Category: Rebeca Monzo

First Anniversary / Rebeca Monzo

Patchwork, by Rebeca

It’s been just over a year since, visiting the home of our friend the poet, his wife told me about some Yoani and an Academy for bloggers she was wanting to open. At that time, it seemed to me my friend was speaking Chinese.

I’d heard something about Yoani. From time to time she was on the news on the shortwave. I never imagined I’d meet her, much less have the privilege of being accepted as a student. But, days later, I joined an enthusiastic group that made me feel young again.

My first post, Wil wild Centro Habana, came out on the blog Bad Handwriting, thanks to the generosity of its owner. I didn’t have my own until early January of last year, when I appeared for the first time on the home page of Cuban Voices. I can assure you it moved me very much.

When I launched my second piece, El valle de los caídos, on my own blog, I never imagined the year to come and how much satisfaction it would give me. I won’t deny that at first I had to overcome a lot of fear, but it was worth the payback.

To Yoani, Reinaldo, Miriam, Claudia and Dr. Vallín, who taught us such excellent classes and workshops, to all who supported us, and to you my readers, I offer my most sincere thanks for helping me to arrive at my first anniversary in the alternative blogosphere of my beloved planet.

January 5 2011

Mental Lapse / Rebeca Monzo

Once again, my friend Maricarme gave me a reason to write a post.

She was very tired, for she has spent her time, much like the majority of the women in my planet, cleaning the house, organizing wardrobes and sideboards, dusting off decorations, and stretching out the little bit of cash she has just to be able to greet the new year the way it should be.

She wanted to make a good cold salad for the 31st. Worn out from so much end-of-year cleaning, she went out on a search and capture for food. As she did so, she passed by a place where they sell pork meat (the only one that does) and out of the corner of her eye she saw the pork chunks, and this image stayed in her brain. When she arrived at the hard currency kiosk, without realizing her mistake she asked the attendant, “Do you have meat?”

The dispatcher was astounded and responded, “No ma’am, nothing like that”.

So she asked, “By any chance do you have a can of fruit”?

“No ma’am, not that either,” and he continued, “but look you should go home, take a good shower, go to sleep for a while, and later, when you’re more refreshed, you can come back here and I’ll be glad to help you.”

My friend tells me that, upon returning to her house, she could not control her laughter for the scene she had just created.

Translated by Raul G.

December 30 2010

The Pork’s Leg / Rebeca Monzo

Cristina was all busy preparing the leg of pork she had struggled for, after putting up with an excruciating line. She jealously guarded a secret family recipe.

Christmas Eve arrived and Cristina presented the dish that she was so proud of, together with the usual black beans and white rice. Everyone loved the roast. “My friend, please tell me what your secret is,” and “Why do you cut off the stump from the leg? Does it have anything to do with the recipe?”

“Look, I’m not going to share the recipe, but don’t take it personally, but about the little stump, the truth is that I don’t know why it is done that way, my mother did it like that and she says that’s how my grandmother did it. Better we should ask her.”

Days later when they went to grandma’s house, the famous little leg and its amputation came up in the conversation.

Faced with the unusual question, the grandmother, who was very old already but who has perfect memory, responded with an angelic smile and declared, “My girl, there is no mystery here! What happened was that the oven in my kitchen was very small so we had to cut the leg so it would fit. What I don’t understand is why you and your mom still do the same, even though you have larger ovens!”

Translated by Rick Schwag

December 25, 2010

Guidelines* on Christmas Eve / Rebeca Monzo

Today, on the night before Christmas Eve, the farmers markets are full of people looking for pork, yuca, and vegetables, trying to put together, as best as possible, tomorrow’s dinner.

When I came back from the market with heavy bags (that I had to take there, since, there aren’t any), two pretty, young girls were walking ahead of me, talking loudly about the topic of the moment: the January lay-offs, what people here are calling the month of terror. One was telling the other about the injustice of laying of, now, the great number of people who are going to be unemployed. The other said, emphasizing: “As always it’s going to get out of hand for those who are left, who are going to have to do the work of of the two or three people who’ve been fired from their department, for the same salary.”

“Imagine,” said the other, “It’s not our fault they inflated the payroll, so they could tell the world that there’s no unemployment on our planet. So now, not only do I have to type, clean the bathrooms, hand out the papers and update the bulletin board — how wonderful! — and all this for a salary that isn’t enough to begin with. AND, I have to do it on Christmas Eve and New Years! Already those guidelines* are making me feel bad, really bad!

OK my friend, now you know, take it easy and Merry Christmas!

