Necessities / Claudia Cadelo

If you don't eat all the potatoes I'll take you to the Internet. Image: Lázaro Saavedra

Since that time on one of the campuses of the University of Havana when I raised my hand to express a doubt about the Marxist categories of necessity versus chance, the concept surrounds me. I have come to the conclusion that human needs are complex enough that the specialists must abrogate the right to “suppress” some of them in our lives.

We have Elaine, Cuban blogger, who assumes her grandfather doesn’t need the Internet. Sadly, she’s not alone. The other day someone assured me that for a Cuban farmer the Internet is not a priority. What is the priority? Undoubtedly in the Middle Ages electricity was not one, and for Cro-Magnon man what we now call “staple products” were in short supply. Why do we insist on establishing boundaries to human welfare? I wonder why it’s a problem to assume access to the Internet as a 21st Century human right. Whether the farmer is connected so he can study the market for new fertilizers for the earth, or so he can chat on a boy-meets-girl site is immaterial; what matters is his right to access the World Wide Web and what it represents for his personal life. Any “supposition” about what a farmer should do on Google, or in the furrow, is called control over the free actions of another, personal choice and individual freedom.

Of course reducing world poverty is an imperative, but I honestly don’t see the connection between that and the right of Cubans to have private accounts for Internet access. Social inequality in the world does not justify Raul Castro getting to decide that I can’t open my Facebook whenever I want. Isn’t it obvious? Or am I going crazy?

26 April 2011

Chronicle of a Kidnapping / Miguel Iturria Savón

On Friday, April 22, at the corner of H and Calzada, in Vedado, Havana, I was intercepted at 3:45 pm by a Lada car without police plates, out of which came four security agents in plain clothes. Surprised, I tried to ask for the warrant; meanwhile the driver commands, “Get in, Iturria your time has come!” And one of the two gendarmes punches me and pushes me in with the help of another.

In the vehicle they stripped me of my belongings (cell phone, camera, book, papers and identity card). Already underway, they went down G Street to 23rd and from there to 41st and 31st. At the Marianao Military Hospital they turned to Siboney and got out at the San Augustine police station in the municipality of La Lisa.

Part of the way they kept me with my arms behind me and my head down. The driver responded to phone calls on his mobile with phrases like “I’m bringing the charge, call later”, or “get ten teams and wait in Section 30.” At his side an officer in his fifties, tall, black, thick lips and a face of disgust; the only one wearing military boots.

At the station they searched me thoroughly. I was in the lobby under the supervision of the guy who punched me — a swarthy thirty-something with a face full of hatred — and the young mulatto from the back seat, until an officer took me to a shabby office, where one of the military who was at my house on March 8, when I refused a summons to an interview with the “official Octavio,” came looking for two chairs; but Captain Tamayo came and moved me to a room with air conditioning, beginning the repetitive “verbal exchange” with Tamayo, escorted by subordinated who were at the house, both brave little things, and silent.

Tamayo is white, of medium height and light eyes. He suffers from oral incontinence and likes to dazzle with statistics showing State Security’s control of the peaceful opposition, exile organizations, independent journalists and alternative bloggers, whom he incessantly denigrates and minimizes, which contradicts the low importance he gives them.

He mentioned with contempt Elizardo Sanchez Santa Cruz, President of the Cuban Commission for Human Rights, Wilfredo Vallín Almeida, leader of the Cuban Association of Jurists; communicators Juan González Febles, director of Weekly Digital Spring, Julio Aleaga Pesant, Jose Alvarez and others like me “who pass the limits of tolerance limit we have set” and “dare to refuse the subpoenas of State Security, not knowing that we don’t need to comply with the articles of the Criminal Procedure Act, a verbal summons is enough; figure it out so we don’t have to detain you in the street again.”

In his monologue, Tamayo combines the information and statistics with praise for the Commander-in-Chief, “the man of the century,”,and General Raul Castro, “modest and humane like the Commander.” He ponders the “historic generation that leads the revolution,” the health system, education, achievements in sports and the participation of the people in elections and political events. To compensate, he unleashes his grievances against the hardships of the past in Cuba (although he was born in 1970), attacks the aggression of United States toward the island (quoting the words of President Obama in Chile), global capitalism and poverty in Africa, Asia and Latin America. As if that weren’t enough, he blames the economic embargo as the cause of our problems and thinks “if the Yankees opened up tourism and allow us to drill for oil in the Gulf of Mexico, we would save socialism and live better.”

Speaks of his farming background and the poverty of his family, he was born in a hamlet in the Sierra Maestra in the Contramaestre municipality, Santiago de Cuba province. He reiterates that has 23 years in the Ministry of Interior, where he barely earns enough to eat despite having a house in Havana and being a communist. He regrets not being able to have a bottle of rum every week and to bring boxes with gifts to relatives in the mountains.

Instead of questioning me, Tamayo combines his speech about power with threats against those who think differently. He warns that his department has the record of each of the 109 independent journalists in the country, “ready for submission to the prosecutor, as we did in 2003.” He adds that “State Security determines who gets permission to leave or who rots on the island.”
Faced with a mentality so codified, I limit myself to asking some ironic questions and clarifying certain views with conflicting data. I told him that he serves a totalitarian tyranny, not a socialist revolution, that what’s left are the slogans, rituals and masks of the most frightened who depend on the State, increasingly like a Arab sultanate; that the economic embargo and the alleged external aggressions are not the causes of the national disaster, rather it’s the inefficiency, corruption and lack of freedoms and opportunities to unleash the productive forces and citizen initiatives.

At eight pm, the officer handed me my belongings as a “goodwill gesture” in the hopes that I would not “make a circus out of what happened.” I assure him that I will continue to write without censorship, and will denounce the abduction arranged by him.

