Translating Cuba

Those Cubans on the other side of 50 saw those days when we were kids disappear by the will of the Castrocracy; those awaited days of Christmas, when the whole family joyfully gathered around a properly set, well-loaded table, in a celebration more traditional than religious. Believers or atheists the end-of-year holidays were a reason to get together and share, to renew affections, to strengthen family ties.

The holidays ended at the beginning of January with the day most anticipated by the children, the Day of the Three Kings — Epiphany — when we woke ourselves early in the morning to find they toys brought by the kind Melchor, Gaspar and Balthazar. It was, as I remember, a ritual in which we went with our parents to look in the shop windows filled with bright and colorful toys during the days before, the never-failing letter to the Kings attached with great hope on the night of January 5th to the newest shoes we owned, and perhaps some gifts from us to the camels and their riders. For example, my older brother and I always put out grass for the camels to eat and a box of cigarettes for the Kings because we assumed that if our father smoked, surely the Kings did too.

If I’m not mistaken, it was the second half the decade of the ’60s when Christmas and the Day of the Three Kings were banned in Cuba. They were, according to the authorities, religious celebrations that had nothing to do with the Revolutionary and Marxist spirit of our process. Many parents maintained with great effort for a time the tradition of the Three Magi — mine among them, although they were atheists — and the government was clever enough not to eliminate the children’s party at one stroke: with the perversity that characterized they established a “standard” that would govern, for a long time, the distribution of toys so that all of us children were “equal” and so to overcome the unfair bourgeoisie differences where, they asserted, the rich kids had toys and the poor kids didn’t.

From that time every child had the right to three toys a year, one “basic” (costing more than five pesos at that time), and two “additional,” cheaper ones. Shortly after they would establish another variant and there would no longer be two additional, but rather one additional and another “directed.” This last would be a toy with very little monetary value — although in the end the truth is that the real value of a toy is what it gives each child — something like a trumpet, a packet of soldiers, a game of jacks, or a jump rope. A detail of the system, expert in limits and parceling out: toys were for children up to twelve years old. At thirteen you officially were no longer a child.

The so-called “Revolutionary Offensive” of 1968, which liquidated at one blow the last pockets of private property that survived in Cuba, also eliminated the possibility of purchasing some handmade toys sold in small little trinket shots and other family businesses. Havana, in particular, had countless of these little shops. My generation still remembers the variety of toys, for very reasonable prices, were bought in those modest establishments and with which many parents of the poorest families celebrated January 6 in their homes. Not to mention that the shops selling industrially produced toys offered something for all budgets.

At the beginning of the ’70s the official imagination introduced an even more perverse method: the draw. This consisted of a lottery based on the ration card numbers of each nuclear family that had a child between zero and twelve. Every number pulled out of the drum established the day and numerical order in which each person could buy, within the five days established for the sale of toys. Those who were able to buy on the first day got the best toys, and the unhappy who bought on the fifth day only got the leftovers.

It’s clear that by this stage the Three Kings had disappeared from the process; the toys arrived according to the luck of the drawn and we knew that it was our parents who bought them in the stores assigned to them. Another delicious detail of the system: they implemented a “Children’s Day,” celebrated in July, as a replacement for the traditional Three Kings Day on January 6.

But behold, the traditions and dreams can outlast any dictatorship and remain planted in the deepest cultural memories of a people. For several years now, without any official measure of approval, Cuban families have restored that peculiar monarchy of the Three Kings and it is now a rare home where the children don’t celebrate January 6. Melchor, Gaspar and Baltasar have returned, although with them they have also recycled the perversity of the system.

Now the shops of the Castrocracy offer toys, always in hard currency, for those parents who can buy them at the exorbitant prices on display Of course, there are no longer “basics,” “additionals” or “directeds”; there are no lotteries nor assigned coupons. It seems the government has already forgotten its aspirations for egalitarianism, but the facilities that existed long ago, when there were toys for every budget, have not been restored.

