Charging Cell Phones Becomes the Obsession of Thousands of Camagüeyans Without Electricity

A woman in Havana used her phone to photograph the damage left by Irma. (14ymedio)

14ymedio bigger14ymedio, Ricardo Fernandez, Camaguey, 11 September 2017 – Yosvani has been in a long line for an hour outside the polyclinic, though he is not sick or injured. Hurricane Irma left him with no electricity and he is anxious to recharge his cell phone battery to try to communicate with his friends and family and to find out how they are. Hundreds of residents have been crowding the Camagüey’s emergency rooms since Saturday to benefit from the generators installed there.

Since the lights went out, something more than 48 hours ago, Yosvani knows nothing of his family on Florida beach, one of the places most affected by the powerful hurricane that touched down in Cuban territory as a category five. “I’m going crazy,” he says in the endless line to which everyone arrives with a charger and a mobile phone or a tablet in hand.

“Right now there are two things in this city that are worth their weight in gold: drinking water and a connection where you can charge a cell phone,” says the young man. Everyone in the line has a story of desperation. continue reading

“My parents are from Esmeralda and they say that their world is gone, but I have not even been able to find out if they managed to evacuate in time,” explains Roxana, a woman in Camagüey with two children whose home was also damaged. “We lost many roof tiles and the yard is devastated, with all the trees on the ground,” she laments.

When her turn in line arrives, Roxana opens her bag and takes out three cell phones. “They are from my neighbors, who can’t come here and urgently need to receive calls from their children in Miami,” she says. She plugs in each phone and watches with relief as the battery bars grow. “One, two, three …” she says softly.

Those behind her in line try to rush those in front of the prized outlet. “Don’t wait to fill the battery, just take a little bit and leave something for the rest, everyone has the need to communicate,” complains a man.

A pregnant woman approaches to ask to be be allowed to cut the line, but a hullabaloo ensues. “Everyone here has a different tragedy. The person who doesn’t have missing relatives is a missing person for their family,” complains another who is waiting.

Most of the light roofs in the village of Esmeralda in Camagüey are on the ground after Hurricane Irma. (Courtesy)

The nurses come and go trying to get around the line that fills the hallway. Medical staff dislike the crowds that fill the corridors, but they understand that, for many, electricity is now the best cure, the most sought after remedy.

Between 2004 and 2014, the Government imported 52,292 generators at a value of 1.3 billion dollars. The commissioning of these units was one of the last campaigns promoted by Fidel Castro. Over time, the deterioration and theft of fuel has diminished their use, but in moments of massive electrical cuts they regain their importance.

“Last night they brought in an extension with multiple sockets and the load was so heavy that they burned out the outlet,” complains polyclinic security staffer Rodolfo Ramírez Esquivel to 14ymedio,” so we only allow people to connect equipment and not extensions.”

However, the need to recharge the devices is so pressing that many people ignore the recommendations. “I brought an eight-outlet powerstrip and put it in my backpack with the cellphones of my entire family without them noticing, because outside the backpack I was charging two more,” says a resident.

Everyone fears that the electricity cuts will be prolonged due to the serious damages suffered by the electrical lines in Camagüey province. Some have tried alternative ways to recharge their cellphones without having to go to the polyclinics.

“Days before the hurricane a cousin emailed me a trick to charge a cell phone with a 9-volt battery, so I started looking around my house and I found one that solved the problem a little,” says a young man standing in line with his mother to use the clinic’s outlets.

The damage to poles, transformers and cables has been so extensive in the central and eastern part of the country that Raúl Castro, who is also president of the National Defense Council, ordered that support brigades be created in each municipality to “guarantee the restoration of the electricity” according to an official note.

Those in Camagüey who are starting their third day without power greeted the news with displeasure. The weather is still humid although the rains have stopped. The streets remain covered with a mixture of mud, leaves and tree branches. On the stands in the markets there is nothing but bananas and some tiny papayas that must have fallen due to the winds.

A woman walks past the polyclinic with a bag of eggs and a group surrounds her to inquire anxiously where she bought them. Provisions are unavailable and agriculture in the area has suffered a devastating blow that will take months to recover. Most affected are bananas, but beans and vegetables have also suffered.

The chicken farms on the outskirts of the city are the scene of massive deaths, several of them have lost their roofs and are flooded, according to testimonies of several farmers in the area. Hopefully there will be images circulating in the next few days, when neighbors recharge their mobiles and send them out.

Every kilowatt is worth whatever people ask for it and more, in a city where public transport has been cancelled and electric motorbikes are the only way that many can get around.

“There are places where they do not let you connect to recharge [a motorbike], but there are always people willing to help,” explains Yusnier Ramirez, a young man in line to recharge his cell phone at the medical post in front of Plaza Méndez. “There are also those who recharge their motorbikes, but for that we have to pay,” he says.

The urgency to reactivate cell phones grows due to the failures in city’s fixed-line phone network.

“I’ve been waiting for more than two hours,” says another Camagüeyan outside an emergency room. The young man tried to use a rustic solar panel to revive his device, but was unsuccessful. “This polyclinic looks like a disaster zone, but the consultation rooms are empty,” he explains. “We are all here to recharge our mobiles.”

Cuban Evangelicals Denounce Complacent Article By Associated Press

Religious Cubans are often repressed by the state.

14ymedio bigger14ymedio, Ricardo Fernandez, Pinar del Rio, 31 March 2017 – A report published by the Associated Press published last Monday, under the title “Far From the Dark Past, Evangelicals Growing in Cuba,” upset evangelical pastors with its open defense of the Cuban regime to the detriment of religious freedom.

