remove all these absurd laws, I will reopen my little grocery store,” she says, but for the moment she prefers to stay “under the radar” and sell outside the law.

Translated by Regina Anavy

See here for one report on average incomes in Cuba for 2024.

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Cristina, a Life of Work as a Teacher and, at 78 Years Old, Sleeping on the Streets of Cienfuegos, Cuba

On the broken benches of El Prado lie old people, beggars and drunks who have no other place to spend the night.

When they see a patrol, the beggars hide so they don’t get kicked out of the park. / 14ymedio

14ymedio, Julio César Contreras, Cienfuegos, 22 December 2024 — Night falls with low temperatures in El Prado de Cienfuegos this December. Only a few people walk through the streets, dark due to power outages or the lack of public lighting. State bars and restaurants close before 11:00 but Cristina, a retired teacher, could not alleviate her hunger even if the establishments were open.

Cristina says she has been abandoned to her fate by the Social Security system, without even being able to enter an old-age home. “My nephew, despite having raised him, threw me out of my own house and the social workers ignored my problem; that is the reality. My only bed is the floor of the doorway where I find a place to rest and my only clothes are the ones I am wearing,” she laments.

“I belong to El Prado just as the statue of El Benny belongs,” says Gustavo.

Cristina’s tragic situation is not an isolated case. On the broken benches of El Prado lie old people, beggars and drunks who have no other place to spend the night. Some carry sacks or bags where they keep their few belongings. Others go empty-handed, tired of wandering and begging so that, if luck and charity help them, they can eat once a day.

“On the Paseo de El Prado is my little shop and my house at the same time. I go through all the garbage bins collecting cans and bottles to sell as raw material. That’s how I survive. I go to sleep wherever I feel sleepy first, whether it’s in the library porches or outside the Baptist church. I belong to continue reading

El Prado just like the statue of El Benny belongs,” says Gustavo, another of the park’s occasional residents.

According to what he told 14ymedio, he dedicated his best years to the sugar industry, until a work accident prevented him from continuing. “I don’t have a home and sometimes I go months without being able to shower, but I am an industrial engineer, graduated in 1971, and I lived through the dismantling of the sugar mills in the 90s. After so much sacrifice, the debacle also came for me,” confesses the Cienfuegos native, leaning on his crutch.

Many beggars are dedicated to collecting garbage to sell as raw material. / 14ymedio

“My accident happened in the middle of the harvest and after that I didn’t hear anything more from the union or the management of the 14 de Julio sugar mill in the municipality of Rodas, where I worked. They always accused me of being ’conflictive’ for clearly saying what I thought and, at the first opportunity they had, they took me to the medical commission to get rid of me. Then I lost my house in a fire. Eight years later, I’m still waiting for the government to address my case,” Gustavo complains.

Cristina and Gustavo are not alone. Protected by the quiet of the night and without a better option, other beggars rest their heads every night on the marble steps or the hard wood of the benches. When a patrol car approaches, they press themselves to the stones and do not move until dawn. Despite everything, they do not want the police to take them away.

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Lacking Tasty Food and Electricity, Dinos Pizza in Cienfuegos Puts Tables Outside To Attract Customers

Every weekend, tables block the passage on the sidewalk in front of the establishment. / 14ymedio

14ymedio, Julio César Contreras, Cienfuegos, 7 December 2024 — The strategy of some state-run businesses in the city of Cienfuegos, which, in the absence of appetizing dishes, seek to attract customers by extending service beyond their walls, is similar to the joke repeated decades ago by Cuban comedian Chaflán. When a wife suggests to her husband that they go out to eat, he answers: “Let’s move the table to the patio.”

With red tablecloths, small plates and even an ashtray, several tables at the Dinos Pizza restaurant block the way on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant every weekend. Passersby have to make their way around the obstacles, although they never see anyone sitting on the stools, enjoying an aperitif or paying the bill. “It takes a lot more than putting all these things out for people to want to eat here,” says a nearby resident who mocks the initiative.

Inspired by the terraces of restaurants and cafes very common in Europe, employees have moved the service outdoors because if diners do not come inside looking for a tasty meal, then they have to go out to catch them even if it means interrupting their path and causing them the occasional start if they walk distractedly along the sidewalk.

“Only a tourist falls into that trap,” said a young man near the tables, which were arranged as if part of a stage set. The state-owned Dinos Pizza chain, run by the Palmares SA Extrahotel Company, sells mainly fast food. At its peak, at the beginning of this century, when the Venezuelan oil subsidy encouraged large investments in public services, the franchise was very popular. continue reading

The supply crisis and competition from private businesses have hit Dinos Pizza and other state-owned businesses hard. / 14ymedio

However, the lack of budget, the supply crisis and competition from private businesses have hit Dinos Pizza hard, turning it into little-visited, filthy establishments with a limited menu. “The workers are trying to keep it from closing, but now with all the adjustments that have taken place in the gastronomy sector, they demand profitability and a certain volume of income which they have a hard time obtaining,” says Julia, a retiree from Palmares who is aware of the difficulties that the company is going through, speaking to 14ymedio.

“Now, all the managers and officials are talking about the so-called productive linkage with the new economic actors, but here in the city of Cienfuegos there are few state-owned businesses that have achieved this.” The Dinos, which displays some of its chairs and tables on the sidewalk, “does not receive any payment in foreign currency, so it has very limited ability to purchase products that require freely convertible currency (MLC). For example, if they want to offer customers a mojito, they cannot close a deal to buy bottles of Havana Club in a store in that sells only MLC.”

“Several premises that were previously managed by Palmares have been handed over to private MSMEs, but some are still under state management, although it is clear that they are suffering losses and, sooner or later, they will have to close,” adds the woman. “The employees themselves try to delay the inevitable because they know that, when it passes into private hands, the State will offer them a position in a worse location. Most do not accept the new position and end up going home.”