As for me, I welcome the return of the Three Kings, who ultimately never left the popular imagination. It’s too bad that now the Cuban dictatorship, in its never-ending cynicism, is using them for personal gain.

January 4 2013

By Julio César Gálvez

As every year, every time we approach the festivities of Christmas Eve, Christmas and New Years, the Cuban military are far from home and family, locked in their barracks or running from one place to another after a fictitious enemy or ghost landing. Nothing new. From the first of January 1959 there has always been a justification for this to happen. This year, 2012, will be no exception, as the characteristics that the history of Congo, Ethiopia, Angola and other countries where Cuban troops were involved in wars or guerrilla fronts is being repeated in Venezuela this year end.

Many of  major world media announced today that a tracheotomy had to be performed in Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez to keep him on life support after suffering a respiratory infection after his fourth operation for pelvic cancer.

The situation seems quite serious, when the chosen successor to Chavez, Vice President Nicolas Maduro has called, from Havana, several Venezuelan leaders who support Chavez, Diosdado Cabellos, president of the National Assembly, perhaps with the intention of their serving as witnesses to the possible death or impossible inauguration of Chavez as president for another term of office this coming January.

Given the uncertainty that they could escape from government control in the event of either of the two variants, the members of the Cuban intelligence and the Cuban military in Venezuela are on high alert. To this must be added the thousands of doctors, health personnel, teachers, coaches, close to 50,000 people, who by necessarily are subject to the orders of Cuban Brigadier General Andollo, top leader of all of the island’s personnel now in Venezuela.

The possibility of a coup in favor of Maduro, the “godson” of Fidel Castro, which would enable  the Island’s regime to maintain the ample supplies of money and oil, floats in the atmosphere.

We have to wait to see what happens, but for now, on December 15, Fidel Castro already said goodbye in person to his disciple, a leave-taking embodied in a note to Chavez supporters published by the press: “I have complete confidence in you as in him, and however painful his absence might be, you are capable of continuing his work.” This was addressed to the Cuban military in Venezuela.

December 23 2012

By Carlos Alberto Montaner

Site manager: This once-in-a-great-while post from a Cuban blog not written from the island gives a perspective on a critical unfolding event.

Hugo Chávez and the Castro brothers knew in the summer of 2011 that the Venezuelan’s chances of survival were almost nil and began to prepare for a post-Chávez era.

They would try to cure the loquacious lieutenant colonel, of course, but ever since the doctors realized the type of cancer he had (an aggressive and rare rhabdomyosarcoma), the gravity and extent of the metastasis and the delay in taking him to the operating room, nobody had any illusions.

But for a miracle, Chávez was sentenced to an early death. That is why the Castros concealed the medical information and handled the crisis in total secrecy. It was not a whim. It was a desperate and uncomfortable way to maintain political control. It was vital to keep up the pretense that Chávez would recover, so that no ambitions would flourish inside the restless tribe of presumptive heirs.

To the Cuban brothers, it was essential to sedate all the Venezuelans, especially the Chavistas, for the purpose of controlling and manipulating the transfer of authority in Caracas, so that Cuba might not lose the enormous Venezuelan subsidy, estimated at $10 billion a year by the University of Miami’s Institute for Cuban Studies.

The argument to be used would not be that, of course, but “the need to save the Bolivarian revolution.”

In August 2012, the Castros and the doctors assigned to treat such a delicate patient agreed that the outcome could come soon and that there was no guarantee that Chávez would arrive in a reasonable physical and mental condition at the December election (which is exactly what happened), so they moved the election up to Oct. 7. Those two months were crucial.

At that time, the Castros clearly thought that Chávez’s best replacement, from the perspective of Cuban interests, was Nicolás Maduro. Here was a reasonably intelligent man, at least voluble and endowed with a good memory, who was able to spout flamboyant historical sophistry of the type Fidel and Hugo like so much.