The author, Andrea Rodríguez, cites one of the many examples of pastors imprisoned for their faith in the first decades of the Revolutionary Process, to compare it to the current situation and to refute the report from Christian Solidarity Worldwide. The London-based organization reported 2,380 violations of religious freedom in Cuba in 2016, among which were declaring 2,000 churches of the Assembly of God illegal, with 1,400 confiscations of properties. The report also denounced the persecution and imprisonment of parishioners, as well as the destruction of churches. continue reading

The reaction to the article, which has been circulating by e-mail between pastors and parishioners, lies in the fact that sources cited by the Associated Press journalist are close to the Cuban Government, so they have retained a number of “privileges” that should be inalienable rights for all Cubans.

Pastor Bernardo de Quesada of the Apostolic Movement believes that the report is “counterproductive” and “very loose with regards to the reality of religion in Cuba.”

The religious leader says, “Many of those who were interviewed did not speak truthfully and the journalist wrote it with marked apologies to the communist system.” He also claims that Rodríguez only included “a part” of his statements.

For Dagoberto Valdés, director of the Coexistence Study Center and a well-known Catholic layman, “it is common” to confuse freedom of belief, freedom of worship and religious freedom but “they are not the same”

“When I was interviewed, I didn’t express the ideas that were written,” he adds.

For Dagoberto Valdés, director of the Coexistence Study Center and a well-known lay Catholic, “it is common” to confuse freedom of belief, freedom of worship and religious freedom, but clarifies “they are not the same.”

“In the first decades of the Revolution we were persecuted for the simple fact of believing, professing a religion was a crime. Today we have gained that space, but we were not given it by the goodwill of government leaders,” says Valdés.

He acknowledges that a majority of people can regularly attend their religious ceremonies without being persecuted, but asserts that religious freedom is much more than that. “When Lieutenant Colonel Osvaldo (head of State Security’s Technical Department of Investigations in the province of Pinar del Río) threatened me in his office, he said that I was crossing the line between Christianity and the counterrevolution with the Coexistence Study Center.”

Kiri Kankhwende, a spokesman for Christian Solidarity Worldwide, accused the churches of not wanting to speak out because of government pressure.

The Office of Religious Affairs of the Communist Party is in charge of monitoring the religious. The organization holds periodic meetings with the main spiritual representatives of each municipality with the aim of avoiding possible disagreements.

“Once a dissident was attending my congregation and shortly afterwards a State Security agent came to threaten me with blocking my travel from the country if I was a member of the Church,” says a Pinar del Rio pastor on condition of anonymity.

“For those who do not travel, they pressure them with the illegality of their structures, because not even the legal churches have permission to build temples and we have to say that we are building houses even if inside we turn it into a hall to bring the church together,” he added.

Raúl Risco is a dissident lawyer who is not allowed to go to church to celebrate his faith

Raúl Risco is a dissident lawyer who is not allowed to go to church to celebrate his faith. “Many times I have been mistreated or expelled by pastors too fearful of losing government concessions,” in Pinar del Rio, where he resides, he says. Now, to avoid reprisals against him or the community, he practices his faith without attending the meetings of his congregation.

For Pastor Bernardo de Quesada the demolitions of Protestant temples have nothing to do with the supposed “illegality of the constructions” but with the impossibility of obtaining permits to build them. “Who will be more illegal, the church that is not legalized or the state that does not allow it?” asks the religious leader from Camagüey.

“We have experienced all kinds of repression, from threats to parishioners to their expulsion from their schools or jobs for attending our churches, to massive arrests and physical violence against those who were there on the day of the demolition of our temple,” says Dignora Marrero, who belongs to the same congregation. “That is our reality and not the one that the Government tries to present.”

Cement Pottery / 14ymedio, Ricardo Fernandez

Victor Rodriquez engages in the specialized trade of creating ornamental cement pottery. (14ymedio).

14ymedio bigger14ymedio, Ricardo Fernandez, Pinar del Rio, 14 March 2017 – They call it grey gold because it repairs damage, prevents divorce and builds houses. Cement is one of the most in-demand products in Cuba today where 39% of the housing inventory is defective or in a bad state, according to a report by the Housing authorities.

In the midst of pressing construction needs, a taste for the ornamental also is developing. A newly emerging class decorates its houses with friendly garden gnomes, pelicans with thin legs who appear at front doors and balusters in the shape of sexy women.

After a long period of block-shaped construction, made of pre-fabricated and undecorated pieces, many Cubans appear ready to make up for lost time. The “cement potters” industry, a self-employment occupation that is on the rise, has been made to bloom by the demand for façade decorations. continue reading

Victor Rodriquez lives in Pinar del Rio and considers himself an artist of concrete. His work day begins early when he gets the molds for the pieces that he assembled 12 hours earlier. His hands reveal panels, pedestal vases, mushrooms, lions, flowers, pine cones, pyramids, friezes and post corners.

The potter then moves to the stage of scraping, polishing and painting each piece with a solution of cement and water. He does it like someone who bathes and touches up a delicate baby. His small courtyard is crowded with the sculptures that will later adorn the homes of the province or some distant town.

Cement pottery is hard but profitable work, according to its artisans (14ymedio)

Victor has a loyal clientele, although the competition in the area is strong, and the number of self-employed workers devoted to these activities is growing. The craftsman stands out because he designs his own pieces instead of buying ready-made molds, a detail that many appreciate in an industry that lives by imitation and the repetition of motifs.

