Category: Rebeca Monzo

A friend who lives on J Street in Vedado, near the monument to Don Quixote, told me that a man she knows in the neighborhood told her the following story of something that had happened. It turns out that this man, already older, lives in a room in what was once a family house, and not having access to any sanitary services he takes care of his needs on a newspaper which he then wraps up and takes to a trash container to throw it away. He was leaving his room with the little packet in hand to get rid of it, when a passing cyclist snatched it out of his hand. He sat down on the curb of the sidewalk to laugh like crazy just imagining the tremendous shock that would overcome the thief on wheels, when he saw the contents of the takings from the robbery.

My friend L, currently living in the United States, told me that when her daughter went on vacation to my planet, she went to the Basilica of San Francisco in Old Havana, to attend a concert. When she had almost reached the plaza, a boy on a bicycle tried to snatch her bag, but she clung to the strap to try to stop him and another rider, who was following behind the first, was the one who finally took the spoils. She recalled that her mother, before emigrating, also had a similar incident with a boy on a bicycle.

Dani was walking along the Avenida de Carlos III, looking for Calle Oquendo. She was proudly wearing her brand new sunglasses, just brought into the country. At that time, when looking cautiously to the side of traffic to cross the street, she felt an itch on her face and was perplexed to see a cyclist carrying away in his right hand her pair of glasses. All she had left was the memory of having had them, plus a few scratches on her face.

These thieves are usually at the exits of the stores, usually in pairs, as if innocently talking. When you leave the place, bags in hand, they come to ask directions, or the time, or they simply bump the person in question and then, while they distract them by offering an apology, along comes another person and, BAM!, they grab their bags and pedal like hell.

So, if you get excited by the idea of coming to my planet for a vacation, keep your eyes on the bikes! Don’t let it come to close because, though it’s not a question of death, they might leave you like a plucked chicken.

September 24, 2010

While reading the document Restructuring the Workforce, and once again going over the list of self-employment trades to be authorized, I could not stop thinking about two fundamental things. First, how is it possible to dismiss more than five hundred thousand people of working age, and to tell them, as if they were simpletons, they can join the private sector. What private sector would that be? The document does not make this clear. Would not it be more reasonable to first create a real and strong private sector, properly legislated, without falling into these almost insurmountable traps, which is what these exorbitant taxes are? On the other hand, when I read, one by one, the trades reflected in the paper, I felt indignation and embarrassment. Even in the Middle Ages no self-respecting government would be able to develop such a list such as that.

This, as I already expressed earlier, will bring many social problems. Most likely well be a possible increase in crime: assault, robbery, blackmail, to name a few, directly related to the economy; not to mention the possible increase in the suicide rate which, although the numbers are handled in the strictest confidence, is already among the highest in Latin America. This, as I read recently in a great article that came to me in the mail, is putting the cart before the horse.

In my humble opinion, I think that once again they are trying to entertain people and sweeten the plight ahead somewhat. We already did something similar, at earlier times when popular discontent manifested itself. The result of this restructuring without creating the preconditions for it is something very like throwing more fuel on the fire.

September 22, 2010

Tomorrow, Sunday, we will be celebrating the sixtieth anniversary of our TV on my planet. We came after the United States of America, the first country to have this technology.

One of the pioneers of this new communication medium was Gaspar Pumarejo, who introduced it into our country and into the family home, turning it into a large studio for the presentation of programs. He was undoubtedly the pioneer and the one who most contributed to its development along with the Mestre brothers.

In the fifties, our TV had reached a high level and had the most advanced technology of the time. There were many programs which established the standard. The subsequent increase in advertising and design are inextricably linked to television. They pulled off some stunts, like broadcasting major league baseball live and direct (using a plane flying over our skies to catch the signal), to the delight of a people who, for the most part, love this sport.

Today, the television in our planet is not even a shadow of what it once was. Tedious, boring, vulgar, politicized to the maximum. Messages and slogans abound between program and program, which causes many like me to use it primarily to watch rented movies. When you manage to an interesting, well executed program they repeat it over and over because of a lack of financial resources to constantly come up with new things to show us.