“I think this is more about presenting a certain image of commercial dynamism and that this is a normal city,” warned a customer outside a central store, a few meters from El Prado, who came across a table, also on the sidewalk, where bottles of sweet wine, vinegar and a rum “so bad that it doesn’t even have a label” were on offer.

On a table, also on the sidewalk, bottles of sweet wine, vinegar and rum were offered. / 14ymedio

The man points to another reason for the increase in sales “outside the door.” “Here we spend almost the entire working day without electricity, in those interior spaces there is no one, neither the workers nor the customers who can stand it,” he explains, and behind him the interior of the shop is practically dark due to the blackout. “Taking the products out onto the street is the only way to be able to sell them, because nobody wants to go into that wolf’s mouth.”

The goods, tablecloths and forks left out in the open are faced with another serious problem: the lack of hygiene. “In Paris or Madrid these tables will look very nice, almost on the street, but here there is a lot of accumulated dirt, a lot of people wandering around and asking for money, a lot of abandoned animals that approach you to ask you to give them some food,” laments another customer who barely read the menu at Dinos Pizza and immediately turned around.

Although the name bears the traditional Italian dish, the disappointed customer did not find on the menu board those five letters that are universal and understood everywhere on the planet: pizza. “There is a lot of apathy, the employees move as if in slow motion,” the woman concluded. A tourist passing by the restaurant ended up sitting in one of the seats in front of the small plate and the glass ashtray.

For a few minutes, before the traveler read the menu, that red tablecloth, with its cutlery, looked like any other in a distant city, where terraces are part of the local gastronomy and are customers’ favorites. That impression only lasted a few minutes, until the man noticed that he was in the middle of a set, got up and left.

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Only One Doctor Works at Night in the Emergency Room of the Pediatric Hospital in Cienfuegos

“I knocked on the doors of several clinics, but no one answered,” says Ivis, who came to the center to get care for her daughter.

Image of the waiting room at the Paquito González Cueto Pediatric Hospital. / 14ymedio

Julio César Contreras, Cienfuegos, 23 November 2024 — The night Ivis arrived at the Cienfuegos Pediatric Hospital with her daughter in her arms, she could not have imagined that institutional neglect and the rest of the crises affecting Cuban Public Health would have had such a profound effect on the center. Because the care is specialized for children and adolescents, the hospital had always had better conditions than others in the province, but the day her daughter suffered an epileptic episode, “there was not even a doctor in the waiting room.”

The bad times for Ivis began, however, before arriving at the Paquito González Cueto Pediatric Hospital. “At seven in the evening the girl began to have strong convulsions and I immediately called the hospital to send me an ambulance, but no one answered the phone,” the mother told 14ymedio. “In my desperation I went out into the street and found a máquina [shared taxi]. Although it may seem unbelievable, the driver charged us 1,000 pesos from our house in the Pastorita neighborhood to the hospital.”

Paying the price for the transport was the least of it, laments the Cienfuegos native, who after entering the Paquito González Cueto did not see “a soul.” “I knocked on the doors of several clinics, but no one answered. Then the security guard appeared, who told me that the doctor on duty was eating and that we had to wait for him,” she explains, pointing out that the memory of that night still bothers her.

Ivis waited for about half an hour until the health worker returned to the office.

Ivis waited for about half an hour until the paramedic returned to the office. During the time she was waiting, she points out, she did not see any medical personnel, whether nurses, laboratory technicians or cleaning assistants, pass by. “They had already told me that this was bad, but I never imagined that at 8:00 at night in the corridors of the Pediatric Hospital there would be no one to help the patients. In my nervousness I asked a woman if she had already been seen, and she told me that she was there to charge her phone, because there was no electricity at home,” she says. continue reading

After going to the doctor’s office, the mother stressed that the doctor’s care was good, but in the current conditions of the health system, with a chronic lack of supplies and medicines, there was little that the health worker could do. “He prescribed a course of clonazepam, but he himself told me that there was none in the hospital pharmacy. Luckily, since the girl is epileptic, I always have these medicines on hand, even if they cost me dearly on the informal market,” says Ivis.

The cienfueguera gave the medicine to her daughter and sat in the waiting room to give it time to take effect. “I started talking to a woman who was there with her grandson. It turned out that she had been waiting since 4:00 in the afternoon for a vehicle to take her to Cruces. The child has respiratory problems and an ambulance or one of the taxis that work with the hospitals was supposed to take him home,” she recalls.

The elderly woman assured Ivis that “she had a hard time even giving her grandson a spray”

The elderly woman, desperate from fatigue and the approach of night, told Ivis that, despite having brought her grandson to the provincial capital seeking specialized care, “she had a hard time even giving him a spray.”

Outside, sitting on the hospital porch under the dim lights of the ceiling, some young people were talking and laughing. According to Ivis, “they are from nearby neighborhoods who, instead of going to the malecón where there is no electricity due to the blackouts and they are exposed to being assaulted, they come here to take advantage of the electricity a little.”

The woman says that after seeing them, an idea came to her mind: “In this country everything is backwards. Parents would like not to have to bring their sick children to those dirty and dark hospitals, but healthy children come on their own for a few hours of electricity and cool night air.”

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‘I Have Spent Almost a Thousand Pesos and I Don’t Have Enough Food for a Week,’ Laments a Retired Woman From Cienfuegos, Cuba

At the Calzada de Dolores fair, which is held on Saturdays, it is becoming more and more expensive to pay for the few products that there are.

A positive attribute of the fair is having the concentration of products in one place, residents believe. / 14ymedio

14ymedio, Julio César Contreras, Cienfuegos, 11 November 2024 — On Calzada de Dolores two parallel fairs coexist every Saturday. One is for those who have the required licenses to sell. The other is for those who, without a license, have all kinds of food, toiletries or even jewelry. Both have one thing in common: the prices scare off the people of Cienfuegos who come looking for affordable variety and acceptable quality. It is normal to have to turn around.