Miguel Iturria
Havana

26 April 2011

Translated from the Spanish from Cubanet

Bad Handwriting in La Joven Cuba (10) / Regina Coyula

The problem with Cuba

For Robert Perales

You shouldn’t worry too much about how people who probably are interested hypothetically speculate about the “problem of Cuba.” To cite global warming as a solution doesn’t turn out to be an irony you have taken very seriously. Of cyclones and an epidemic, though I don’t know the context and the tone in which it was said, I see it as a serious warning of how fragile we are before events of these kind.

You’re beating around the bush. The problem with Cuba will not be solved by outbursts from politicians, nor by students from Madrid or Miami. The problem of Cuban is that no one noticed that it could be disappearing beneath the marabou weed; is that despite having lost the Soviet subsidies twenty years ago, the Cuban economy has not given convincing signs of efficiency; it’s that the sugar industry has been dismantled rather than converted or made efficient.

According to what I see, though on TV they tell other stories, the CIA isn’t the one that fed it a poison pill, nor sprayed the aerosol of dissatisfaction. Ask yourself if those kids in your university who don’t complete their studies so they can leave, or those who don’t return from a scholarship abroad, ask about the low productivity in the workplace, or about corruption. These topics I point our are only some of those that make up the real problem with Cuba.

April 25 2011

A Black Man Who Could be Sent Back to the Trap / Luis Felipe Rojas

Photo: Luis Felipe Rojas

A trick within the Cuban juridical system may put Raumel Vinajera Stevens back in the jail he was released from under conditional freedom during last February 22nd. In a phone call I made to his wife, Tania Montoya Vazquez, both told me about the trap which Major Diorkis, said to be the chief of Confrontation against the Enemy in Santiago de Cuba, is preparing against him.

Raumel Vinajera Stevens told me: “From that moment when I created a delegation of the Orlando Zapata Tamayo National Civic Resistance and Civil Disobedience Front here in Palma Soriano, the local political police major, Francisco Feria Coba, has really set off against me because I continue to be involved with the opposition, and because I continue traveling to Palmarito de Cauto to visit the home of Jose Daniel Ferrer Garcia (prisoner of conscience from the group of the 75) ever since he was released from prison.”

“These same officials have threatened me with taking me back to prison if I continue carrying out opposition activities. On Friday, April 15th, at 9 in the morning, the Executive Judge from Palma Soriano municipality told me that on Monday the 18th I had to present myself at the tribunal so I could be revoked because of my conduct. I never asked to be released with conditional freedom. No one can condition me. I should have been released under an extra-penal license, for I entered the prison as a healthy man and now, I am a man who suffers from heart conditions, chronic hypertension, gastric ulcers, has a 52 millimeter cyst on my right kidney, and stones on both kidneys. I publicly denounce, before the world, that all this was the product of the rotten water given to prisoners, the poor diet we are subjected to, and the horrid conditions which we are kept behind the bars. All those who know me know about my physical appearance, and they know that I was a very healthy man when I entered prison.”

“I was accused under the crime of inflicting injury, when in reality the one who was injured was me. A paramilitary soldier sent to my house equipped with arms, along with the political police, handed in an accusation against me about causing injuries. On October 2, 2008, I was taken from my home in the worst possible way by a command unit of 8 men belonging to the political police and the Special Brigade. They then took me to the police unit of Palma Soriano, and then from there they moved me to the Boniato Prison. I was unjustly locked up for two years. They know that I am a dissident and that I will not give in. Now, I live with a sword hanging over my head and at any given moment police officers can arrive and haul me back to prison. But I will not stop participating in opposition activities. There is no penal or judicial status that prevents me from doing so, and I am a civil disobedient of the military laws of this country. This is why I am summoning them until I return to jail, am given extra-penal freedom, or until they leave me in peace. That is my message for these henchmen.”

When I finished chatting with Raumel, I quickly went to look for my Manuel Vazquez Portal book titled “Written without Permission” (Hispano-Cuban Press). In the book, Portal tells of a day when he was in the Boniato prison and visiting Lieutenant Colonel threatened him. During this, Raumel Vinajera Stevens jumped up and shouted, “Hey, damn you, go mess with the men on the other side, no one gives in to fear here!”

Raumel Vinajera Stevens is a Cuban, a black Cuban with no fear, and he has proved this various times. When this post is finally uploaded, it’s quite possible that Raumel will continue to be one of the ones on top of the list of people who will most likely fill in the cells of those who have been deported to Spain.

Translated by Raul G.

April 24 2011

Kaos: Two Chaotic Articles / Miriam Celaya

The General, in the framework of the Central Report to the Sixth Congress, made reference to the need for new journalism. Picture taken from the Internet.

A friend of mine, knowing about my quest for information and of my online time constraints, is kind enough to send me, from time to time, items he considers “interesting”, published in places that I don’t usually visit basically because of the above reasons and for my preference to prioritizing other venues within those limits.

Recently, the same friend has brought me two works published in Kaos on the Web, a site commonly classified as “leftist” and heavily visited by fundamentalists of various stripes, judging by the tone of many of the comments they dump there. These articles (“Cuba: Raúl’s worst enemies,” of April 4th, 2011, and “Yoani Sánchez and Cuban TV compete in their clumsy Manichaeism” of April 7th, 2011) are signed by a person calling himself Orlando Pérez Zulia, a Cuban with no other details, who, under apparent critical presuppositions about the reality of the Island, only succeeds in throwing dirt in the readers’ eyes, a practice much employed by more than a few collaborators of such a website.

I think I should stop and briefly explain two points about this issue: 1 — Why, if the articles mentioned seem so biased to me, do I waste my valuable time commenting on them? And 2 — Why does my kind friend classify these articles as “interesting”?

The answer to the first question is very simple: It’s clear that Kaos — voluntarily or otherwise — serves to support the authorities’ campaign of demonization against Cuban dissident sectors, in particular against the blogosphere, though its support for the government is presented — as happens in this case — masked in a language apparently critical of official sectors, in what constitutes an insult to people’s intelligence and an infamous manner of contributing to the chronic misinformation that affects Cuban society. It’s imperative, therefore, to denounce the exercise of media hypocrisy hidden behind this maneuver.