He was docile, obedient and accepted Castroism’s moral and ideological supremacy the way Chávez did. He seemed to be an attentive and disciplined disciple.

Besides, as often happens in the world of politics, one of his comparative advantages — in terms of the Castros — was his helplessness. Nicolás Maduro was not part of the 1992 coup attempt. He had no roots in the army. He did not control the United Socialist Party of Venezuela and wasn’t even a member of the National Assembly. In fact, his only tie to power was the backing of a dying Chávez and the support of the Cubans.

The Castros — who have an instinct for maneuvering and an astounding ability to fleece their allies — thought that, just as Hugo Chávez found in Cuba an essential source of strategic advice, international initiatives and information about friends and foes, Nicolás Maduro, given his weakness inside Venezuela’s power groups, would follow the same pattern of emotional and political dependency.

Of course, inside Venezuelan society, even inside the Chávez movement, there are many people (some of them in positions of command) who don’t approve of Cuba’s arrogant interference in the affairs of their country.

To them, it is inconceivable that a poor and backward island in the Caribbean, six times smaller than their country, with less than half the population of Venezuela, abysmally managed by a family/military dynasty for 54 years, struggling to change its economic model because it knows it’s disastrous, and in need of copious subsidy lest it collapse, should govern the Venezuelans and choose Hugo Chávez’s heir. Never before had they seen such an absurdity.

Soon the Castros will find out how difficult it is to control the destiny of another nation, unless they occupy it by military force, something that’s absolutely unthinkable. Then they will understand the profound meaning of the disconsolate phrase spoken by Bolívar: “I have plowed the sea.” What’s likely is that, after Chávez’s burial and despite all efforts to control the successor, the same will happen to the Venezuelan subsidy. It will soon become a memory.

Taken from El Blog de Montaner / original is in English

8 January 2012

“From the moment that the State operates
on the basis of bio-power,
the killer feature of the state itself
can only be assured by racism.”
Michel Foucault

The racial question in Cuba is not only about contempt between actors with different skin pigmentation. Racism, in the context of political and civil identity, is also observed among blacks and carries a charge of contempt and hatred for one’s own race.

This is not a virtual assertion. Many black reject their peers in pejorative and violent ways with barbaric words that are not always the fruit of the social context in which they have grown up, nor are they by their nature an invention of political racism in any of its stages.

They constitute variables of differences that could well be a justification motivated by the dominate group toward the dominated, not a present reality. Not all negative stigmas and stereotypes can be blamed on the dominant, when on many occasions blacks and mixed race people contribute to this phenomenon and applaud the submission as pure slaves of the 21st century.

Perhaps the desire of more than a few blacks to appear white is one of the many causes that lead to contempt for oneself to reach a better social position. Their great mistake is to claim an alleged racial advancement through growing whiter: never ceasing to be mixed race.

“My daughter is not going to marry a black man”… “In Cuban there’s no racism because my wife is white”… “I’m a black woman but my daughter is white”…  These are some of the expressions one years every day from poor black men and women, submissive toward those who step on them and mock them because they haven’t known how to emancipate themselves from mental slavery. These expressions only serve to reinforce what whites think of them, and delay the search for an inclusive homeland within the diversity and social equilibrium.

The test of a single drop of blood in the United States to prove is a person is white or black, could be classed as racists if only we stick to the practice. But this proof also gives a sense of belonging to Afro-Americans, who live with the African pride that belongs to them and have been able to take advantage, in a society which, although it hasn’t overcome all prejudices, is among the first in the world in recognizing and making room for differences.

In Cuba, where independent groups now struggle against racism and gender exclusion, we must learn to recognize, understand and know that our starting point was the same for everyone. De must stop believing that we are all equal when we are living a reality that contradicts it.

Published by Primavera Digital, December 13, 2012 • Year 5

8 January 2013

In Cuba, as in the rest of the Americas, interest in the novels is proverbial. First simply as reading; then in listening t on the radio and late seeing on television. From these latter, the contemporary population borrowed some names to highlight certain developments. For example, private establishments that sell food are called “Paladares” (palates), a term from a Brazilian telenovela.