“I wanted to be here at 7:00 in the morning, but the lack of public transport prevented me,” says Fermin, a resident who came looking for a good deal and is about to leave disappointed. “There is only a little bit of junk left, corn flour and some jams that the MSMEs bring to sell. There is more soda and beer than is really necessary to feed a household. Anyone who sees so many people would think that there is a wide range of products, but most of the town leaves empty-handed, or carrying a small bag with only two or three things,” he says.

The trucks parked in the middle of the street give the impression of an abundance that exists only in official propaganda, which punctually announces the Saturday event. Fermín notes that nothing is further from the truth, but the little that there is is not enough for pockets like his. With a monthly salary of 3,200 pesos, the Cienfuegos resident must juggle to get food every day.

Trucks parked in the middle of the street give the impression of an abundance that exists only in official propaganda. / 14ymedio

“The positive thing about this fair is the concentration of products in one place, because, with rare exceptions, the cost of purchases is the same as in other places. I’m craving a bean stew and I’ll have to wait a while, because there isn’t any. The most I can do is buy a small pot of chili peppers for 60 pesos, until the rest appears,” the man admits.

If it is difficult for him, it is worse for Carmen, a 69-year-old retiree whose pension has only covered two cucumbers, a handful of bananas, a pound of malangas and three pounds of rice. “I have spent almost a thousand pesos and I can categorically say that I am not guaranteed food for even a week. To top it off, you have to be very attentive to the weighing because, at the slightest carelessness, they steal without mercy. It is an abuse they have with the population, especially with those of us who have dedicated ourselves for decades to working for this system, which has ended up being a total debacle,” she admits.

Among the stalls you can find a pound of pork for 700 pesos, or a liter of oil for the same amount. Both are highly sought-after products, but at these prices it is almost impossible for many to buy them. “They can put whatever they want on sale, but if everything continues to be so expensive we will not solve anything. I have been here since dawn, waiting for some sales to spend less overall, but if I don’t hurry I will go home the same way I came,” laments Carmen.

The vendors display their merchandise in plastic boxes, wooden shelves, tents or on the ground itself, but they never take their eyes off the inspectors, who wait for the opportunity to fine anyone who fails to comply with the price limits decreed by municipal governments, a measure that can be as strict as it is avoidable, depending on how willing the official is to be corrupted.

“They make money at the expense of others’ sacrifices. They impose fines of up to 10,000 pesos for anything they can think of, supposedly in compliance with the law. They demand a lot of documentation, a lot of hygiene, a lot of legality. However, I see them turning a blind eye to some individuals who have bought them. That is the truth,” says Arquímedes, a small farmer living in the municipality of Abreus, who is calling for the sector to be liberalized.

“They should remove all bureaucratic obstacles, which are only useful for wasting time and resources. There is no need for Acopio [the State Procurement and Distribution Agency] or any other entity. If they sold us everything we need to work the land, if they allowed us to sell first-hand and stopped treating us as if we were thieves, the supply would increase rapidly,” the farmer believes.

If you wait too long for offers, you risk returning home with nothing. / 14ymedio

The price caps in agricultural markets, a provincial jurisdiction according to decree 30/2021, are, together with the cap imposed on MSMEs for six basic products since July, the two mechanisms that, according to economists, producers and private individuals, are limiting supply. The Vice Minister of Finance and Prices, Lourdes Rodríguez Ruiz, said this Saturday that since July the Government has collected more than 600 million pesos nationwide under these regulations.

“Any act in which the price of a product sold to the population is violated, agreed upon by the State, affects the people. Our job is to maintain the established price and quality,” he argued. The result, however, is not the desired one, even though the law regulating agricultural markets has been in place for more than three years. The recipe, together with other government decisions and the general crisis affecting the country, has only resulted in the reduction of supply.

“The situation is getting tighter for ordinary people every day. Before, you could buy at least the essentials, but things are so tough that even children are going without food. This government is playing with fire,” concludes a young man at the fair while offering his to light his companion’s cigarette.

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Eyeglasses, Another Problem Cubans ‘Resolve’ Thanks to ‘Families in the Exterior’

In Cienfuegos you can only find material of dubious quality or at impossible prices in the private shops

In the optical shop on the boulevard the shelves are empty / 14ymedio

14ymedio, Julio César Contreras, Cienfuegos, 7 November 2024 — In Cienfuegos, optometrists are as scarce as the eyeglasses themselves. Plastic frames of poor quality from a dollar store in Miami is the most that those who are condemned to solve their vision problems within the Island can aspire to. For those who have relatives abroad, the answer is easier. A doctor is found to test the eyes, and the prescription travels to the United States or Europe, where relatives will assume the payment.

The shortage of specialists is not the only thing that affects ophthalmology in Cuba. It is a challenge to find eye drops for vision tests, and the measuring devices often don’t work. Therefore, it is not uncommon that in the Pediatric Hospital of the city, where the equipment is more or less better preserved than in other centers and some supplies still arrive, there are several adults waiting to be treated – alleging friendship or offering “gifts” – by an optometrist.

Maritza is one of them. She managed, through the friend of a friend, to have the doctor see her after months of suffering from headaches because her glasses no longer worked for her. With prescription in hand, the Cienfueguera prepared to go to the optician, but on the rickety shelves there was not a single frame that she could wear. continue reading

It is not uncommon that in the Pediatric Hospital, where the equipment is more or less better preserved, there are several adults waiting to be treated

“The first thing that surprised me was to see that the optical shop itself has rented a space to private cell phone repairers. I immediately knew that the other people and I were not there for the same thing,” the woman tells 14ymedio. Maritza approached the counter and handed the prescription to the clerk. “The lady, almost of retirement age, said that they only had small graduations available, and that I should return in a week to see if there was anything new.”