Each day, when he finishes his work near 7 pm, Victor bathes to leave behind that grey powder that covers him from head to foot. After eating, he dedicates himself to giving form to the clay that will serve as a sample for casting the cement molds. After polishing and painting, the prototypes are ready to produce new series of figures.

“It is more work, but I never liked to be anyone’s echo,” Victor proudly explains about his originality. “I have never been able to promote my business, and I live away from the city, but the clients themselves have spread the word, and the orders even come from other municipalities,” he explains to 14ymedio.

With the growing demand, Victor’s family became involved in his efforts. His wife polishes, retouches and paints, while his son helps him prepare the concrete and cast the pieces. “It is hard work,” says the young man, who decided to become a potter with his father. “But it pays, and I like it,” he concludes.

“Getting the materials is the most difficult part because there is no wholesale market,” complains the business owner. Most times he has to order from retailers who buy it from the suppliers and bring it to the house.

“Yes, I do demand receipts from them and quality products. In order to maintain my standards I only use pp350 cement, more expensive but also more durable.” The mixture also includes “artificial sand,” he points out.

The Cuban cement industry suffered with the fall of the socialist camp. Currently, the country has six factories that produce grey gold, and in 2016 they reached 1,494,000 tons of the product, of which some 400,000 were distributed in the retail market.

Cement pottery requires preparing the concrete, casting the pieces, polishing, retouching and painting, among many other things. (14ymedio)

However, they still do not produce “the volumes necessary to satisfy an ever-growing demand,” according to Cesar Revuelta, vice-president of the Construction Materials Group. Between 2014 and 2015, the amount of cement that the country had to import underwent a significant increase from 2,677 tonnes to 4,349.

At the end of 2015, the Mexican business Cemex, one of the leading worldwide cement producers, showed its interest in returning to the Island, whether through the sale of cement or the installation of a plant. However, the establishment of an industry on Cuban soil has still not materialized.

But not only the materials shortage can damage the work of these craftsmen. “Sometimes the sculptures are ruined because the molds are badly assembled,” explains Victor. “It has happened to me when I am stressed, that’s why I try to stay focused on the work.”

The pieces made by the Pinareño have had great reception not only because of their unique designs but also because of their quality and durability. But the business of cement ornaments also is rife with swindles and tricks.

“There are no quality controls for concrete construction materials, generally the only inspection carried out for individuals in that line of business is of a fiscal character,” explains Alexander Morejon, official with the National Office of Tax Administration (ONAT), in Pinar del Rio.

There have been cases of manufactured balusters incapable of supporting weight or pieces eroded by humidity and saltpeter. “I ordered some vases to place on the balcony but they have fallen to pieces,” says Monica, owner of a recently remodeled dwelling in San Jose de Las Lajas.

The woman believes that in her case the artisan used “a mix with sea sand, and the cement was overcome. Placing the decorations on the upper story of her house has caused problems, and “it is dangerous because pieces fall, and children play just below.”

However, Victor’s clients attest the quality of his products. “My statue-shaped balusters have been at the doorway more than seven years and look like the first day,” Angel Izquierdo, from the Brione Montoto village, tells this daily when he shows up at the potter’s home for the purchase of patio tiles, another of the products that he offers.

“I am about to finalize a machine to make floor tiles with different mosaic designs,” says Victor as he shows the pieces of a rustic press with which he hopes to increase his earnings.

Translated by Mary Lou Keel

Local Producers Missing From Pinar Del Rio Wine Shop / 14ymedio, Ricardo Fernandez

Casa de los Vinos (House of Wines) in Pinar del Rio was inaugurated this Tuesday, hours late (14ymedio). Photo: Jaliosky Ajete

14ymedio bigger14ymedio, Ricardo Fernandez, Pinar del Rio, 17 February 2017 – The Pinar del Rio Casa de los Vinos (House of Wines) got off on a bad foot the day of its inauguration. The opening ceremony, held on Tuesday, had to be delayed for several hours as the construction work had not been completed and customers were scarce.

Those most missed were the local producers, who were the initial promoters of this initiative – along with the urban agriculture workers – and who planned a place where customers could taste and buy artisanal wines. The idea, which failed for lack of state support, was taken over by the state-owned Internal Trade Company, but without the presence of the private winemakers. continue reading

On the island, despite the climate and the limited access to raw materials, an increasing number of producers are making artisanal wines, from the fermentation of fruits such as guava, orange, papaya, pineapple, soursop and mango.

The new place in Pinar del Rio, situated at No. 8 Gerardo Medina Street, seeks to enhance the inventiveness of winemaking and has capacity for 26 customers. “We prioritize the local production of artisan wines,” the manager, Julio Corrales Banos, told the official press.

On the opening day, however, only the industrial wines made in the province were on offer because of the lack of an agreement with the area’s producers. The absence of a legal framework that allows the state to contract directly for the products of these entrepreneurs is limiting local activity.

Artemisa and Mayabeque are currently the only provinces that have greater flexibility in contracts with the private sector.  Raúl Castro’s government has given autonomy to the Administration Councils of the provincial Assemblies of People’s Power to experiment with another type of management.

For winemakers from Pinar del Rio, being able to count on something like this would mean a considerable jump in profits due to the increase in demand that has been noticed in the region in recent years.