But it is not just ordinary citizens who have resorted to this practice. In general elections for the National Assembly, government authorities promote the candidacy for the highest single parliamentary investiture with the title novelistic “Todos Valen” (all are worthy), taken from another Brazilian soap opera.

This year, on February 4, there will be voting for the National Assembly. Candidates, 612, shall be elected under this novel-based consideration: Todos Valen. Half of them have been designated by a nomination committee that is not the least bit candid. The vast majority belong to the Cuban Communist Party or the Young Communist League. All will be parliamentarians grateful to their political benefactors. All of them should prepare to raise their arms repeatedly skyward in the most unanimous votes of the hemisphere. All will be new players in the novel of the Cuban legislature, which has repeated itself in every meeting of the parliament since its creation 36 years ago. Those who agree. Those who oppose. Those who abstain. Adopted unanimously.

Rafael Leon Rodriguez

January 8 2013

She doesn’t need castles, noble titles, estates, gigantic personal parcels nor grand properties. She is the daughter of a general, and not just any general, she is the daughter of the general-president of Cuba.

Mrs. Mariela Castro is the owner by inheritance of one of the greatest and most coveted treasures of any warlord: a country. Before 2006 she was the niece of the “historic dictator” and the daughter or the chief of the Cuban army and an outstanding female guerrilla from Santiago de Cuba. I imagine that as she was growing up she could always count on the magic hand that benefits “the anointed leaders of power” and their friends and family. She just had to desire something for her fairy godmother with the olive-green wand to come to her aid and solve her problems.

It was her uncle together with a group of guerrillas who made the revolution, who established this model that violates the rights and freedoms of Cubans, and her father is one of its stewards.

Mariela studied psychology. Possibly due to her lineage — which allows her to resolve with a telephone call material issues, of logistics, foreign travel, etc. — that made her choose to direct the National Sex Education Center. She was also selected this past December, purely by chance, to become a member of the Cuban parliament. Things of princesses, who dynastically demand the dignity of the office, some would say, more attention, authority and protocols than enjoyed so far in Cuba. She will also receive deferential treatment on each foreign trip she chooses to take after February — does anyone doubt it? — as a parliamentarian.

I would not invest my time to write about it, if it weren’t that I think that behind these “whims” is the arrogance of the heiress and machination of real power to “keep their hands in the State pie” and maintain their lifestyles through being the children of the traditional leaders. With the infanta Mariela in the national chamber of “approved” notables, they guaranteed “her election” — always unanimous, of course — to occupy the future vice-royalty of the country, which has been turned into a feudal fiefdom of one family that combines abuse of power, disrespect and contempt for the freedom of Cubans, with the “castrating” meaning of its own surname.

Rosa Maria Rodriguez Torrado

January 8 2013

By Ignacio Estrada Cepero, Independent Journalist

Havana, Cuba. Last weekend the America Theatre presented the show “Another Dawn”. The staging brought the Havana audience musical themes composed by Meme Solis one of Cuba’s most famous musicians. After his departure into exile his compositions were banned on Cuban stages, until this, the first tribute.

Meme’s musical lyrics were interpreted Saturday and Sunday, the 6th and 7th, by the voices of renowned Cuban artists such as Rosita Fornés, Omara Portuondo, Ela Calvo, Olga Navarro, Miguel Ángel Piña, Mario Aguirre, Rosa María Medel, Rosa María Arnaez, Haila, Ivette Cepeda and others.

On each occasion the America Ballet surprised with its choreography, this time by Amaury Mina and Juan Carlos Castano in which they were directed by Yamira Suarez and Gray Zayas.

The show was directed by Yanelys Tuya, scenery was by Maykel Sanchez, orchestration recorded by Osvaldo Rodriguez and Tomas Rivero, the original idea and staging was by Raul de la Rosa.