As José Saramago used to say, “It’s time to howl, because if we get let ourselves be carried away by the powers that govern us, and we do nothing to counter them, we can say we deserve what we get.”

Congratulations to the pioneers of our television, and all those who delivered it to is with much love, wherever they are now.

October 23, 2010

A very young friend, who recently graduated as a doctor, was traveling by bus with her boyfriend, also a doctor. They both were going to their respective workplaces, when all of a sudden she felt a burning in her neck. The shock of the assault paralyzed her, but not her boyfriend, who threw himself off the bus and ran after the thief. He was joined in the chase by two more young men and between the three of them they managed to capture the criminal. Hearing the screams, a policeman showed up, handcuffed the thief and returned the gold chain to the victim.

Days later the young doctor was summoned to the police station closest to these events, where she was asked to withdraw the charge. They had investigated the thief and found him to have no previous charges and to come from a good family. She told them she wanted to proceed with the complaint so that the situation would not be repeated. Then the prosecutor came to talk with her to try to get her to forget all about it, telling her she was partially at fault for being well dressed and wearing a gold chain, which aroused the greed of young people who didn’t have the means to dress as she did, and that was why she was robbed.

My doctor friend, very serious and offended, answered them, “So if a woman is raped or abused, she is also at fault for being beautiful and sexy? Does that mean the victim is the guilty one?” So things go on my planet; imagine for yourself when half a million people — forgive me, I mean victims — are unemployed.

October 20, 2010

Although the worn-out model hasn’t worked, not even for the country which recommended it, there are people who believe in the reincarnation of the liberators, and insist on implanting it, despite its failures, one after another, where they are copying it, they don’t react. Sure, there are those who took more than seventy years to realize it, others have taken more than half a century, but it seems that they don’t realize (unless it has slipped their minds), that they no longer know how to reverse such a great disaster.

This morning, listening to the shortwave, my blood froze, listening to the new measures taken, in great haste (before January) by the reincarnated one; when the new deputies are debuted it will be very difficult to act.

I thought, how is it possible, having examples so close, to insist on repeating what doesn’t work. But I was thinking of the ordinary people. These others think only of themselves; to perpetuate themselves in power at all costs. Then I realized that the famous outdated model worked very well for them. It doesn’t matter what industries fail, that negligence extends the length and breadth of the country, that violence reigns in the streets, that the press is muted by censorship. The only thing that matters to the reincarnated one is that his power endures.

October 13, 2010

Today’s most important news was the rescue of the 33 Chilean miners who were trapped in a mine nearly half a mile down for sixty-nine days.

If the work of the Chilean government, sparing no expense or technology, has been commendable, the attitude of the miners themselves has been fantastic; these men who grew up in difficult circumstances have managed to stay calm and even good-natured. They have also constantly received the support of families and friends, who have camped outside the mine and stayed, without moving, giving them encouragement and much needed hope.

Today is undoubtedly a great day for those families who will soon all be together again, safe and sound. The great efforts of the rescuers should also be noted, they have risked their own lives to go down and help in the ascent. Mario Gomez, “the GPS” as he is affectionately called by his colleagues, has done a great job because of his deep knowledge and experience of the mine. Tonight there will be celebrations and rejoicing in all Chilean homes.

Just yesterday was the birthday of Pedri, one of my two beloved nephews, half Chilean, half Cuban. Early in the morning I sent him my best wishes, saying that from now on his birthday would be inextricably linked to the day that a great feat was accomplished in his native country: the rescue of the miners of Copiapo.

Impressed, before so much wisdom, integrity, technological organization, and moral, psychological, technical and other support, I could not contain myself: “Oh My God!” how great it is that on my planet there are no mines nor miners!

October 14, 2010

Today, with the sun cracking the stones, I went to Old Havana for an appointment at the Commerce Market with the Spanish Foreign Ministry, to start the paperwork for my naturalization as a Spanish citizen.*

Since they called me three weeks ago to set up the appointment, I started to worry and speculate. They never tell you by phone what they need from you.