According to Maritza, for years she has seen that the shelves of the optical shop, located on the boulevard, are practically empty, with a few dull frames that don’t please the tastes of the needy. But she always thought that at least there would be some options, even if they weren’t better quality or in good taste.

On other occasions, Maritza also found it difficult to get glasses, but now she has no choice but to go to the informal market. “It’s a lot of work because I have different prescriptions for each eye. Sometimes it has taken more than six months for the manufacturing. For me it’s a very big economic sacrifice to pay for the service, but I have no choice but to do it,” she laments.

The premises of Ópticas Miramar is located two blocks from the store. Except that the payment must be made in hard currency, the attention to the public and the offers do not differ that much from the establishments that sell frames in pesos. “Supposedly the work will be finished in one or two days, but, in practice, it takes weeks to be able to pick up the glasses. Nor is there a variety of frames to choose from, so not even by paying dearly can you buy what you want,” says Idalmis, a retiree who left the shop disappointed.

At Ópticas Miramar there are more options, but the payment is in hard currency / 14ymedio

The client hoped to order some progressive lenses, but Ópticas Miramar has not been manufacturing them for months. “Street vendors often go around offering all kinds of stuff, but since I don’t know where they come from, I prefer to go to places where I can have a minimum of guarantees. In addition, they are usually poor quality and break easily, and the lenses look like plastic,” she says.

Finally, Idalmis found the glasses she was looking for in the home of some private sellers who are dedicated exclusively to eye products. “The glasses cost me 6 MLC [freely convertible currency] and can cost up to 20, depending on the type. It’s not that I have plenty of money, but since this is a necessity for me, I try to find something of quality because, undoubtedly, cheap becomes expensive,” she explains.

Some private businesses have also emerged in the city that manufacture graduated prescription glasses. “I went to a private optician in front of the Provincial Hospital. If I bring the frames, it costs me 5,000 pesos, and if I buy them there, it costs twice as much. With those prices it’s better to continue with my old frames, which are now missing an arm,” complains Tomás, who, for more irony, worked years ago in an optics store in Cienfuegos.

When I worked there, most of the frames and lenses didn’t reach the people”

“When I worked there, most of the frames and lenses didn’t reach the people, because the technicians kept the raw materials themselves for their private jobs,” confesses Tomás.

In the small stalls and houses that serve as improvised stores, graduated lenses cost between 800 and 1,200 pesos. Those specialized for serious vision problems, different measurements in each eye or other particularities cannot even be found or are extremely expensive. “If I calculate based on my salary, my wife and I would have to devote three entire monthly salaries to buying the glasses we need,” Tomás reflects. “Seeing or eating? That is the question.”

Translated by Regina Anavy

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Cuba’s State Employees Are Given Orders to Address Any ‘Situation’ Arising from the Blackouts

Several employees in Cienfuegos disagree with these orders and fear an unstoppable reaction from the public

State employees have been ordered to warn police if things become tense due to recent blackouts. / 5deSeptiembre

14ymedio, Julio César Contreras, Cienfuegos, 21 October 2024 — As the hours-long blackouts take their toll on the people of Cienfuegos, state workers can be seen standing guard at offices and public institutions on Sunday. Boards of directors have been explicitly ordered to deal with any “situation” that might arise, specifically bu discouraging demonstrations by an exhausted citizenry after three days with hardly any electricity.

“The truth is that, if there were a protest, I wouldn’t know what to do because I too have a lot of complaints and am dissatisfied with everything that’s happening in this country,” said Humberto, a state employee who has chosen to obey orders despite any doubts he might have. “I don’t want to lose my job because it guarantees at least part of my family’s livelihood. I’m worried that this could all lead to violence that would be put down by force. Something like that would be very hard for people who are clearly tired,” he added, standing at the doorway of his workplace.

The 52-year-old Cienfuegos resident explains what his Sundays were like before he started his job and the daily challenges people like him faced beyond the lack of electricity. “Before coming here, I would go to the Pastorita buildings to look for rice so my children could eat. My wife was cooking with charcoal because we ran out of liquefied gas and we can’t afford to buy it on the open market. When they told me I should take this shift, I agreed, but I wonder what I’m defending,” he admits. continue reading

” When they told me I should take this shift, I agreed, but I wonder what I’m defending”

Mayra lives on Argüelles Street, where many companies and government offices are located. Unlike Humberto, she is not willing to participate in overnight guard duties at her workplace. “I understand that they’re afraid of what could happen but I didn’t create this crisis situation. Nor are the offices my property. If a protest does take place, I won’t do anything to stop it because [the protestors] would be defending many of the same positions that I have. I know that taking a stance like this could cost me dearly at work but I won’t do anything that goes against my principles,” she says.

Mayra explains that guard duty has been organized into 24-hour shifts. In order to prevent crowds of people from gathering, employees have been ordered to immediately contact the police if they notice anything suspicious. “I could never forgive myself for turning in innocent people. First, they would be beaten, then they would go to jail merely for openly expressing themselves. Of course, when the orders came down , there were many opportunists here who were happy to oblige, as though it were a heroic act. I’m not braver than anyone else but I have my dignity,” says Mayra. Though she declined to reveal exactly what she does professionally, she has said that her job has something to do with the provincial People’s Power Assembly.

Workers are being called upon to guard both open and closed spaces. For example, on the Paseo and El Prado soldiers and dozens of individuals from the Communist Party and other government agencies have been tasked with ensuring public order. Meanwhile, residents of the surrounding neighborhoods sit in doorways and on sidewalks trying to escape the heat, the mosquitoes and the hours of tension.

“This country is like a huge minefield that is about to explode”

“No one really knows how long it will take to restore power so I’m on call for awhile. Other employees here have offered to pay me 200 pesos per person to cover for them,” says a man standing behind a desk in his company’s reception area. “It’s true that I have to sacrifice myself day and night but I need the money to feed my mother, who is very sick. I hope that everything will be calm and that this situation will be resolved. What I really don’t want is confrontation between Cubans, much less unjust arrests like those on 11J*. I’m afraid this will get worse than it already is,” he admits.