*Translator’s note: This post contains a play on words that is not directly translatable. “Linimentos” (used in the original title) means “liniments” — that is ointments. “Lineamientos” means “guidelines.” The Guidelines (Lineamientos) for the 6th Communist Party Congress have been released, and the pun in the text is based on the fact that Cubans are apparently pronouncing “lineamientos” as “linimentos.”

Translated by Rick Schwag

December 23, 2010

Now We Are Really On Our Way / Rebeca Monzo

The discourse is once again repeated. The criticisms start to dissolve, without any first names or last names, but implying all of us, or all of us except a certain few. In sum, the same situation as always.

Hearing all the latest calls for austerity, the reading of the Guidelines, the imminent unemployment rate, etc., reminded me of something Cicero, the grand philosopher, once said:

“The budget should balance itself. Treasure should be re-stocked. Public debt should be reduced. Arrogance among those who take on important public roles should be moderated and controlled. And foreign aid to other countries should be eliminated in order to save Rome from bankruptcy. The people must once again learn how to work, as opposed to living at the expense of the State.”

Year 55 B.C.

I ask myself, now who are we going to blame?

Translated by Raul G.

December 21, 2010

Days of Love and Pardon / Rebeca Monzo

We experience a lot of emotions these days. I don’t know if by tradition, or by contamination, because although the authorities on my planet don’t want this, it underlies the atmosphere and enters into our hearts.

Yesterday I was running errands in Old Havana, which I consider to be an oasis in our urban desert. What called my attention was to see that, unlike in other years, neither the streets nor the shops were decorated. Christmas trees could be seen while walking past the fancy restaurants and hotels, almost hidden from the eyes of passersby. As if the city was embarrassed by dressing up. It bothered me, because indeed this was the only part of the capital where we could breathe the Christmas air. Someone told me that was due to a decree that established a ban on these ornaments. I am not sure, but there is something to this, because it would be precisely the historic center that would show off the beautiful decorations and lights of this season.

I think it is a mistake repeated ad nauseam, to prohibit these expressions of joy, since the population increasingly manages to decorate houses and gardens, despite the lack of resources. This has become a challenge. I, from my blog, join all those souls who keep alive the spirit of Christmas and raise the toast that one day soon, all Cubans can join in an embrace of love and forgiveness.

Merry Christmas!

Translated by ricote

December 18, 2010

Holding Our Breath / Rebeca Monzo

For a long time, here on my planet, we have been waiting to see what might happen. We can never plan anything in our lives because we are not certain of being able to achieve anything no matter how much effort we make.

Another December 24th is approaching, although the stores are still empty. The long daily pilgrimage in search of food wears us out. We have to visit at least two or three markets find enough to make a salad. Not to mention meat (mostly pork), every day less and lower quality.

We, the people on this planet, despite all the daily difficulties, cherish throughout the year the idea of having a decent Christmas Eve. That means, having at least one piece of barbecue pork, some black beans, white rice, some dessert and at least one bottle of wine, even homemade. I don’t think that is so much to ask for. However, this can not be achieved in all households, for this simple meal would cost the following:

About four pounds of pork, thirty-five pesos a pound, would be a hundred and forty pesos.

Two pounds of black beans, at fifteen pesos a pound, would make a total of thirty pesos.

Two pounds of rice at three-fifty a pound, would add another seven, green pepper costs twelve pesos a pound and onion ten. A dessert will not be less than ten pesos: guava paste and soy cream cheese, plus the above mentioned bottle of wine would cost about sixty Cuban pesos. The cost of fuel and so on would make the final tally two-hundred-sixty-nine pesos for a simple and paltry dinner.

If the average salary is about three hundred pesos (which it is not, not precisely), on what can a citizen of this planet count on to have a poor Christmas dinner? Furthermore, what money would remain for the end of the month?

But since this country seems to be miraculous, the people use their ingenuity to get the money, either with the help of friends or family overseas, or by some last minute business. We are just holding our breath, God will have the last word.

Translated by Ricote

December 8, 2010

Wikileaks or Cyberpaparazzi / Rebeca Monzo

It’s amazing to see the pleasure taken by so many people in this kind of cyber-paparrazi, which is very disagreeable and highly inflammable.

On my planet they’re delighted, because in the cross-hairs of this unscrupulous Australian’s telescope is the eternal enemy, front and center.

If there is something efficient here, where nothing works, it’s state secrecy. There is great speculation about anything and everything. Sometimes delicate information filters out, but if it’s not published, that means it never happened. Somebody once said that if Napoleon had had the newspaper Granma available to him, no one ever would have heard of his defeat at Waterloo.

What draws my attention most is that, up to now, everything published basically affects just one country, what a coincidence! It could be an oversight on the part of the attacked, or perhaps it’s that someone is paying the attacker too well. Only time will tell.

It’s general knowledge that the diplomats of every country, without exception, inform their governments about everything they hear. This in no way means that what they say is the official opinion of the country they represent.