Havana showed its appreciation with its applause in packed houses, not only recognizing Meme’s work, but the value of those who, after his departure, continued performing his musical numbers in Cuba.

Meme Solís did not travel to Havana for this tribute but, surely must be feeling the fraternal warmth that greeted his music in Havana. Converting this musical set into one of the key pieces for “Another Dawn.”

January 7 2013

I was invited by my son and his wife, who live in Canada and are visiting Cuba, to TienTan, a restaurant located in Havana’s formerly populous Chinatown, now reduced to a few blocks and almost devoid of Chinese save for some descendants.

We made our way along darkened streets and broken sidewalks until we arrived at an area illuminated by paper lanterns and colored lights with restaurants on either side.

The restaurant, almost at the end of the street, is considered one of the best of its kind. It spreads out over three separate sections. The first is at street level, near singers and dancers trying to make a little money. Another is further inside, and the third, which is air-conditioned, is on the floor above.

It is a very pleasant place with first-class service and a wide selection of dishes from this Asian country, all carefully prepared and magnificently presented, which make it worth recommending. Some of the prices are high for the average Cuban, but someone with access to hard currency could afford to eat there from time to time. Foreigners, however, would consider the prices normal for this specialized type of restaurant.

After dinner we decided to take a stroll to aid digestion. We walked alongside the Capitolio, now undergoing repairs, and crossed over from Central Havana to Old Havana and to Casa Gaia, a cultural center located on Teniente Rey Street, near the old Droguería Sarrá, to hear some jazz.

The center, housed in a tastefully restored old building, mounts theatrical productions for adults and young people, art exhibitions and concerts, as well as other social and cultural events. It operates quite independently of official networks thanks to the tenacity of its director, who combines artistic talent with business acumen, and its Cuban and foreign collaborators.

Performers included the musician and composer Orlando Sánchez from Cuba jazz, accompanied by Ruy López Nussa on drums, the saxophonists of 5 Pa’ Sax and Roberto García on trumpet. Whether performing instrumental solos or accompaniments with the singer Danae Blanco, the musicians displayed a high degree of interpretive skill.

There were musical offerings for all tastes—from Brasilian, American and French to Cuban. The audience, which included both Cubans and foreigners, seemed pleased, rewarding the performers with their applause in an atmosphere of joy and happiness.

In general our daily troubles were forgotten at TienTan and Casa Gaia and,before we knew it, the time had passed in the heat of a Cuban winter’s night. One is always grateful for good times.

January 7 2013

By Ignacio Estrada Cepero, Independent Journalist

Havana, Cuba. On different occasions I, like other colleagues of the alternative press and the Cuban blogosphere, have published images that the official press, out of complicity, prefers to put to one side.

The images show the beggars in Cuba, despite the false promises made at the triumph of a badly managed revolution led by someone who today is pure history, Fidel Castro.

The Cuban nation is living in this time of increasing numbers of beggars or needy people in the streets who ask for help not only from nationals but also from foreign visitors. The social cuts and abandonment of Raul’s regime have left thousands of people without protection all over the island. This has led to an environment that brings the needy into the streets.

For the most part the population of beggars is old people of both sexes, another significant number are alcoholics and people with psychiatric or mental problems and a smaller number are children who runaway from their homes without their parents’ permission in some cases.

The situation is one of the most shameful realities that open the promised equality and well-being to criticism; what was once just words in the mouths of young people who had no other purpose than to deceive a nation, with the only aim being to enthrone themselves through the suffering of those they deceived.

Images will remain veiled as long as there is a single one of them need, I recognize that some beggars devote themselves to the collection of raw materials, others sell peanuts, or resell various articles, and I applaud you and see in you the mirror of a nation whose values are devoured by the only cause of so much poverty.

Today the blame will fall on the real culprits of each of these images. Those who intend to become “Images of the Outraged of the Revolution.”

January 7 2013