Regarding the second question, the answer is that my friend has undoubtedly become a victim of the illusion projected by Kaos: he wants to prove to me what he considers a sign of change. According to him, these types of articles seem “interesting” in that they indicate, at the very heart of the revolutionaries, the emergence of a critical group that openly and courageously points out the faults of the system. My good friend thinks that this official sector could help in transitioning a future Cuba into a more democratic and inclusive country. Such naiveté!

So it’s not exactly a useless waste of time to analyze in brief the result of the neuronal outgrowths of Orlando Pérez, without inferring intent to exhaust the subject completely, or attempting a theoretical positioning of someone who seems to consider himself a thinking bombshell. I do not intend to ascend to such a high level of intellect.

I couldn’t begin to enumerate here the number of words and empty phrases deployed in both his writings, which stand out for their lack of substance. I’ve become bowlegged in the face of some that I have found truly novel, but what is incredibly sinuous is the discursive strategy of attack against both dissident writers (independent journalists, alternative bloggers, etc.), as against the official media, including the regular press and Cuban TV, the latter charged — or so Orlando tells us — with spreading false social and economic achievements of the revolution and giving credit to dissidents for devoting space to its stoning. I admit that, in this, we have some common points. Either way, this position also curiously coincides with the criticism that the Gray General directed at official journalists in his Central Report to the Sixth Congress of the CCP … Pure coincidence?

However, a position as “condescending”, yet energetic, on Orlando’s (?) part, with its masquerade of justice, tends to sanctify as tested truths certain lies that also circulate through the official media, born of invocations from the constant repetition of “information” about internal dissent, particularly their mercenary character with respect to the ever-satanic Northern Empire (the “wealth” of some of these mercenaries, stemming from payment of their salaries reaches fabulous figures, judging from these and other means, which Orlando also asserts). But the writer fails to go beyond the exclusionary nature of the system and its representatives, when one attributes the ability to determine how and who can disagree with the government. The subliminal message is clear: “the right to dissent is for revolutionaries”. Without a doubt, the desperation of this regime is making its lackeys give birth to truly amazing subterfuges.

Of course, the direction of the revolution is still being presented as immaculate in the writings of this champion of fair criticism who — as any other follower of the dictatorship — shows signs of generous and profuse flattery: “President Raúl Castro has undertaken a Cyclopean task to route Cuban society through the trails of efficiency, which will culminate into a minimum state of welfare, always promised to our people but frequently postponed. His speech at the closing session of the December 18th, 2010 National Assembly of Popular Power was impressive by his clear and forceful self-criticism”. This is stated by the writer as a premise to a new generational Messianism, according to which “Cuban revolutionaries” are being summoned at this dramatic hour to assume “a commitment of historic dimension”. It’s the new “Now, indeed!” of the hour, which assures us, by the reforming hand of the cabinet General, his exemplary punishment of the corrupt and deceitful leaders (like himself, I would add), the advent of the promising future with which the regime has gripped our lives for the past 52 years.

It turns out that Orlando Pérez, like his ancient olive-green idol, is also a reformer, something like a reformism theorist. That is why he considers it “a mistake” to attack all internal dissidents alike, since they are not all “pathetic hustlers”, “brainless puppets”, or “mercenaries without values” (the latter suggests the existence of “mercenaries with values”, a complete tribute), so he asserts that Yoani Sánchez — paradigm of evil, witch among witches — should be allowed to leave Cuba so she can show “the shallowness of her analyses” (she is “a lesser being”). That is why Orlando (“a higher being”, for certain) also wonders: “Are individuals who have been or are still imprisoned for unclear crimes menacing enemies, who are often limited to express different ideas, though some of them have flexed their muscles in the foreign news media? Are those who have done so without being jailed also menacing enemies? And in the next sentence he states that they are not a menace, which has been demonstrated by the “unilateral” liberation” (?) that they have been receiving. It might seem that political prisoners released in recent months — due to the many pressures on the Cuban government, both by foreign governments and institutions, and by civil society groups and dissidents within the Island, and not by the political willpower of the dictatorship — belong to a faction that is also holding government representatives imprisoned and has not agreed to give them their freedom in turn. Or that independent journalists in Cuba waste opportunities they are offered to publish in the national media, so they publish (muscle-flex) in the foreign media.

Orlando is a very sharp guy, so he arrives half a century behind with the discovery of “the serious errors leading to the prevailing precariousness and its consequences: corruption and absurd and ubiquitous prohibitions, both born of the glaring incompetence of the methods used, to date, to produce confidence and prosperity”. And only a group of corrupt officials, notable among them, “the sons of Acevedo, of Guillermo García, of Maciques, of Lusson and of Torralba”, among others, are responsible for those evils that dissidents point out in such vile and opportunist ways. So easy and simple. Not the Castro brothers. They are not responsible for anything. Because, without a doubt, the writer knows the golden rule of the tricks of the trade: play with the chain, but don’t touch the monkey, so he takes good care of not reporting the names to the nouveau riche, the original sin that accuses Yoani and El Nuevo Herald. As you can see, he is indeed a convincing guy.

I must admit, however, that Orlando (why does that have a false ring to me?) is right, at least to the extent that the official media are liars, boring, tiring, manipulative and insistent. However, he avoids basic issues: whose media is it? Is the national press better than the media trash he criticizes so much? Why doesn’t he mention that the eyesore Cuban TV also illustrates the “cultural decadence” that affects our nation? And, as far as the alternative media, specifically the blogosphere, why does he try to present Yoani Sánchez as dissident analyst of the Cuban reality, a title that she has never claimed for herself, instead of mentioning a space of such serious and substantial analyses of our history and our reality as, for instance, El Blog de Dimas? (this is a rhetorical question. Obviously, reading that website would leave the referenced writer standing in his underwear on his lofty platform of media purity).