For the moment, the sale of privately managed wines is carried out from doorways and informal stands on the busiest streets of the city. Some thirty producers sell wine, the majority of which are of excellent quality, despite not meeting the international standards for the inclusion of sugar in the fruit fermentation process.

The wines that are produced in the Island have high degrees of Brix, a unit of measurement of the sugars present in a drink, and are usually sweet or semi-sweet, with a low volume of alcohol.

Ernesto Reinoso and his wife showing their wine selection for February 14th. (14ymedio)

Ernesto Reinoso, 81 years old, produces 26 Vinos de Rey in a traditional way. “If the objective was to create a space where the people of Pinar del Rio can consume wines, they would have to look at the prices, because the wines we sell are very cheap, 1 Cuban convertible peso (roughly $1 US) a bottle,” he says about the new place.

At the head of the first stage of the Casa de los Vinos was Julio del Llano, a retired winemaker regrets that no private producer was invited to the opening. Del Llano, the third generation of winemakers in his family, is a promoter of quality among producers and was the first in the territory to register his brand.

“We winemakers will have to continue marketing through self-employed workers, as we have done until today,” concludes Del Llano, who has won multiple awards in national quality contests.

In February of last year, in the 25th Artisan Wine Festival, celebrated at the Agricultural Fair of Rancho Boyeros (Havana), a contest was held in eight categories: white, rosé, red, sparkling, dry, semi-dry, sweet and semi-sweet. Luis Bermúdez Rodríguez won the grand prize with a sample of semi-sweet wine made from pineapple and banana, 2013, with 12.8 degrees of Brix.

Invasive Marabou Weed, An Enemy That Became An Ally / 14ymedio, Bertha Guillen and Ricardo Fernandez

A pile of marabou branches beside the road waiting to be transported. (14ymedio)

14ymedio bigger14ymedio, Bertha Guillen and Ricardo Fernandez, Artemisa/Pinar del Rio, 9 February 2017 – When he was a boy, Jorge Luis Ledesma Herrera played around the charcoal ovens his father had built. Now, approaching 50, this Pinar del Rio man dedicates his days to a shrub that is both hated and appreciated: the invasive marabou weed, raw material for the first product that Cuba has exported to the United States in more than five decades.

Ledesma lives in El Gacho, a few miles from San Juan y Martinez, where the best tobacco on the island is grown. Also growing in the area is the spiny plant that has invaded the island since its arrival 150 years ago. Now, its hard branches provide sustenance to thousands of families across the island. continue reading

Cuba annually exports between 40,000 and 80,000 tonnes of charcoal produced from marabou, which occupies roughly 2.5 million acres of land that would otherwise be suitable for agriculture, or almost 17% of the island’s arable land.

Livestock areas have also been affected by this invasive weed that has conquered 56% of the land used for animal husbandry. The plague of threatening thorns spreads, thanks to the plant’s strong nature, but also due to the neglect and poor organization that affects the Cuban countryside.

A pile of sacks filled with marabou charcoal after the dismantling of the oven (14ymedio)

The state maintains a good deal of control over land despite the fact that in recent years the cooperative sector has been expanded and land has been leased in usufruct to private farmers.

The Basic Units of Cooperative Production manage 25% of the land, the Agricultural Production Cooperatives 8% and the Credit and Services Cooperatives 38%, while state farms manage 29%, according to figures provided in 2015 during the XI Congress of the National Association of Small Farmers (ANAP).

Popular jokes praise the marabou as if it were the royal palm. They propose to replace that haughty national emblem on the Republic’s coat of arms and in its place enshrine the tangled anatomy of the invading species.

A decade ago Raul Castro joked about the repudiation of the bush during a speech in Camagüey, during the official commemoration of the assault on the Moncada Barracks. “What was most beautiful, what stood out in my eyes, was how beautiful the marabou was along the whole road,” he said after traveling from Havana to that central province.

After that harangue, the crusade against the marabou took on ideological status and became a symbol of Raul’s government, right alongside the promises of eradicating the dual monetary system, curbing corruption and lowering food prices. Shortly afterwards, enthusiasm for the battle was lost and it disappeared from the government’s list of critical projects.

In an irony of fate, the enemy plant has gradually become an ally. In 2007 the Spanish company Iberian and Solid Fuels (Ibecosol SL) began to commercialize charcoal made from marabou in several European countries. Its ability to burn slowly and the delicate flavor it adds to food has earned it a good reputation.

The earth has to be scorched first to make the oven work properly. (14ymedio)

Jorge Luis Ledesma Herrera knows these qualities well, because part of the marabou he processes ends up in his own stove. Every morning he spends hours cutting the logs that he then transports in an oxcart. His life is not very different from his grandfather’s, but he boasts of being able to count on “legal electricity” in an environment where low voltage “clotheslines” – as makeshift electrical wiring is called – abound.

He describes working with marabou as a real hell. The main limitation is the tools he has to work with. The axes and machetes are of poor quality, bought on the black market, and must be repaired all the time. With ingenuity, some have recycled blades from sugar cane harvesters to aid in cutting.

About two hundred yards from the farmer’s house is the flat ground where the oven is built. The earth is burned and looks fine, like black powder. The marabou must be heated to temperatures between 750° and 1300° F, with the wood stacked in a cone, covered over with straw and earth.

“Two months ago I took out of the oven an amount I calculated as 20 sacks – about half a tonne – and it started to rain. Although the rain only lasted a few minutes the hard coals cracked like broken glass,” he said. “I could only save five sacks.