Two police patrol cars parked in Martí Park provide a clue as to what their role would be in the event of a public demonstration. Though seemingly calm for now, the city is under heavy guard by people who, in many instances, have been threatened with sanctions and fear losing their jobs if they do not comply. “I know that the methods to convince those of us who refuse or who are undecided are harsh. There’s a lot of fear that anything could trigger an uncontrollable reaction by the public, who have been overwhelmed by all these difficulties for many years. This country is like a huge minefield that is about to explode,” concludes Mayra, putting her hands on her head.

*Translator’s note: 11 July 2021, when mass protests broke out across the island, which led to a government crackdown.

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“Anyone Who Depends on the ‘Basic Family Basket’ in Cienfuegos Cannot Bathe”

Deodorant, toothpaste and other basic necessities are available only in private stores and shops that take foreign currency

Sellers increase their prices and “take advantage of the problem” with toiletries / 14ymedio

14ymedio, Julio César Contreras, Cienfuegos, 19 October 2024 — Anyone who wishes to purchase personal hygiene products in Cienfuegos at a reasonable price will have to travel the whole city without the guarantee of obtaining what they are looking for. Deodorant, toothpaste and other basic necessities have disappeared from state establishments. When they are found, they are displayed on private business tables and shelves at prices unattainable for the majority of the population. Wearing perfume, therefore, has become a luxury that few allow themselves.

“Buying a deodorant in a store in MLC (freely convertible currency) is simply impossible,” complains Irene, a Cienfueguera in her 40s. “The few times they put it out, it’s quickly monopolized by merchants who then resell it at a minimum price of 800 pesos.” This Monday morning, she says, she walked all over the Paseo del Prado and saw them priced at up to 2,500 pesos. “In my house there are four people, and between my husband and me we earn only 7,000 pesos per month. I get like the Cockroach Martina,* with the difference that with that money we can’t buy anything,” she adds.

According to this mother – she has two sons – the shortage of this type of article is more pressing in rural areas. There, she says, private merchants raise prices more and “take advantage of the problem. While in the city of Cienfuegos a common soap costs 160 pesos, in Palmira it can be worth 200 or 250, depending on the seller. The saddest thing is that this is our only option. Whoever depends on the ’basic family basket’ [from the rationing system] in Cienfuegos cannot bathe.”

Michel, owner of a restaurant, says that he allocates no less than 5,000 pesos a month just for toiletries

For his part, Michel, owner of a restaurant, says that he allocates no less than 5,000 pesos a month just for toiletries. “I’ve always liked to put on cologne after bathing. Touring the points of sale on the boulevard, the cheapest price is around 1,500 pesos, and in the Eureka store, for example, continue reading

the most affordable is 7 MLC,” he says. “I wonder how people who don’t receive financial aid from abroad and those who receive the miserable salary that the Cuban government pays to its workers can buy these things.”

This self-employed person says, however, that some time ago it was relatively easy to buy soap and detergent at private businesses, to name just two products. However, with the most recent government measures, these items have also been lost from these establishments. “Along the Calzada de Dolores you could find what was necessary, and there was even variety. Today it is a tremendous headache to get the essentials to keep the house clean and, in my case, also the business,” emphasizes Michel.

In the private shops on San Carlos Street, toothpaste costs between 1,300 and 2,000 pesos / 14ymedio

In the private shops that are located along San Carlos Street, toothpaste can be found for a price between 1,300 and 2,000 pesos, depending on the brand and the quality of the product. “I don’t buy a tube of toothpaste every month, but the mere purchase is almost a family sacrifice,” says Annia, who just bought the item in a private store. “There is no alternative but to save as much as possible, because it is not an optional product: it directly affects health.”

This Cienfuguera confesses that she must juggle to keep her clothes well washed, and having shampoo and hair conditioner is practically a whim: “We have been plunged into horrifying misery. People, in addition to being hungry, are neglected and dirty, experiencing extreme needs that threaten the quality of life and existence itself. Misery has even crept into our skin, and it will be very difficult to eliminate it.”

*Translator’s note: A story told to children about a cockroach that finds a penny and doesn’t know where to spend it.

Translated by Regina Anavy

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Leaving Cuba Is the Only Mission Medical Students in Cienfuegos Want to Go on

Students at the University of Medical Sciences in Cienfuegos / / Facebook/UCMC

14ymedio, Julio César Contreras, Cienfuegos, 15 October 2024 — Studying in order to leave the country and leaving the country in order to survive is a theme often discussed among students at the Cienfuegos School of Medical Sciences. Faced with widespread shortages, few reliable ways to get around and hunger, students make huge sacrifices to attend daily classes that will guarantee them a place in some future overseas medical “mission.” If they had other options, they would not be here.

“Getting into this field was complicated because my parents worked for the state, had no money and had no friends with connections,” says Dayana, a first-year medical student. “I am using the same backpack I used in high school. I spend up to three hours a day, every day, hitching rides to class but this is what I have to do to guarantee my future.”

Dayana lives in Rodas, one of the communities that border Cienfuegos, the provincial capital. She says that conditions in which on-campus students must live have dissuaded her from rooming in the dorms. Nevertheless, her class schedule has forced her to experience, at least somewhat, the realities of campus life. “The food at the school is awful. For lunch they give you some badly cooked soup with rice and occasionally a hard-boiled egg. To be honest, I’d rather commute every day from Rodas than live in a dorm without basic amenities.”

Living conditions and bad cafeteria food dissuade many students from rooming in the dorms. / 14ymedio

Dayana’s decision was influenced by the experiences of her friend Indira, a third-year student who does live in a dorm. “Hygiene is an ongoing issue at this school even though they are supposed to be training doctors,” she says.