Maybe Orlando Pérez Zulia — who would be more credible and respectable if he had presented himself with his true identity in any forum — may be part of a new and devious official strategy born out of impulses of the much publicized and artificial “media war” a new conflagration designed by a government that thrives only in confrontations. At any rate, with or without a pseudonym, he has shown with these two deliveries that he still has a lot of imperfections to polish in his worn-out race of web misinformation. May he forgive me if I don’t wish him luck in his endeavors.

The General, in the framework of the Central Report to the Sixth Congress, made reference to the need for new journalism. Picture taken from the Internet.

Translated by Norma Whiting

April 21 2011

Quick Love, Brief Shelter / Yoani Sánchez

“To the warm shelter of 214…” began a song by Silvio Rodriguez which — in my adolescent naivete — I listened to as if it were a riddle. So it was until a friend, who’d lived a little more than I had, unblushingly clarified the phrase. It was simply the address of a well-known Havana motel, where couples could find a place for quick love in a country already gripped by housing limitations. Waiting outside those places were women who covered their faces with scarves and sunglasses, while the men paid the desk clerk and got the key to the room. An insistent knock on the door would warn them that their time was over and others were waiting to enter.

Havana’s inns, scenes of so many infidelities, sudden passions, and even innumerable passions that led to formal matrimony with several children. These places, once flourishing, faced a long period of stigma and then a precipitous decline. They passed from sites of ardor to become cramped housing for victims of building collapses. Put like that, it sounds fair: substituting necessity for pleasure, the rapture of the flesh for the pressing needs of a family. One after the other, the city’s motels were closed to the public and their small rooms were taken up by people who lost their homes to the winds of a hurricane or the ravages of a fire. Informal love began to move to the bushes, dark corners, or, quietly, to the same room where Grandma was sleeping. Those with hard currency could, in turn, seek out private homes that rented rooms for 5 convertible pesos for several hours.

Now, passing through Fraternity Park late at night, it’s not uncommon to hear to a groan in the shadows, the muffled sound of clothes rubbing against each other. The majority of people my age and younger have never had their own roof under which to caress their partner, or a private bed where they can lie wrapped in each other’s arms. People who haven’t known what it is to live in a city where there are motels with neon signs and tiny rooms where you can make love for at least an hour. Nor do they understand the song — outdated now — of that singer-songwriter, and names such as Hotel Venus, 11th and 24th, The Countryside, or Ayestaran Cottages do not awaken any pleasant memories.

25 April 2011

Amazing Parade / Miguel Iturria Savón

Michael Novas, a resident of El Cotorro, in Havana, was surprised by the text message his wife sent on Saturday April 16 from Valencia, Spain, where she saw television images of the “amazing parade” held at the Plaza of the Revolution to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the socialist nature of the Castro government.

Noting that his cell phone beeped, he was enjoying the third part of the American film Pirates of the Caribbean American, “more fascinating than the political shows mounted from time to time by the gang of senile night owls who misgovern Cuba.”

He declined, however, to contaminate the euphoria of the lady with his critiques against such events. “She called me half an hour later for catharsis on the spot. She knows that our dictatorship revives the ghosts of the past and seeks legitimacy with populist acts, but she doesn’t not lose the sense of wonder. What worried me most was the teenagers shouting slogans and the old hierarchy who presided over the ceremony.”

Like Michael, other neighbors beyond the rhetorical contortions of supposed battles and victories, speak with disgust about the parade on April 16 and the forms of coercion to secure the assistance of thousands of children and adults.

“They refused to pay me the hard currency for the month for refusing to go to the Plaza to represent the workplace,” says Miguel, a sports trainer of 42 who returned months ago from Venezuela. He adds that “both the administration and the union responded to the Party for the mobilization of the assigned quota of workers.”

Jorge Hernandez, 59, an unemployed taxi driver, said, “This isn’t change, it’s the same political song as in the sixties; my oldest daughter went to keep her job in the Habaguanex store where she works; the younger one got out of it with a medical certificate.”

The artisan Orestes C. A. thinks that “most of those attending the parades don’t do so on their own initiative, nearly all are called to go by their school or workplace. Even the officials go because they have to. The case of the military and the “militia” is different; the officials govern and organize as if they owned the country; the military are like zombie guerrillas trained months in advance in exchange for promises and perks for their loyalty.”

I ask a colleagues from the independent press about the “amazing parade”; he makes a face of disgust and says, “It’s a matter of image, the Castro propaganda apparatus needs to display the supposed support of the people. Our army does not serve to confront any external enemy, but to intimidate Cubans. The act shows it is anchored in the past and in the manipulation of the masses.”

Translated by: Ariana

April 22 2011

Dialectic Traps / Reinaldo Escobar

Underlying the idea “to change everything that has to be changed,” is a contradiction between the subject and the object of change. When Cuban communists turn this maxim into their new motto, that are thinking “everything that needs to change” in order for socialism to survive, and what they don’t realize is that for the survival of the nation what has to change is socialism.

When I say “socialism” I’m talking about the political, social and economic model with a limited dose of flexibility whose golden rule has four inviolable parts:

  1. The purpose of producing to satisfy the ever-growing needs of the population.
  2. That each contributes according to his capacity and receive according to what he contributes.
  3. That the fundamental means of production are socially owned.
  4. Implementing the dictatorship of the proletariat to eradicate the bourgeois class and to prevent new generations born under the system from resuscitating the appetite for property, the insatiable desire to prosper more than others.

To reject any one of these rules constitutes, according to Lenin, an unpardonable revisionism with disastrous consequences. What the Cuban Communists have not detailed in their Sixth Congress, and probably won’t detail in their upcoming Conference, is whether among what they propose to change is the ideological basis of Marxist-Leninism. If so, they are deciding once and for all to change the name of their organization and baptize it the Cuban Fidelist Party, or whatever occurs to them. This is where you go to find a guaranteed failure if what you are trying to change is human nature, far from the fanciful laws of history imagined in the nineteenth century.