In the nearby Artemisa Joaquín Díaz, 56, has been engaged in the manufacture of charcoal since he was a child. He has been using marabou for years to cook, but now, with the news of its export, he processes it more delicately and takes greater care of the ovens. Like Ledesma, he only has access to water through a well, takes care of his personal needs in a latrine outside the house and his house has a light weight roof.

This charcoal producer in the village of Fierro, in the municipality of San Cristóbal, bears up under the sting of the rebellious shrub; like other farmers he uses gardening gloves to protect himself. Keeping his eyes away from thorns is also part of the precautions. When he prepares an oven he tries not to leave a gap between one stick and another, because “it doesn’t hold in the fire and then it goes out.” Care is essential. “As long as white smoke is coming out, the wood isn’t burned,” and it will only ready to dismantle when the smoke turns blue, which may take a week or more, Diaz explains.

In Pinar del Río, the companies that buy charcoal from the burners are the state-owned Acopio and the Integral Forest Enterprise. Payment is made through a temporary contract that allows them to be paid directly and not through the cooperatives. The charcoal-burners thus avoid the check cashing fee charged by those entities.

The house in Artemisa of the charcoal-burner Joaquín Díaz, age 56. (14ymedio)

The state pays for charcoal at 1.20 Cuban pesos (CUP – roughly 5 cents US) per kilogram (2.2 pounds) wholesale, or 30 CUP for a 25 kilogram sack. For premium charcoal they pay 0.10 CUC (roughly ten cents US) per kilogram. With luck, the producer will pocket the equivalent of 150 dollars for every tonne of best quality charcoal, which the state enterprise will sell in the United States for 420 dollars, almost three times what the charcoal-burner makes.

However, selling to the state comes with many problems of late payments. In addition, “the rigging of the process of selection and the weighing of the premium coal, makes it more reliable to sell it to private individuals,” says Ledesma. The private buyer pays 40 CUP per sack, “and many owners of pizzerias and private restaurants in Pinar del Rio” come to him to stock up.

Ledesma dreams of being able to sell his marabou charcoal directly, without going through the state as an intermediary. “If that could be done, I would buy myself a chain saw to increase production so I could change the way I live.” Of course if that were the case, he reflects, “even doctors would come here set up charcoal ovens in El Gaucho.”

“Farmers Have Awakened To The Reality Of The System, Although They Can Not Protest Openly” / 14ymedio, Ricardo Fernandez

A Cuban farmer plows the land with oxen (CC)
A Cuban farmer plows the land with oxen (CC)

14ymedio bigger14ymedio, Ricardo Fernandez, Pinar del Rio, 12 September 2016 – Rolando Pupo Carralero is a self-declared lover of the countryside, despite having begun working the land by necessity, when he abandoned his studies in economics.

Currently a member of the national executive of the Cuban Independent and Democratic Party (CID) and coordinator in the western region of for political group, Pupo has worked for many years growing tobacco. From his experience in the fields, he believes it is very difficult for regime opponents to own land, and believes the farmers have become aware that the “Revolution” pays them one-forty-fifth of the value of what they produce.

Ricardo Fernandez.  How is it possible that within the opposition there are no independent farmer organizations?

Rolando Pupo Carralero. In Cuba, they don’t allow members of the opposition to have land. It is not a written law, but the land is in the hands of the state, and it is distributed to those who are “suitable” and opponents are rarely in that category. continue reading

People who inherit land can be part of the opposition, but even so, the government has ways to pressure them not to be. Among these, the strongest are the requirement to be associated with a cooperative with a “legal personality” because otherwise they cannot buy supplies and services or sell their crops.

There is still no private sector in Cuba capable of buying one farmer’s entire production, nor is there a legal market where you can buy fertilizer or supplies if you are not affiliated with the National Association of Small Farmers (ANAP).

RF.  Does that mean that the peasantry is in agreement with the Cuban system?

RPC. The fact that they can not belong to the active opposition does not mean that they do not oppose the system, but the farmer does not have freedom or autonomy. Despite the mechanisms used by the government to indoctrinate and repress the peasantry (cooperatives, ANAP and other institutions of that type), farmers are not completely subjugated. You have to be at a meeting of the cooperative, which convenes monthly, to see the high level of dissatisfaction and the harshness in the well-founded opinions expressed by the members.

RF.  How have the farmers changed their position on the government?

RPC. Initially the peasantry supported the Revolution because it brought some benefits, but the accounts have been made clear over time. For example, in the case of tobacco, the state buys the first quintal (more than 70% quality) for 2,574 pesos, for which you need 1,300 cuttings, with a large expenditure of resources in planting, cultivation, harvesting and drying.

But that quintal of tobacco contains 12,800 leaves (80 cujes of 160 leaves each) and if we figure that for a first quality cigar you need only three leaves, the quintal is the equivalent of 4,266 cigars for export, and an amount equal or more in hard currency.

So they pay the farmer 102 Cuban convertible pesos (CUC, about $102 US), when the real value of the production is 45 times higher. These absurd inequalities mean that from their work they earn barely enough to live, which is why they have awakened to the reality of the system; although they can not protest openly.

RF.  Are there opponents with ties to the countryside?

RPC. I am one of them. I cannot be an owner, but I do cultivate land with my stepfather, who is an owner. Many opponents work in agriculture, some out of necessity and others for love. Although government pressures have made themselves felt, with threats to the owners who employ dissidents, the farmers no longer let themselves be intimidated.

For example, State Security periodically threatens my stepfather, saying they will take away his land if I keep working on it; but he defends his position with my right to work and live together because I am his family.