What particularly bothers Indira is the training. “My classmates and I have been affected by any number of disruptions that have limited how much we can learn. They range from a teacher shortage and outdated medical literature to inadequate practical experience and primitive healthcare facilities. What we are taught is actually a bit outdated. Most people have to continue reading

learn things on their own or through a relative who is a doctor,” she confesses.

Worst of all, as she has warned Dayana many times, are the hospital internships. “The first big challenge is that most patients and their families don’t believe we can care for them properly. Then there’s the lack of specialists to guide us through the training process. The other thing, which everyone knows about, is the shortage of supplies. We don’t even have syringes to learn how to draw blood,” she complains.

For those who live in outlying areas, commuting to the provincial capital is not easy. / 14ymedio

Freddy, Indira’s boyfriend and a fifth-year medical student, has already become cynical. He has seen half his classmates leave in the last six years. Some because they realized they were wasting time “burning the midnight oil” only to become poorly paid professionals; others because they decided to leave the country. “There are those who study just to join a medical mission and emigrate. Others continue their studies because they want to get a degree but not work for Public Health because they plan to use their degrees elsewhere,” he explains.

He points out that things are just as bad for foreign students. One of Freddy’s classmates, a young woman from Namibia, had been renting an apartment in the Juanita neighborhood with a friend for over six years. “It had no water. Everything was dirty and dark. It was impossible to go on like that,” she says. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m in the right place. When I left my country I had high expectations but now I understand the old saying, ’You get what you pay for.’”

“I thought things would be different because Cuba is famous for its health care system. But, when got here, we found a school with unpainted walls, classrooms in poor condition, teachers with no desire to teach, textbooks that are over 30 years old and used, laboratories with old, broken equipment and cafeterias without food,” she says. “I can understand why Cubans drop out of school. Like them, I came to study, not to starve.”

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If Books Are a Reflection of its Cultural Health, Cienfuegos is a Graveyard

The only things that are left in the bookshop are shelves containing repeated copies of the same book to fill up the empty space / 14ymedio

14ymedio, Julio César Contreras, Cienfuegos, 13 October 2024 – Every day, numerous people come into the Dionisio San Román bookshop in Calle 54, Ciénfuegos, just at the top of the main avenue. Anyone witnessing this flow of people would think that in the city there was not only a thirst for reading material but also a lot of interesting books to acquire. In reality, these people are only going there in search of a snack in the shop’s cafeteria. If the cultural health of a city and its citizens is measured by its bookshops, then Ciénfuegos has much to be worried about.

The floor above the shop, initially planned as a conference/meeting room, has ended up sharing rented space with the independent cafeteria. Depending on the style of coffee you purchase there they can cost between 70 and 200 pesos. They’re nothing special but they still attract more attention from passers by than the “sparse and limited variety of books on offer” at the Dionisio San Román bookshop – says Jesús, to 14ymedio.

The man from Ciénfuegos has “a literary curiosity” that can very seldom be satisfied in the local state run bookshop. “Most of their books are about politics, Marxism, economics or similar themes. They also have locally written poetry, but anyone looking for quality fiction or texts which explore areas beyond the provincial will have to look elsewhere”, he explains. Even so, Jesús visits Dionisio San Román at least once a month on the off chance that some “little gem” might somehow appear. continue reading

Depending on the style of coffee you purchase there they can cost between 70 and 200 pesos. / 14ymedio

“When there is no paper you can’t publish, so logically there are no books to sell. The result: employees on minimum wage sitting around waiting the whole day for home time to arrive”, he says. According to Jesús the state bookshop never had a “golden age”, but at least, a few years ago, there were still some quality books around, and authors who were interested in publishing with Ciénfuegos publishers Mecenas and Reina del Mar.

The shop itself can’t escape the general crisis either. Inside the building the workers have to live with power cuts and suffocating heat, not being being able to switch on the air conditioning because of “company policy”. What often happens, explains Jesús, is that they have to go outside into the doorway with a table and a few sample books, to escape from the high temperatures.

Any attempts at promotion don’t guarantee sales either. With the poor level of enthusiasm shown by the sales staff, “you don’t feel the desire to buy anything”, Jesús adds. The Cienfuegero has a theory about the workers’ weariness: “because it’s an entity subsidised by the Cuban state, everyone earns the same, even when they don’t sell so much as a postcard”.

Any attempts at promotion don’t guarantee sales either. / 14ymedio

“I remember when they used to have clubs and literary get-togethers, or they put on conferences. Now the only thing left in the bookshop is metal shelving with the same repeated book copies to fill up the empty space. I don’t think they have even fifty titles on display and the majority haven’t changed since the last Book Fair. And as for the prices, they’re too high, given the low quality of the books and the low buying power of customers. In the Calle San Carlos bookshop any old book can cost up to a thousand pesos”, he says.

In that shop, administrated also by the Provincial Centre for Books and Literature in Ciénfuegos, they sell used books. However, here there is a repeat, on a smaller scale, of the same problems of the other shop. “A few days ago I was surprised to see a long queue in front of that bookshop, but then I realised they were actually queuing for the nearby Cadeca (currency exchange)”. Although some university students and local writers go into the shop, it’s usually the case that whoever goes in there comes out empty-handed.

Translated by Ricardo Recluso

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Sick People Who Believe in ‘Free Health Care’ Wait Months for Treatment in Cienfuegos, Cuba

“It doesn’t matter if you make an appointment, because the doctors’ friends and family members have preference”

Patients crowd for hours at the hospital waiting to be seen. / 14ymedio

14ymedio, Julio César Contreras, Cienfuegos, 4 October 2024 — Cienfuegos/In the Dr. Gustavo Aldereguía Lima hospital in Cienfuegos the word “patient” has taken on a new definition. Amid corridors flooded with people and without enough healthcare workers to deal with the sick, the wait for a simple consultation can take several hours.
“My father, who helped build this place, has serious eye problems. More than a year ago he was diagnosed with cataracts in both eyes and, since then, we are on a waiting list of patients who need to undergo surgery,” explains Nancy, who went to the center with the old man at 7:00 am this Friday and, four hours later, he still had not been able to enter the consultation room.