24 April 2011

An End to Eternity / Reinaldo Escobar

I already know that eternity has no end, or a beginning, but let’s be dialectic and apply the theory of relativity to the concept. If, from the time you begin to develop a notion that the country where you were born has a leader who remains in power until he retires and all our projects finish, then that, in terms of the finite of human life, counts as an eternity.

That’s why I felt a passing crisis of optimism when I heard Raul Castro announce that from now on, the government and party positions could only last for a maximum of ten years, which is the same as two periods of 5 years with only one reelection allowed.

All those I tried to fill with my enthusiasm stared at me with either pity or indignation. I even was upset with myself when I remembered that assembly which took place before the 4th Communist Party Congress in 1991 when they gave us permission to give our opinions on whatever we wanted, and I came up with the idea of proposing the same idea which has now been approved. Is it possible that I was ahead of my time, as befits a great visionary? Or perhaps it has to do with a measure which has been passed too late, for it should have done 20 years ago.

Had it happened that way, the then First Secretary would have had to start counting his term from that very moment, and in 2001 the second would have passed on to be the first, and, interestingly enough, in that same year Raul Castro would have finished his second mandate, supposing that he’d be undoubtedly been reelected in 2006.

Will we have to wait until 2021 to know the name which will be chanted and acclaimed by the delegates of the 8th Communist Party Congress, or will a hole open up in time and we will jump ahead, without any previous warnings, into another dimension?

Translated by Raul G.

20 April 2011

Spaniards in the World / Yoani Sánchez

The capitol, rum, salsa music played on street corners, cars that look like collector’s pieces although under the hood they are falling to pieces. This and more in the chapter, “Spaniards in the World,” filmed here in Havana. Fifty minutes with stories of immigrants from Asturias, Galicia, Andalusia, which have transported their dreams from the other side of the Atlantic. Everything is nice and blue, sprinkled with salt; but something doesn’t fit.

While I watch the serial I have the impression that what they’re showing me is another country, a distant dimension in sepia tints. The life stories of the seven main characters happen, for me, in a space far from the daily life I know. And though I repeat — to calm myself down — that the serial is about Spaniards spread across the globe and not about Cubans lost in their own geography, as the credits run I can’t escape the feeling of having been conned.

The writers cleverly hide the detail that those interviewed possess prerogatives unattainable for natives. They fail to say that spending a night at the Bodeguita del Medio, or at the Tropicana cabaret, renting an office in the Bacardi building, managing cosmetic or tobacco companies, dining on lobster and wine, are privileges accessible — almost exclusively — to the wallets of foreigners. Not to mention the beautiful sail on the yacht in one of the final scenes, prohibited by law to the nation’s 11 million people. It lacks, this modern and diverting program, the explanation of the imbalance, the story about the gap that separates the world of these Spanish who come here from the world of the Cubans who were born here.

The video Españoles en el mundo – La Habana

23 April 2011

The Congress of White Guayaberas / Iván García

The first change in the Cuban mandarins at the Communist Party 6th Congress was in the look. If, in the prior congress, in 1997, the hierarchy wore the hot and intimidating olive green uniform, now the fashion of those who led the sessions and debates was the typical guayabera.

White, as well. As if to transmit purity and political transparency. Raul Castro, and his staff on combat alert intent on rescuing the dying local economy, sat at the presidential table showing impeccable guayaberas.

And says before, during the courtesy visit of the ex-president Jimmy Carter, both the American and his host exhibited this most Cuban fashion. The guayabera sits better on the General than the military uniform.

This shirt has a history. I wrote about it in “From the olive green to the guayabera” a post published in December 2010 in Tania Quintero’s blog. Anecdotes aside, Cubans have always like the guayabera for its comfort and freshness.

Among those who resisted throwing it into the trunk of memories were the peasants, who continued wearing it for weddings, baptisms and parties.

Castro II wants to return to Cuban traditions in dress. On countless occasions, his brother Fidel wore suits, well cut and with elegant ties. On foreign visits Raul has also dressed in suits from good tailors. The most striking was a white one, which he wore in July 2009 during a brief stay in Salvador de Bahia, Brazil.

But from October 6, 2010, when a decree declared the guayabera to be official dress, Castro II makes a point of it. In the 6th Congress, if there was something that marked a difference from the five previous ones, it was the wearing of guayaberas. Especially all white ones.

April 22 2011

Notes from Captivity XV / Pablo Pacheco

“Vicissitudes of an Isolation Cell”
by Pablo Pacheco Avila

My time behind the bars taught me to value the characteristics of each common prisoner, avoiding any sort of unnecessary confrontations. Imprisonment actually teaches you a great deal, but you have to learn quickly in order to survive through so much human misery.

One morning we did not receive the water that was supposed to be supplied to us by our jailers. Almost instantly, we political prisoners began to protest because we barely had enough water to drink or to bathe ourselves. The response from the guards was simple: “the turbines are broken and there are repair trucks on their way with more pipes to supply water for the prison”. And that’s how it occurred.

At mid-morning I received a note from a common prisoner whose last name was Garcia. In the letter he told me that the re-educator, Yosbany Gainza, had gone by his cell in an attempt to find out more about his good relations with the political prisoners within the jail. Garcia’s response was that he did so because he sympathized with their cause. A few days later, he disappeared.

When lunchtime came around, they served us white rice, “crazy broth” (boiled water, one viand, some sort of pasta, and a meat bone with a bad odor), quimbombo, guava jam, milled corn flour, and a plate of soy pasta which was an insulting main dish. It had been days since I had seen some sausages which my wife left me during a family visit, which they served along with my other food. I had a terrible surprise when I opened the container they had been kept in. The foul smell invaded the surroundings of my dungeon and I had realized that they had gone rotten.