Gentlemen, it seems to me that sooner or later this cyber-paparrazism benefits no one. If we suddenly opened every Pandora’s Box there is, it would simply be the end of the world.

In general, any well-balanced person finds the paparazzi’s harassment of famous people greatly annoying. I think they should also reject these media intrigues that try to confront the governments of the civilized world, seeing as this is much more dangerous. In my humble opinion, it’s the equivalent of making a big mess and then leaving it to others to clean up.

December 4 2010

The Road to El Rincon / Rebeca Monzo

Once again this year, our friend, who does not like to go backwards nor drive long distances, invited us to take her in her car to El Rincon and back again, to lunch in a very good paladar – private restaurant – in Santiago de las Vegas, as a gift for my birthday

We left about 10 in the morning to allow a little time in the sanctuary and to investigate a bit, on the way back, looking for onions, as they are very rare and expensive in the city.

I noticed, with pleasure, that after a year, those broken roads had been repaired. We hypothesize that it was because of the proximity to the upcoming Saint Lazarus’ day.

clip image0063During the trip, we were able to observe that many people were walking from the last bus stop in Santiago de las Vegas. Others climbed aboard carts pulled by pairs of horses, carrying twenty people. It was almost a medieval vision. Improvised flower stalls were on both sides of the road, and in the doorways of some of the houses were tables full of plaster images representing Lazarus, Chango, and some other deities. Also the odd stall selling pork, just hanging there, without any refrigeration. The day was cloudy but very hot.

The most pleasant surprise was upon arriving at the church. Newly painted, and with very well tended gardens. I immediately noticed the absence of the sign that was on the front door last year, spelling out some of the prohibitions with regard to dress and conduct, for those who wished to enter the temple. The church was filled with believers, despite being almost twenty days before the awaited celebration. Many young people and children, as well as a large line of people of all ages, were waiting to receive the blessing. The altars of Lazarus and the Virgin of Charity were filled with flowers and candles. A young woman dragged herself to the altar, fulfilling a promise. I was extremely comforted to note that, despite the years of prohibition and shortcomings, the popular faith is growing every day.

Translated by ricote

Translator’s note: December 17th is the day of Saint Lazarus, the Patron Saint of the sick (also known in the Afro Cuban culture as Babalu Aye). Pilgrims come from all over the island, some crawling hundreds of miles, to the Sanctuary of Saint Lazarus, in the El Rincon neighborhood at the southern edge of Havana.

November 28, 2010

Light in the Street…* / Rebeca Monzo

Never before have I thought of the old saying my grandmother repeated so often.

She was a living storehouse of Spanish popular sayings, which we inherited from the mother country and that enrich our culture.

I once heard a professor of Marxist philosophy say that in his saying there were all the categories of philosophy. He always started his classes by spouting off a popular refrain in the classroom.

For many years, on my planet, to be the “outside lamp” has been a daily practice, invoking an unqualified solidarity. Every so often we see a group of doctors on television, departing for some “brother countries” to bring medical care and even medicines. All this is very laudable. As is helping the victims of earthquakes and other cataclysms, but what we can’t lose sight of is that the first duty of a doctor is to “those at home.” Often you have to trek from doctor’s office to doctor’s office, to find a doctor who can give you a prescription, or take your blood pressure. The same thing happens with drugs, most of which are often unavailable.

We can say the same thing about teachers, international aid workers, and even social workers, who are sometimes sent to teach the citizens of other countries, or to change regular light bulbs for energy-saving ones. It’s not as if that is such a hard thing to do. Perhaps it’s because we don’t have any work for them to do. We also have artists who have turned themselves into “street lights” for the official propaganda. The case of the singer Silvio Rodriguez, who appears in a TV spot now advocating for the so-called Five Heroes.

We worry a lot about what happens in other countries, and we turn a blind eye to what is happening right next to us.

That famous saying once again comes to mind: Light in the street, darkness in the house.

Translator’s note: The old expression “Candil de la calle, oscuridad de la casa” (a light in the street, darkness at home) means that a person is effective (“lit up”) away from home and with others, but useless (“dark”) at home.

November 22, 2010

Incredible, But True / Rebeca Monzo

Last night, on the television of my planet I was watching a newscast of Telesur*, which has become fashionable, not for its content (very similar to ours), but rather for the number of images (which we are not accustomed to). I was able to see, almost with amazement, what happened in many of the polling stations in Haiti.

Ballot boxes tampered with and thrown on the floor, with plenty of ballots, some already used by voters, scattered everywhere. Disorder and confusion reigned in the midst of an election. I do not understand how it was possible to conduct it, in the tragic setting of a cholera epidemic and in the aftermath of the earthquake, from which, incredibly, they haven’t begun to recover, despite immense help received from many countries

Moreover I was shocked to hear early on the news, on shortwave, that international agencies were satisfied regarding the outcome of the election.