The woman knows very well why, at the Gustavo Aldereguía Hospital and at any other health center on the island, patients treated “through the proper channels” take so long to be diagnosed. “It is an open secret. It doesn’t matter if you make an appointment, because the doctors’ friends and relatives have preference,” he says.

Consultations are held on the second and third floors, where access is difficult for the disabled. / 14ymedio

“Ahead of us have entered, without being called from the list, those who can afford to give the doctors bags with all kinds of products. The ophthalmologists themselves come looking for them to attend to them quickly. But I’m not leaving here today without setting the exact date for my dad’s operation. It doesn’t matter if they tell me that the equipment is continue reading

broken or the operating room is out of order,” says Nancy with determination.

In the Cienfuegos hospital, which is a general and teaching hospital, outpatient consultations are held on the second and third floors, making access difficult for people with physical disabilities. “Since the elevator was broken, I had to ask two men to lift me, wheelchair included. The dermatologist who treats me hasn’t arrived yet so the day will be long,” says Dionisio, an elderly man who had both his legs amputated due to diabetes.

Since last June, the Cienfuegos native has been trying to get a doctor’s appointment to check a rash accompanied by skin depigmentation. “All the steps I took were in vain, including those I took through the association of the disabled to which I belong. I had no choice but to present myself without any recommendation other than my nationality, since the health system should be free and with quality for all Cubans. I hope I can have it treated before it’s too late,” he emphasizes.

Dionisio is aware that his treatment will be far from easy in the midst of the country’s crisis.

Dionisio is aware that his treatment will be far from easy in the midst of the country’s crisis. “To begin with, it will be a challenge to get good care because from me they are not going to get more than a “Thank you.” Then, there is the situation with the lack of medications. The doctor gives the prescription and you have to get the medicine however you can. Not to mention that the skin creams are not available. What are the options for those of us who have no family to send us drugs from abroad, nor do we have enough money to buy them in the informal market,” he asks.

Nancy, who has already wasted the entire morning in the waiting room, notices one of the ophthalmologists in a room attending to inpatients and hurries to question him. “Many people here saw the doctor without waiting for him to come to the consultation. This is an every-person-for-themselves situation, so necessity forces consideration for others to the side, unfortunately.” Taking her father by the arm, the woman is certain it is useless to continue in the outpatient clinic waiting for a miracle that will surely not happen, but the doctor’s answer brings her back to reality. “Madam, I consult in three hospitals and I only come here on Fridays. I have a lot of people to attend to in front of you.”

Translated by LAR

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Cuba: Cienfuegos’ Imago Shopping Center Does Not Even Have Water

Shelves are empty at the hard-currency stores managed by the military-run CIMEX corporation.

The Imago Shopping Center is yet another example of the failure of Cuba’s hard-currency stores. / 14ymedio

14ymedio, Julio César Contreras, Cienfuegos, 9 October 2024 — “I’m on my break now. I came here hoping to buy a beverage of some kind as a pick-me-up but the staff at Cafe Cubita told me they don’t even have drinking water,” complains Laura, an intensive care doctor at the Cienfuegos Provincial Hospital, who has had nothing to eat or drink for the last three hours of her very strenuous shift.

The Imago Shopping Center, located on Fifth of September Avenue, sits in a prime location, ideal for attracting customers. Nevertheless, it suffers from a problem common to these stores: a widespread shortage of merchandise.

Initially set up to sell home appliances and electrical equipment, MLC* stores were supposed to generate income for the government in the form of hard currency, which had been flowing to Panama and Mexico along with the mules who travelled there en masse in order to buy consumer goods for resale on the island. Two years later, in the middle of the pandemic, the regime decided to broaden their scope to include groceries and cleaning supplies. The decision generated so much public outrage that, among the demands of the San Isidro Movement, was the elimination of this policy.

“The ones in charge are not interested in making money. They have to be totally incompetent to keep running things like this”

The stores are managed by CIMEX and TRD, retail conglomerates run by GAESA, a business consortium under the control of the Cuban military. According to signatories to a petition demanding their closure, the emergence of MLCs has led to segregation and exclusion due to their prohibitively high prices. The stores also require customers to pay for continue reading

merchandise with a currency to which not everyone had access. The former economics minister — the recently fired Alejandro Gil Fernández — publicly claimed that, while not desirable, the situation was necessary to solve the island’s hard-currency crisis, that it would curb inflation and that it would be temporary. As it turns out, the stores have lasted longer than Gil Fernández’ term in office, though they are no longer a solution even for those with the deepest pockets.

“It’s hard to believe they can’t even sell you a sandwich,” continues Laura. “The ones in charge are not interested in making money. They have to be totally incompetent to keep running things like this.” She notes that customer service is also bad, that the air conditioning system is not working properly — allowing the stifling hot air from the street to enter the building through the front doors — and that the cafe’s level of cleanliness leaves much to be desired.

“It’s outrageous that there’s no service at all in this place and yet they pay employees for giving customers poor service, which is all they do,” she complains. The tables and chairs at the cafe’s front door are occupied by people passing through, who sit there for a few minutes to consume items they have bought someplace else.

People sit at the center’s outdoor tables, eating food they have bought elsewhere. / 14ymedio

The cafe is not the only business in terminal condition. Inside the retail complex, which is managed by CIMEX, is a business called El Rápido. A sign on the door announces it is “open 24 hours” but, paradoxically, it is closed to the public.