When I told my brothers-in-cause about what had happened with the sausages, they each sent some of the sausages they had left. They knew that I barely ate any food from the prison, and because of this I had lost a great amount of weight, which proved to be disastrous for my health. With time, I was diagnosed with a kidney infection, and on more than one occasion the political police suggested I undergo surgery. But I always refused this option based on the suggestions of my wife.

Three years later, when I was transferred to the Morón Prison, a Urologist gave me a diet designed to increase my weight. He also gave me a belt for my pelvic region which would keep my kidney from dropping any lower and also gave me some preventive medication. Fortunately, I was able to recuperate.

When night fell and I saw that I had not received any mail from my loved ones, I realized that the day had been one of those not worth remembering. The mind gets deteriorated when one is kept in an isolation cell, and even the most minimal detail can push you into a vicious cycle which can negatively influence your relationship with others. Without noticing it, you become psychologically damaged. The dictatorship knows this, hence their decision to keep us isolated from the rest of the jail population for more than 16 months.

Before going to sleep that night, an operations guard from the prison, with the last name Ortiz, swung by “The Polish” to carry out the nightly prisoner count.
When I brought up the water issues he responded, “I also have not been able to shower. But tomorrow will be another day”.

I simply could not swallow such sarcasm so I shouted back at him, “you are the perfect example of cynicism, and one day you will pay for all the abuses you’ve inflicted on others”.

“Pacheco, I’m not in the mood for you today,” came his response.

I did not shower that night, but thanks to other prisoners who sent me some of their own water, I was able to quench my thirst and put together a refreshing drink before going to sleep. The next morning, the water turbines were once again working and the water was finally getting to us again. The irregularity with this precious liquid happened during various occasions. Those of us who had been held captive in “The Polish” were always convinced that this was just another method utilized to torture us and destabilize us.

20 April 2011

Free Voices from Cuba Share their Opinions (Part I) / From Pedazos de la Isla

This post is from Pedazos de la Isla which can be read in English here.  The blog is the work of Raul Garcia, Jr. who translates innumerable blog posts and supports and encourages the bloggers via email and telephone.

Following the celebration of the ignominious 6th Communist Party Congress in Cuba this past Saturday April 16th, various international media outlets have baptized the event as a “step towards reform and changes”.  The regime of Havana, content with such a reception, continues trying to promote its image of benevolent “reformist” through their propaganda tactics.  Interesting enough, many of those news reports done by international reporters do not make much mention about the massive military parade which was held just a few hours before the Congress.  Ironically, they rapidly point out the promises and the supposed achievements of the revolution, but ignore to also point out that the Cuban government continues promoting (and using) violence within Cuban society.

The reality within the island continues to be the same, if not worse, as always.  The political police, responding to direct orders from those who reside in power, continue to mistreat, beat, incarcerate, and threaten peaceful dissidents.

Since the Cuban state does not allow dissenting or opposing voices to be heard through the national media, I decided to dedicated this space to some voices which represent that dignified resistance movement within Cuba, as well as civil society.  We have already been able to read the commentaries made by the Cuban press and by the international press, but now I invite you all to hear some reports straight from the island.  Listen to their opinions about the massive military march and the 6th Communist Party Congress.  I had the immense luck to chat with each one of these brave Cubans and closely listen to their reactions.  I refer to these voices as “free voices” because, despite the fact that they are living under a totalitarian state which prohibits democracy and free expression, they are brave individuals who have chosen to live like free human beings, choosing to face any risks or repressions for saying and doing what they think, as opposed to remaining quiet and letting themselves be swallowed by apathy and desperation.

Laritza Diversent

The military march, which was made up of all those military machines which, I must confess, I do not even know what they are called, was simply a message on behalf of the Cuban government which said ‘look at the arsenal of weapons we have’. In other words, it was a way of saying that they are prepared for any kind of attempt against them. Many people inside of Cuba, mainly the men who have gone through military service, know that all those equipments and tanks are Russian technologies that cannot be compared to modern military technology currently in use throughout the world. All the equipments displayed in the march are practically obsolete. What people were really complaining about were extensive expenses attached to the display, meanwhile the country is going through a difficult economic time, when each day the prices of basic goods goes up, mainly the price of food.

From my point of view, the Congress was totally insignificant, because they say one thing there but what they do in reality is something else. One of the characteristics of Cuban politics is that it is very fickle. At one moment, they decide one thing and next thing you know they change their decision completely. Taking these processes into account, they celebrate their Congress, they take their measures, and they reach agreements upon themselves. There is no restructuring of the Party and there is no democratic restructuring either. But none of this has any importance for the citizens of Cuba. It has no importance in comparison to the importance it has outside of Cuba. And this is precisely because very few Cubans are interested in politics, or simply they do not understand it. And they feel this way because of the “back and forth” of the government, while one day it says one thing, tomorrow it’ll say another, and so on. Because of this insecurity, we do not pay any attention to this Congress.

All those civilians present in the march do not go voluntarily. At stake are their salaries, compromised primarily of foreign currency, their jobs, etc. Most of the time, the government does not say that it is mandatory to assist such events but those who were born here in Cuba know very well that what they say is ‘those who wish to go, may go’, but they also know that there exist political guarantees which follow you wherever you go (primarily in work or school), and that there are consequences waiting in store. Bonuses are given to “the best”, not to those who do not carry out the chores assigned to them by the revolution”.

Luis Felipe Rojas

“The military march was a pure display of muscles; a demonstration of force in a country where the sale of arms is prohibited and where the possession of any sort of weapon is highly penalized. This country has not received a single attack since 1961, and even then, it was not carried out by foreign forces but instead by a group of non-conformed Cubans. The weapons we saw displayed in the march were obsolete in comparison to the modern weapons displayed elsewhere in the world. The purpose of the march was not to prevent any invasion, but to instead to prevent any sort of uprising against the commandments of the Cuban revolution.