This time the line, more organized every day thanks to experience (it’s going on the second year now), went faster.

When my turn came, the clerk, certainly very friendly, handed me the paper with the request. It confirmed my suspicions. They are asking for the same thing as last time: A paper proving my grandfather came to Cuba. In early June I requested that document from the National Archives. (See the post: Search For Your Grandpa in the National Archives.)

I called the Archives again (as I do every week) before going to the embassy, and the answer was the same: “Mami, we still haven’t done the research,” the bureaucrat told me. The saddest part is that it’s already paid for because they charge in advance.

On returning home, overwhelmed by frustration, I remembered that a reader of my blog asked me for a photo of the El Template (The Temple) restaurant, so for him and for you. I am including photos of it, and also of the famous Temple with the well-known Ceiba tree.

Translator’s note: Spain has offered citizenship to any Cuban who can prove a Spanish grandparent.

October 1, 2010

On my planet the sky dawned today the color of winter. It looks like when a cold front comes. Still hot, but there is a breeze and the sun is less aggressive. Magnificent day to go out and do things.

Passing Zapata and 12th, opposite the cemetery entrance, all the activity called my attention. It looked like they were preparing for an event. I didn’t pay too much attention, because I am hoping I am going to hear it first by shortwave.

Upon arriving at the Immigration officer, to ask them to search for my other grandfather, I met a friend in the line. She came to apply for a Permit to Reside Abroad (PRE), and she showed me the front page, all in black, of the Granma newspaper she had in her hands. Suddenly my heart leaped. Has it happened and I haven’t heard. Impossible, I would notice in the street, and all along the way, except at the cemetery, everything seemed normal. When I read it, I was afraid. They have issued a decree establishing October 6 of every year as Victims of State Terrorism Day, for all the Empire’s acts of terrorism we have been subjected to.

Gentlemen, you cannot assign terrorism to one name. Nor democracy.

Terrorism was the plane in the Barbados, terrorism is the ETA, terrorism is the FARC, terrorism was the twin towers, terrorism is Al Qaueda. Everything that wants to impose through acts of force, that involves the death of innocent people, whomever does it and wherever it comes from. To claim the lives of others, destroy public buildings, plant bombs, kidnap, impose ideas and social models by force, in my humble opinion, this is terrorism. A sky the color of mourning, like the terrorist want to impose, is not the same as a sky the color of winter, like today.

October 6, 2010

Those childish and youthful dreams were a long time ago, when we were excited to see the flag and hearing the first notes of the national anthem could move us to tears.

I remember years ago, being in Madrid at the International Crafts Fair, with some of my students and I heard in the distance the first notes of our anthem. I trembled, felt my throat go dry and, excusing myself from them, left to go where those first notes were echoing. I was dressed in campaign mode: jeans, t-shirt and sneakers to be able to run between the different pavilions. Suddenly, when the music great louder and clearer, I saw standing in front the then Cuban ambassador to Spain, with the doctor who had spent a lot of time taking care of my mom. We were both surprised. He very elegant, his wife like she’d stepped from the pages of Vogue. I was embarrassed but noticing my confusion he gave me a hug that surprised everyone present, then, when I’d regained my composure, he asked me an uncomfortable question, “And what about you, what are you doing here?”

“It’s a long story,” I answered, while saying my goodbyes and getting away.

Later, back home, I remembered those verses by Martí that were always my among my favorites:

“The mother love of the Country is not a ridiculous love of the land, nor of the grass our plants walk upon. It is the invincible hatred of anyone who oppresses it, it is the eternal rancor of anyone who attacks it.”

To feel oneself Cuban, to be Cuban, it is not necessary to live in Cuba (an absurd criteria they would like to impose upon our culture). To be Cuban is an innate condition, incorporated into the depths of our feelings, there is nothing nor anyone that can stop it, no decree can exclude it, they would have to tear out our soul. My country is my family, my children, my friends, my neighborhood, the place where I was born. Country is much more than an anthem and a flag.