I asked myself one question immediately. How is it possible that this chaos, called an election, has been approved by the OAS, and not the well-organized and freely carried out, democratic and transparent election in Honduras, with the high participation of the people who expressed their civic will?

*Translator’s note: Telesur is a Pan American Television network, headquartered in Venezuela, which was started in 2005 as a project to present the viewpoint of international and regional leftist intellectuals.

Translated by Ricote

November 30, 2010

Black Friday / Rebeca Monzo

Today in the United States the day is called “Black Friday,” the day after Thanksgiving. All the retailers nationwide attract a great number of women who stand in line in front of the large stores starting in the earliest hours of the morning, to be the first to get the items on sale. Meanwhile, most of the men stay home in front of the television so as not to miss the football games.

It is known as “Black Friday” because the stores earn their highest profits on this day, turning the ink in their account books black.

Here on my planet, the turkeys brought from North Carolina, USA, despite the famous blockade, are dying of laughter in the freezers of the hard currency stores. The cost per pound is about 3.50 in CUC’s or nearly four dollars US. You already know the weight of the smallest turkey. So there is no increase in special odors nor aromas, wafting over from the neighbors’ ovens. Given the truth of what I’ve said here, there is no tradition of it, but how could it possibly take hold with such limitations.

Many people on our planet know of these feasts through illegal CDs that circulate from hand to hand, with the Maria Elvira and Este Noche Tonight programs, which feature program breaks that always make you salivate, with the supermarket ads enticing you to buy a wide variety of products at incredibly low prices, especially as compared to here. So, although as much as the majority of people on my planet would like to enjoy this tradition (everything about this holiday is well received), we find it absolutely impossible, not to mention that we need to save the little bit that we have to celebrate Christmas Eve, which has been imposed by popular will, despite the fact that they have wanted to move the celebration to the beginning of the year.

My husband and I celebrated yesterday by drinking a toast, with the softdrink Tu Cola, in the house of our friend the poet and Regina. Our budget would not stretch any further, but we hugged, and we expressed our gratitude to God, for enjoying with each other such a beautiful friendship. We did the same thing by telephone with friends who have left us on this planet, where every day, not just Fridays, is black with gray stitching.

November 26, 2010

Thanksgiving Day / Rebeca Monzo

Any day is good to give thanks to God or to life, as each person wishes. The important thing is to be thankful for the gifts received. Among them, mainly family and friends; all who have encouraged us during our existence.

The mere fact that you can see the sun every day, is enough to give thanks. Being healthy is most precious and, if we add to it, the joy of having a beautiful family and close friends, I think it’s more than enough to constantly be grateful.

It is true that this beautiful tradition was never adopted on our planet, because before the night obscured everything, we already had many beautiful traditions, but I’m sure that if time had not paralyzed us, today we would have a Thanksgiving Day, because even though it has nothing to do with our history, neither did baseball and we adopted the sport and made it ours.

Therefore, from here, I send warm greetings to everyone who reads me, and I wish for you with all my heart a very Happy Thanksgiving.

November 25, 2010

The Population Pyramid / Rebeca Monzo

Next to my apartment building, in the corner of 41st Street in Nuevo Vedado, there is a kindergarten that has been there for many, many years, My two children, with 12 years between them, attended there.

From my apartment I could hear the children’s voices and laughter, and sometimes, the screams of the seños — the caregivers, who are not teachers. I became accustomed to hearing them and thought they were funny although, on occasion, their nonsense towards those who cared for them bothered me. Suddenly, it was 3 months or more, when the silence and the neglect of the place disturbed me. The area is on a corner which has beautiful trees and because of that, it makes it a highly desirable place to build those nasty low-cost houses that have been spoiling the architecture of the neighbourhood for years.

Yesterday, when I was walking from the market, I was struck by the state of a daycare in this neighbourhood that had been completely abandoned for 2 years. It was said they would remodel it but, far from it, they have left it to drift. Windows are missing glass and in some cases there are only marks where windows used to be. Wild grasses cover the ground all around. There is not a single sign indicating that they are repairing it nor is anyone watching the premises.

On my way home, I encountered a woman who is the director of kindergartens in this neighbourhood. I asked her what will happen with the one next to my house. She told me it couldn’t reopen because there were not enough children. Only two had been registered. She also commented to me that this situation is repeated in all municipal areas as the child population pyramid is very low. As you know, it is the same in Europe. But for different reasons, I replied. She paused and said goodbye. I realised she had memorized the official party line.

November 11, 2010