The Communist Party Congress, presided over by General Raul Castro, leaves the Cuban people with more doubts. I also must point out that none of the previous agreements of the 5 other Communist Congresses have ever been fulfilled. More than 40 years have passed since the first Party Conference and they have not fulfilled a single one of the accords. So then, the question is, what are the party members really doing? The low quality and degree of inefficiency of the Communist party is really tiresome.

No concrete measures which could improve the life of the people have been established. And I say this in regards to those who were actually hopeful about this Congress. I was one of those who wasn’t expecting any changes”.

Marta Diaz Rondon

“The military march held in Havana was only done with the purpose of intimidating the people, so that they would not protest. It was a way for the government to show that they have special troops ready to confront any person who would decide to take to the streets at any moment. That’s why the march was strategically held before the Congress. But despite that, the people are still protesting because it has been 52 years of suffering for us Cubans. We have been the ones that have had to live through all of this.

Those who are most corrupt are those who govern the country, starting with the Castro brothers and all the way down to the Central Committee, including all those who govern in the provincial levels.

This past Tuesday, April 12th, I met with a group of rural opposition members in Los Pinos, Banes. There we started conversations and debates regarding the famous 6th Communist Party Conference. The Congress, of course, is a facade because it is only the rulers who are allowed to take part. No other Cuban is allowed. Every person there is chosen by the government.

During Thursday of last week they were organizing a mob act against me in Banes. At that moment I wasn’t in Banes, though, as I had left early that morning to Holguin to meet with the activists. Ever since Wednesday, Banes has been under tight surveillance of the political police. The entrance of Reina Luisa Tamayo’s home is completely surrounded by police and they are not allowing anyone to go in. I believe that the government is fearful that the people will take to the streets, seeing as Cubans are suffering more each passing day.

I think the Communist Party Congress is very unfavorable for us Cubans, the everyday Cubans. And we are already protesting on the streets”.

Caridad Caballero Batista

“First of all, this government has always used things like this military march to its advantage. They’ve always had their people threatened and harassed. Those are the characteristics of the rulers of our country. It’s a way of symbolically saying ‘this is what we have for you’. Raul Castro said he was going to continue in power and also spoke of some other measures, but none of which are good news for Cubans. There is a total state of abandonment towards the people. Any benefits are reserved for those in power, leaving the rest of the country with no options.

During all of this, Ulisses Ramon Llanes, a prisoner, died in the Granma provincial prison because of  scarce, or no, medical attention. The countries’ rulers have never paid attention to any of this. The jails are full of men who are practically innocent and they are left to die because of scarce medical assistance, physical abuses, etc.

The Congress was simply a list of restrictions for the country.

Castro also mentioned that the government could not keep the “people” from defending their streets. But those who carry out mob acts are not spontaneous people; it is their people who oppress the opposition.

Every passing day we continue to be dissatisfied and we are constantly expecting the worse on the government’s behalf, because they will never facilitate anything for us”.

Pedro Arguelles Moran

http://www.translatingcuba.com/images/ivan/pedro-arguelles-moran.jpg

The military march was an awful waste which consisted of far too much wasteful economic spending, which instead could have been invested in Cuban society- in the production of food, goods, and services. But it was definitely not worth it to spend that extraordinary amount on something that is not important, something that is violent and against humanity instead of investing on medicine or education. I consider it to have been unnecessary, absurd, and ironic, especially in a time where we are demanding peace, solidarity, and national reconciliation. To me, it’s simply absurd. This has all taken place in a country where the economy does not exist and that is in a total crisis.

The march is just a form of intimidating the population because the government is aware of the fact that the people are paying attention to what is happening in Northern Africa- in Egypt, Libya, etc. They are sending out a warning to the citizens that they have military powers.

As for the Congress, it was just another form of demagoguery. It’s another act of populism, and none of the problems which Cuba faces will be solved through that Congress. It’s simply the continuation of the same. And in addition, they also justified the despicable mob attacks against dissidents.

The people know that it is all a lie. They do not believe in the Congress, because they have lived through more than 50 years of lies. The Communist Party Congress was a psychological tactic to give off the illusion of openings and changes.

More to come…

The Same Names / Claudia Cadelo

"This last Congress has been historic!" "Why...? Is it really the last?" Image: Garrincha

When I look at the images of the Sixth Congress the irrationality startles me. When I hear the list of delegates, the members of the Politburo and the Central Committee, I feel physically sick: Machada Ventura, Balaguer, Cintas Frias and an elderly etc., prevent me from continuing to listen objectively. To top it off, Raul Castro decides to tell a story about family machismo which seemingly belongs in a Mexican soap opera: he cuts Machado Ventura off after some brief gossipy chatter. Certainly this scene would have been more appropriate in front of the kitchen stove than at the long-awaited Communist Party Congress.

The worst — or best, depending on your interpretation — is that we have to wait until January 28, 2012 to implement the changes. It was assumed that the super-change would be now, but they give us a tiny-change and once again postpone the big-change. Raul Castro laments the archaic dogma, promises (another) rectification, predicts a future of younger leaders and assures us that, slowly, socialism and the revolution will be saved. The General knows, he has to know, that his promises will be fulfilled only when he is no longer on the Central Committee, when he is no longer First Secretary of any party, when a truly new wave of public officials assume power. And it is precisely this that is the imperative of the powerful elderly: minimize change and play a politics of drop-by-drop, to put off as long as possible the inevitable change, the end of the Party’s omnipresence.

But even I, the Queen of Incredulity, feel a certain optimism. The economic freedoms that the Cuban government is now forced to concede at the risk of “collapse” will be the foundation of social and political freedoms that we will snatch from them tomorrow. Because then, too, they will be compelled to concede, otherwise they will perish.

April 22, 2011

Decalogue for a Cuban Blogger / Ernesto Morales Licea

From their literary Mount Olympus, where they had already given the world their tremendous fiction, Borges, Monterrose, Quiroga, Bukowski, wrote Decalogues for young writers. Decalogues and, perhaps, subtle warnings.