“When my grandson saw a game table, he wanted to go in of course. I had to explain to him that, in reality, you can’t go in because there’s nothing to buy,” says Gustavo, a resident of Palmira who is passing through the city. “He then asked me if the workers there were liars. What was I supposed to say?” he asks.

To top it off, Gustavo says he saw one of the cafe’s employees sitting on a of a chair outside the cafe selling packs of cigarettes to an acquaintance. “Who knows how many businesses here force their workers to sell things ’under the table’ because they cannot survive on the wages they’re being paid. It’s a shame the place is so neglected, that it’s run by a company that doesn’t provide the necessary resources to keep it operating,” he says.

One of the few places that does seem to be doing well is a store that sells jams, groceries and even meats. The line of customers outside gives the impression that, finally, here is a place with things to sell when, it fact, it is the store’s small size that explains the artificially large crowd size.

“Everything is crammed into a few square meters in a very unattractive way and the prices are the same as in most stores of this type. Then there is the rudeness of the employees. They act as though they’re doing us a favor rather just doing their job,” says Diana, a nursing student.

In terms of customer service, her experience could not have been worse. “I had to leave the line several times because the woman in charge of the bag check supposedly had to step out for a moment. She took so long that a line formed, with people waiting just to pick up their things or put them away,” complains Diana. “Unfortunately, it seems mistreating customers is the common denominator in all these places, with inefficiency being the main cause of all the erratic behavior. It shows a total lack of respect for the consumer who, to add insult to injury, is paying very high prices for their merchandise.”

A line outside the only business that has things to sell gives the impression that it is doing well when, in fact, it is only an indication of the store’s small size. / 14ymedio

Furthermore, no one understands why, if this store has food and drinks to sell, the center’s food service establishments lack provisions. “Why doesn’t CIMEX guarantee them a stable supply of products to boost sales and take advantage of the influx of customers?” asks one of them.

One of the few places that seems to be doing well is a store that sells jams, groceries and even meats. The line of customers outside gives the impression that, finally, here is a place with things to sell when, in fact, it is the store’s small size that explains the artificially large crowd size.

When price controls on six essential products took effect in July, thousands of Cubans raised their voices to ask a question that as truthful as it was ironic: “Why didn’t they also cap prices at the MLC stores?” The answer was obvious, and it is not just about who owns these stores. It is because their shelves are empty.

*Translator’s note: Spanish-language abbreviation for “moneda libremente convertible,” or freely convertible currency, typically dollars and euros.

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In Cienfuegos, Cuba, They Take Advantage of the Work Day To Stand in Line

Line at a Pan-American store, in Cienfuegos / 14ymedio

14ymedio, Julio César Contreras, Cienfuegos, 7 October 2024 — Surviving in Cuba is a matter of strategy, money and a lot of time to dedicate to hunting for food and basic necessities. Cienfuegos is no exception. And, if at noon there is nothing left to buy in the shops, the normal thing is that during working hours, especially in the mornings, workers run out in search of food, and State companies are left without a soul.

The counterpart of empty institutions are the crowded lines that form in the portals of stores and premises of all kinds. Bakeries, ATMs and agricultural markets have the longest ones.

“The only thing I’ve done at work today is sign the entry card. I left thinking I would solve things quickly, and here I am, waiting to see if I can pick up the bank card I ordered three months ago,” says Tamara, irritated. Although she is at the branch of the Banco Popular de Ahorro, on San Carlos Street, she already has her eye on another line at the La Princesa market to buy cookies for her children’s school snacks. “It’s impossible to do two things at the same time, and when it comes to choosing, I give priority to mine,” she says. continue reading

Tamara has managed to buy the cookies at the market, but the line at the bank is still stalled / 14ymedio

The lines do not originate just from the demand for sought-after products. It also results from the slowness of the salesclerks and officials, who take “all the time in the world” to attend to people. According to Tamara, excessive delays to serve the public are a common denominator, and it’s the same at the box office of the Terry Theater, on the waiting list of the bus terminal, or in the pizzeria of El Prado. “The place may vary. What does not change, in any case, is the terrible customer service.”

Standing in line in the city begins long before eight in the morning. Juan Carlos knows this very well; for some months, he has been saving places in the line outside the Cadeca (Currency Exchange) for those who are willing to pay the price of his time. “I take advantage of the fact that I work as a custodian near here. If I have to spend the early morning awake anyway, there’s nothing better than looking for some extra pesos by helping others,” he explains. He gets no less than 4,000 pesos every time he spends the night awake.

Juan Carlos is dedicated to saving places in the line outside the Cadeca / 14ymedio

Juan Carlos recognizes that, during the day, it is inevitable to be trapped in a purchase or procedure that seems endless. “I leave the Cadeca with a little money in my pocket, but then I arrive, for example, in the post office line to collect my mother’s retirement, or I stand in a very long line to have five or six scoops of ice cream at Coppelia, and the day goes on like that,” he says.

For her part, Tamara has managed to buy the cookies at the market, but the line at the bank is still stalled. “Several people arrived here after me and resolved it quickly with friends who work there. Then you realize that many people sneak in front of you claiming pregnancies, physical impediments, surgeries and all kinds of excuses, and to hell with the rest of us who have been waiting for hours.” Tamara looks at her watch with concern. “My boss doesn’t know that I left, and I’ve been here for a long time,” she explains.

“You come to realize that many people sneak in front of you claiming pregnancies, physical impediments, surgeries and all kinds of excuses” / 14ymedio

When the sun beats down on people who are tired of waiting, a custodian leaves the bank with an announcement that everyone can guess. In other nearby places, the lines are also gradually dissolving, disintegrating from the pressure to return to work or because the products ran out and the shops and markets are closing. “It was to be expected that they would cut the power at any moment. I have lost three hours, and now I will have to come back another day,” says Tamara, resigned. “I should go back to my job, but there won’t be power there either. So, the best thing I can do is go home and take care of things there. Tomorrow will be another day.”

Translated by Regina Anavy

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