Gone are the days when being an opponent was a stigma for society. The peasants don’t hire people based on whether they are communists or opponents, they look for work performance regardless of political position.

RF.  How has it been for you linking agricultural work with the opposition?

RPC. Sometimes it is a bit complicated because some underestimate the farmers, associating them with terms such as peasant or brutish; but there are a lot of smart people working in the fields.

Hurricane Isidoro’s Victims Are Still Waiting / 14ymedio, Ricardo Fernandez

14 years after Carlos Lage’s promises, the victims of Hurricane Isidoro remain without their homes. (Ricardo Fernandez)
14 years after Carlos Lage’s promises, the victims of Hurricane Isidoro remain without their homes. (Ricardo Fernandez)

14ymedio bigger14ymedio, Ricardo Fernandez, Pinar del Rio, 19 July 2016 — “I pledge that very soon you will have your homes,” Carlos Lage Davila, vice president of the Councils of State and Ministers, said in 2002 to those who had lost everything and still today have not received what he promised.

Alexander Sanchez Villafranca, 33, was one of those affected by Hurricane Isidoro. “If I had listened to my mom and had cut down the mango tree, I would not be in this shelter. I never thought that the wind could pull it up by the roots,” he says. His home, at kilometer 1 in Santa Damiana, was reduced to rubble under the weight of the tree. He is among the 16 families living in shelters in Portilla in Rio Seco, in San Juan y Martinez municipality, as a result of Hurricanes Lili and Isidore. continue reading

The place, 19 kilometers from Pinar del Rio, had been a military unit of the Youth Labor Army (WCY), then in 1994 became a Battalion Task Force that housed those who came to support tobacco workers, and in 1995 it became a warehouse for oilcloth.

In 2002, after the hurricanes, they used it to receive the victims from Santa Damiana, Forteza and Rio Seco, who had no means to rebuild their own homes. Within a month of being there, they received a visit from Carlos Lage Davila, accompanied by former first secretary of the Party in the province, Maria del Carmen Concepcion, and other government and party officials.

At first, the mass organizations delivered lunch and dinner to residents, who were seen by a family doctor daily. Then-delegate Sergio Carrelegua visited them frequently and at meetings urged them to be patient and assured them that the promises would be fulfilled. “A few months later the attentions and promises disappeared,” recalls Sanchez, now married with a daughter of six who has known no other home. “Over time the roofs began to deteriorate and the solution from the delegate was to remove the roofs over the bathrooms and use them to replace the broken tiles over the bedrooms, so the toilets have no roof.”

The situation gets worse in the spring because of the rains, and for the elderly, whose health is delicate, dampness is a greater risk. “In the rainy season you have to do everything (even the physiological needs) in your bedroom,” says an old woman to illustrate the “hell” she is living in.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve gone to the municipal government to demand that they help us, but they don’t do anything,” says Arelys Rodriguez, Sanchez’s wife, while showing off the poor hygienic-sanitary conditions of the outdoor bathrooms. “I have to carry water from the neighbors’ house, because the raised tanks are uncovered and are filled with decomposing frogs, bats and even pigeons. I’d die before I drank that water,” she says with disgust.

Sanchez talks about his effort in agriculture, the work he does as a laborer, hoping that a relative living in the United States will help get her out of the hostel and he can buy a house. Meanwhile, her little daughter Thalia flits around her. That little girl, with her innate curiosity and boundless naiveté, manages to help Sanchez forget for a moment the neglect and misery that surrounds her.

Making a Living Off Coffee / 14ymedio, Ricardo Fernandez

Café Soler’s customers in Pinar del Rio. (14ymedio)
Café Soler’s customers in Pinar del Rio. (14ymedio)

14ymedio bigger14ymedio, Ricardo Fernandez, Pinar del Rio, 16 July 2016 — In the early morning hours insomniacs, travelers and night watchmen are surprised to find an ode to excellence in a cup of coffee.

At 3:00 in the morning the rush to prepare the nectar begins at the clinic on 27th of November Street between Maceo and Marti in Pinar del Rio, where Luis Armando Cabrera Soler lives. His wife, the doctor Madalina, helps him to organize the thermoses, bags and harnesses he uses in providing the service. Meanwhile, the guard working on the corner is seduced by the spreading aroma. continue reading

“I have a light on my cap so the customers don’t have to walk to the spotlight when they want to buy, but then I realized it worked as a kind of promotion,” said Luis, who started selling a thermos of coffee in June of 2013 and now has increased production fivefold. “I got the idea of varying the menu preparing cortadito from a taxi driver they call loco, because I saw it in Havana. Since then I added chocolate, cappuccino and café bombón. The chocolate intensifies the flavor of the coffee and the cappuccino follows the traditional standards, the bombóm (a mix of condensed milk, chocolate and coffee) leaves a pleasant taste in the mouth.

Without his having to hawk his products, the customers come to him. “The best advertising is the quality,” he says. “When it’s a large bill and I don’t have change I just give them a free coffee. I don’t lose money because I end up winning customers,” he says.

Luis does not mince words when he talks about the origin of the coffee he serves. “I sell 100% Café Soler,” he says, while showing us the logo he designed himself, “harvested by my family, roasted and steeped by me. I don’t have that many plants so I’m not forced to deliver the coffee [to the state]; but it’s enough for me for the year,” he says, referring to the parcel he owns in Sumidero in the municipality of Minas de Matahambre.