Others, not content with brevity, took it more seriously; Rainer Maria Rilke published his “Letters of a Young Poet,” and Mario Vargas Llosa, balancing genders, his “Letters to a Young Female Novelist.”

I share only one aspect with them, the disease of writing. I’m not an Olympic winner, although I blatantly desire it. But I have an advantage over them in one way: these gentlemen of deserved immortality (saving the recent Nobel Prize winner, who is still alive), never knew the word “blog.” Not even a fantasist like Ray Bradbury could envision a future of digital spaces where one can publish with demonic freedom.

So today I wanted to perpetuate the tradition. This time, outlining a Decalogue that, sadly, lacks universality: I wanted to dedicate it to a potential Cuban blogger who, perhaps, at this precise moment, is assessing the possibility of opening his defiant blog.

1. You have already decided, and given it a name. You’ve launched it on the great web. With luck, some colleague will promote is in his own space and earn you your first readers. Well then, you know: you just took on a tremendous weight. Your blog does not become a pet, it becomes your child. And the difference from a pet is that you can play with them for a while and leave them at home whenever you like, but children won’t tolerate the distancing. You know that, like Cortazar’s text about the clock, you haven’t given yourself a gift of a blog: you’ve just become the gift for a blog that from now on will keep you on your toes.

2. The day you publish your most painstaking text, you might count ten readers, of whom half will have come to your site by mistake. The day you publish your most mediocre and unfinished text, you could attract the attention of someone very well-known on the web, and be recommended. This day you will have thousands of readers to whom you won’t be able to say, “Please, when you finish this one, go read the other one, it’s better…” First conclusion: never publish fillers. Second conclusion: pray that the day on which you publish the filler, the text that you couldn’t improve, no one with credentials will decide to visit you.

3. As you live in Cuba, freedom of expressions sounds like a hollow expression to you. However, you know you need it. And you try to procure it swimming against the current. This will always be admirable. Infallible rule: readers can tell when something is written honestly, and when it is written obeying orders from above. Spaces written from the need to express oneself, will always have incomparably more followers, people who consult them, readers in general, than ones written because it’s your job. Perhaps this answers your question about why official Cuban bloggers can only count on their family and friends as faithful readers.

4. Your daring will earn you immediate followers. They will applaud your courage in facing the regime you disapprove of. It’s beautiful. But take care: don’t believe all the applause is sincere. Many applaud only when your posts match their own points of view. Some alleged democrats who will cheer you on will also be the first to throw you into the flames, if something you write with the same honesty as usual goes against ideas that to them are nonnegotiable. The lesson is: Remember you are all alone. Remember you must obey yourself, your vital impulses, And you should be less and less interested in applause.

5. And as you are alone in the conceptual, so you are in practice as well: it doesn’t matter how many times you ask for financial help to sustain your blog. It doesn’t matter how many thousands of people take it as a reference. In the instant in which some of those thousands of readers have to make a contribution for your work, you will become fully aware of your quixotic solitude. Fine irony: the same ones who demand that you update, who demand certain themes and approaches, they are the one who, once they finish reading, lose all interest in your page even if you say you need some economic support. The loneliness of the writer and of the blogger are flesh of the same flesh.

6. An interesting point: never doubt, despite the loneliness of the previous point, you will find supposed administrators of your blog, censors, directors of your editorial policy. It doesn’t matter that you affirm, over and over, this is my space, here I say what I say, for this I created it. It doesn’t matter. Someone will always come along to tell you, “I think you shouldn’t write on this topic, but rather on this one.” Someone else will come along to tell you, “You are completely wrong, what are you thinking to say this?” And you will come to doubt, between responding that you are the author of this page, that you don’t ask permission from a reader to write, just as you don’t ask it of the government; or you will respond with your silence. There are times when silence is better. Don’t waste resources defending your right to say whatever you like. Those who at times wear us down, we have to accept that they’re a lost cause: they don’t understand that your freedom of expression is the truth.

7. The other side of the coin, which must be dealt with squarely, is the employees of Power. The diligent workers on the web, who find funding from the Island’s government, and whose only function will be, from now on, to fight your space. How? The methods are infinite. Get ready for a war without quarter, and without principles nor codes of ethics. These same people will post comments saying you are a child molester, that your sister is a lesbian, that they’ve heard verifiable rumors: for example that you are State Security. This is a brilliant tactic against which you can do nothing: there is very little harder to prove than innocence. Get ready to see photo montages of yourself, to know that your friends now reject you from fear, and that many doors will now be closed to you. Some in a literal sense. Ask since when Claudia Cadelo has not been able to pass through the doors of the Chaplin Theater. But you know what? There is something against which the employees of Power have no weapons: against your will to be dignified, your will not to remain silent. This is what will rob them of their sleep, not yours.

8. Don’t wonder how, because at times you won’t understand it, but rest assured that the people around you, even those you don’t know, will be reading your blog. Exotic phenomena attract attention. And a fearless blog in a county filled with cowards is an exotic phenomenon. When you think you are writing only for the world, be aware that your neighbor, though he won’t tell you, as a precaution, is reading and printing your texts. And secretly, he admires you.

9. Patience with human stupidity. If you accept that other people, your followers, are going to add their opinions below your writing, you should arm yourself with a solid shield against insults and nonsense. If you don’t have the iron constitution to deal with this, better that you turn the comment function off. It’s a simple thing: send them to the trash if they’re obscene or offensive, or approve them if they’re feisty but friendly. As you are alone in this, you don’t have to consult or ask for votes for and against. Your blog is your democracy, and don’t forget that since you suffer it, you decide.

10. Ask yourself, as Rilke asked the poets, if you could live without writing your blog. If the answer is yes, don’t take the trouble to start it. You will abandon it very quickly. If the answer is no, if your need to express yourself is unstoppable, if you think you really have something to say, ignore the nine points above and inscribe only these words in your mind: you will have no greater happiness than knowing you are true to yourself. Your blog will be a cry of freedom that we will from both sides of the sea.

April 18 2011