October 9, 2010

I’m not a photographer but I love photography. I have a son who is one, and a very good one, with many awards here on my planet. When I leaned out the window a few days ago and saw these colors, I ran to find my little camera and tightening the strap around my wrist I pushed it carefully through the blinds to capture the moment. Incredibly, as I pressed the shutter, I thought of him, of my other son, of my beautiful granddaughters, whom I barely know, of my friends who have left, and it saddened me not to be able to share this impressive vision with them.

When I think that they had to leave and miss these sunsets (even though they may enjoy others), simply for having lost here, in the land of their birth, the horizon, I feel something inside me breaking.

To travel, to go to live in another country, to stretch other links, to return, and to leave again, is the most natural thing in the world, but to have to leave what is yours indefinitely, because you have no future there, no options, this is not fair. Even more so when you grow up hearing it said in school and in the media that everything that was done was to make a better future for you.

October 6, 2010

View of the model that was inside one of the twin towers.

I took this photo when I visited the towers in January 2001. I found myself in that city, a guest of a friend from my adolescence, who, on hearing I was in the United States for a personal exposition, wanted me to visit.

A few months later, back in my planet, I received an urgent call to turn on the TV. At first I thought it was a run-through for a movie. My brain couldn’t believe what my eyes were seeing. What horror! What helplessness! What sick minds could have been capable of carrying out such a crime. Later we knew. Almost three thousand innocent people died, many of them of Hispanic origin, as well as other nationalities. No strangers to a generous country which has always welcomed immigrants of every ethnicity. No one deserves to be the target of terrorism, the United States didn’t deserve such horror. Crimes such as these must never be repeated.

My respects to those strong men and women who have made that Nation great.

September 11, 2010

It turns out that now, after the unexpected declaration that our model can’t be exported, that it doesn’t even work for us. An answer confirmed by the journalist who conducted the interview, because he couldn’t get over his astonishment. It happens that this wasn’t true, rather he was referring to the capitalist model, which has just been proven to work, at least much better than the old one. Nothing, as usual, changed one thing for another, trying to complicate everything.

This is something that has been happening for many years. The character has not changed at all, the ones who have changed are us. Before we swallowed everything without saying a word, and now we have learned to question everything. As always, we have gone from one extreme to the other. Not on a whim, simply because we’ve stopped believing in him. Some sooner, others later, but in general, no one believes. I think we don’t even believe in what he says.

The truth is that he treats us like we are kids or simple-minded. He tries to keep us asleep with old and worn out lies. And don’t even talk to me about the “coconut” (the war). We’ve been waiting fifty-one years for the enemy to attack us. And justifying, based on that, all the more and more harsh measures imposed on our people: a conflagration would justify everything. Not to mention it would bury in its fallout the failure of the famous model.

September 13, 2010

Recently the talk on my planet is the imminent dismissal of half a million workers who are on staff performing work which, in reality, could be done by half as many people.

In the seventies, there was a large decrease in the staffing at some of the central agencies. At that time it was given the euphemistic name of rationalization. It reduced the payrolls. Those workers who were available, or surplus, as they preferred to call them, found work in other workplaces, regardless of the knowledge or experience acquired. In reality, it was no more than that, moving them from one place and putting them on another. Years later the number of new workers in each agency, is twice what it was.

Later, in the nineties, with the investment of foreign capital, some could go work for the newly created companies, bettering their economic status. It was a small privileged sector, envied by the other workers. We all wanted to work in some company, even just to mop the floors. It didn’t matter what the job was, the thing was to be in contact with those unattainable dollars.

Now they say that the “redundant” workers can go to work in the private sector. And I wonder, in what private sector? Because up to now, outside a few private restaurants, the paladares, what’s left? What are their options?

Wouldn’t it be more reasonable to create and pass the first official labor law for the private sector, its regulations and options, before this mass layoff that will affect three times as many people, as for every individual who loses their job, there are at least two or three family members who depend on them.

What was the previous government thinking when they increased these payrolls, putting three people in a position that really only needed one. What I believe that we are once again turning the wheel.

September 17, 2010