The state monopolies are the only legal buyers of the beans and to enforce that control there is a framework of laws that equate trafficking in coffee with crimes such as theft or illegal departures from the country.

The only legal way to market coffee is to buy it in the state’s Hard Currency Collection Stores and the high prices mean the business is not viable, so the self-employed generally turn to the informal market.

“The hardest thing to get is disposable cups. There is no place to buy them, I have to rely on the good will of neighbors and friends who bring them to me from abroad,” he comments, while serving coffee.

Cabrera worked as a buyer for the Pinar del Rio Fuel Company which belongs to the Ministry of Energy and Mines, work that, out of fear, he made compatible with selling coffee. “Many are afraid to trade a job for a business. I decided to take this step as long as the earnings are stable and the work shifts didn’t interfere with sales.”

With characteristic island humor and the amiability of someone who even lights the cigarettes of those who like to smoke while they drink their coffee, Cabrera knows how to relax the disaffected and cheer up the reticent. “What series bills do you want?” he jokes with someone who rejects coins in change. “My goal is to make the customer happy even with the change,” he says.

Generally sales end at 9:00 in the morning and then the preparations begin for the next day: roasting the coffee, grinding it, cleaning the thermoses with chlorine and washing the many towels used to wipe up the drips, removing the stains from the white coat he wears while selling and, finally, doing the accounts. This ends Luis Armando Cabrera’s day, and he does not repent becoming a small businessman.


Marabou and the Government: Making the Life of the Cuban Farmer an Ordeal / 14ymedio, Ricardo Fernandez

When Raul Castro promoted the leasing of idle land to the farmers, he invited them to make it productive with oxen. (14ymedio)
When Raul Castro promoted the leasing of idle land to the farmers, he invited them to make it productive with oxen. (14ymedio)

14ymedio bigger14ymedio, Ricardo Fernandez, Pinar del Rio — The Cuban farmer has only two problems in being productive: the invasive marabou weed and everything else.

When Raul Castro promoted a plan to lease idle land to the farmers and invited them to make it productive using oxen, he overlooked the fact that these parcels, in many case, has been infested with marabou weed for over 20 years. It is an invasive species that is very difficult to eradicate because to spreads through long rooms and creates numerous shoots that rise to the surface and multiply in the subsoil when the plants are cut or burned. continue reading

This means that it is impossible for any farmer to manually clear his 66 acres of marabou. It is when using technology that the odyssey begins. Typically, a crawler-type tractor—operating on tracks instead of wheels—with front blades is used to cordon off the marabou and burn it. But the farmer has no right to directly contract for this service with state entities, which are the ones who own the heavy equipment. Thus, the application has to go through the board of the cooperative, but it turns out that the tractors are broken or belong to companies that they cannot contract with. The solution: wait for a miracle to happen while “doing something” with the land for fear of having it taken away.

It is likely that, given the delays, then end up resorting to private individuals with their exorbitant rates. So the farmer has to go to the bank for a loan and on asking for the promised credit, the producer discovers that they won’t give you more than 20,000 Cuban pesos (about $800 dollars), if you don’t have anything to put down as collateral. With that money you might be able to pay to clean up about half your allotted land, so you make an inventory of the few things you can pawn: The house? An engine? The old tractor?

If you managed to burn the marabou, the government guarantees you at least five years of suffering chasing after herbicides and tools to control the persistent shoots. Every time you prepare your land you will have to turn to the black market in fuel because what the state has assigned you is barely a symbolic amount.

The legal alternative would be to buy the gas sold in hard currency on the highways by Cupet, but this could cost you 3,000 Cuban pesos for a day’s work, because a tractor with the plowing attachment can consume 120 liters of diesel a day. That is if the farmer owns an old tractor, because if not, it again becomes the story of an impossibility, that of contracting with a state enterprise. Then you have to add the expense of the contract with the private owner and the fuel.

When the farmer, finally, manages to have cleaned his land for production, you can see that a new chain of obstacles and problems opens before his eyes. He will have to sow on dry land, because pumping water is a privilege with too many conditions attached: availability of surface or well water, electricity or fossil fuel, a turbine with capacity and an irrigation system.

Opting for the state “technology package”—which includes seed, fertilizer and pest controls—implies selling the production to the state company Acopio at extremely low prices (in comparison to what private buyers will pay). In addition, they don’t deliver all the components of the package at the same time.

When the time comes to market the products, the farmer will find that if the buyers are individuals they cannot buy the entire crop, and the State Collection System of Agricultural Products will leave many of the fruits to rot in the field while the population in the city lacks them.

See also:

Decree-Law 300 Will Not Make the Land Produce / Dimas Castellano

Beans, ah, the beans! / 14ymedio, Yoani Sanchez

Land Leases, a “Half-ownership” / 14ymedio, Juan Carlos Fernandez

Crisis in Agriculture: Land for Those Who Work It / Dimas Castellanos

A Cuban Cafecito At The Expense Of Our Rights / 14ymedio, Ricardo Fernandez Izaguirre

Nespresso advertising for a limited edition made in 2014 as a tribute to Cuban coffee. (Nestle)
Nespresso advertising for a limited edition made in 2014 as a tribute to Cuban coffee. (Nestle)

14ymedio bigger14ymedio, Ricardo Fernandez Izaguirre, Pinar del Rio, 29 June 2016 — For Cubans who, in one way or another, make their living in the countryside, the president of the United States, Barack Obama, set off a surge of hope. One month after that visit, the US State Department’s decision to allow the importing of Cuban coffee (as well as textiles), produced by “independent entrepreneurs,” made us dream of exporting our products directly, without Cuban government intermediaries.

We started to plan the purchase of farm machinery and inputs to increase the land’s yield with the money earned from these exports. We feel respected as individuals, imagining ourselves sitting in front of representatives from foreign firms to negotiate our production. continue reading

So it seemed the letter of protest from the National Bureau of the National Association of Small Farmers (ANAP), seemed like a joke to us, that is the coffee “producers”; a letter that rejected the measures proposed by the US State Department, and accused them of wanting to influence Cuban farmers and distance them from the state.

Such a reaction is what we would expect, because it was too good to be true.

We know that the state monopolies in Cuba are not willing to lose the lush profits they earn at the cost of our work. But the gesture of support from the US government made me feel respected. This opening could serve as a mechanism of pressure on the island’s government, because the only way to negotiate with the United States would be through the producers whose rights have never been recognized.

So my confusion was great when I read that Nespresso plans to begin importing Cuban coffee to the United States this fall.

In Cuba there is no flexibility to allow coffee growers to negotiate, on the contrary. The 7th Cuban Communist Party Congress reaffirmed that there will be none of the long-expected, and necessary, changes. So, are the regulations of the State Department dancing in sync to the conga rhythm of the Cuban monopolies? Or is Nespresso being miserably deceived?

It has not been disclosed how this trademark, belonging to the transnational company Nestle, will negotiate directly with Cuban producers. The island’s famers don’t even have the right to sell directly to Cuban government entities. The Cuban state does not do business with natural persons, rather they create cooperatives (for example the UBPC, CPA and CCS) with legal standing as intermediaries.

In practice, for example, if a producer needs inputs they have to apply to the cooperative, because they can’t buy them directly from the entity that sells them. This type of practice involves delays and inefficiencies, as well as increasing costs for the coffee grower, since the cooperative applies a tax to each transaction processed.

When a company makes a purchase from a producer, it writes a check to the cooperative which pays the farmer, after collecting the tax, a mechanism that is also applied when the sale is between producers.

This is the reality we dreamt would change with United States government’s new policy of empowering Cuban entrepreneurs. It could be that Nespresso is being deceived by some artifice of the Cuban authorities, or it could be that the intransigence of the Cuban state has managed to break the good intentions of the Obama Administration.

But there is one thing we can be sure of: the new Cuban Nespresso Grand Cru, Cafecito de Cuba, will have the flavor of broken dreams, because it will be done at the cost of our rights.

The Hidden Pastors Of Cuba’s Evangelical Churches / 14ymedio, Ricardo Fernandez

Minister holds a service in the Cuban Evangelical Church League (Hispanic Evangelical Church)
Minister holds a service in the Cuban Evangelical Church League (Hispanic Evangelical Church)

14ymedio bigger14ymedio, Ricardo Fernandez, Pinar del Rio, 26 June 2016 – Religious visas for foreign pastors invited to Christian events exist in all countries, but in Cuba they serve as a mechanism of repression and blackmail by the state, with the aim of silencing the voices that are raised against it within the Christian community.

When this kind of visa is requested, the Cuban government demands that the churches submit a detailed schedule of the places where the foreigners will be and where they will stay, from the time of their arrival in the country until their departure. If the itinerary includes any of the churches that express disagreement with state policies, then the request for entry into the country is denied. continue reading

In addition, the Cuban governments demands that the church councils submit all the data on the preachers involved before offering them a visa, and if they are found to be associated with any NGO in their countries of origin that does not sympathize with “the Cuban cause,” the request is denied. If everything for one pastor is “in order,” according to their preferences, but the event has also invited other pastors who dissent from the communist process, the visa will probably be denied. Faced with this stark reality, the Christian community has been forced to hide foreign pastors who are invited to preach at their events.

This generates persecution by the Department of Immigration and Aliens, which levies heavy fines on offending churches or pressures their guests to leave the conference venue. On many occasions we have seen police operations mounted to stop pastors, as if they were drug dealers, who manage to make it to our activities.

How can the Church hide these preachers? It requires a great deal of audacity. The basic thing is to omit the names in the conference programs that are made public, and to have the guests travel on a tourist visa (sometimes through a third country) and reach the island by way of an airport in another province.

When they enter with a tourist visa (at least in theory) they can move freely around the country. That means it is not illegal for them to be in one of our churches and, if found with microphone in hand, we can always claim that they are “witnessing” (a term in Christian speech that is similar to preaching) rather than lecturing. As a security measure, these preachings are not made public through audios or videos, in case they might appear on social networks and become incriminating evidence against us.

While this happens with pastors of all nationalities, most abused are the Americans, because they provide most of the financial support for our congregations. This support is not some “Machiavellian plan of the Empire.” The Cuban Evangelical Church has had its roots in American congregations since 1900, when they began sending evangelists to our country, who established what we know today.

By denying US religious pastors visas, the Cuban government “punishes” the rebellious churches twice, because not only do they prevent their members from listening to the words of the guest, but they also cut off all possible financial aid.

That this happens in our country is contrary to the Constitution, which states in Chapter 1 Article 8: “The State recognizes, respects and guarantees religious freedom. In the Republic of Cuba, religious institutions are separate from the state. The different beliefs and religions enjoy equal consideration.”

How much longer will we have to wait for our religious freedom to be recognized and guaranteed? And above all: What is the government waiting for to start respecting our rights?