Hands emerging from well-cut suits at the UN pressed the red, green or yellow button today to rule on the blockade/embargo *.  Over the last few weeks, television has thrown at us the entire collection of statistics, testimonies and analysis on the ravages of the trade restrictions affecting Cuba.  The issue has been so manipulated… Continue reading The green button

This blog, public square, cockfight pit, exorcism and personal nightmare for the boys of the Cybernetics Response Brigade, is nominated for two prestigious awards.  Right now, Generation Y is listed as a finalist for the Bobs Awards granted by Germany’s international broadcaster Deutsche Welle.  We are proposed (notice that we use the plural because this… Continue reading Nominated

I don’t know what’s going on with the intolerant and hair, which they focus on more viciously than the rest of the body.  They have a special fixation with what sprouts from other people’s heads, whether it’s hair or ideas. In the seventies my father wanted to grow hair down to his shoulders, but the… Continue reading Scissors

A large madman kicks the cars in the middle of Ayestarán Street.  His clothes are ragged and on his arms you can see the “answering” scars received from some vehicles.  Another lunatic walks around Central Havana offending the president and his brother, while a nutcase spits her dissatisfaction against three impassive police officers. They make… Continue reading The impunity of the insane

Putting things in drawers and sorting and labeling them is not a task only for officials and bureaucrats.  There are some who take a special pleasure in hanging tags on citizens.  The art of listing us by categories has been a common practice in recent decades in Cuba.  One day you’re in the directory of… Continue reading Labels and lists

You can be 23 years old and see with the clarity of someone who has lived a great deal.  It’s possible to have a raggedy old laptop fossilized by the heat and to write a blog without breaking any keys in the effort.  She manages to say the hardest things—things the majority of people only… Continue reading The troubles of Lía

I argued with a lady in line for malanga root.  She wanted to let her two friends cut in and I figured that if they did I wouldn’t get the ten pounds of food, rationed since the hurricanes.  In the end I let the two old ladies cut the line and didn’t even insult them… Continue reading Bouillon cubes

Although a crack down has been announced against the diversion of resources, price speculation and stealing food, lately the official market has also collapsed.  In a brief tour of state-run cafeterias in my neighborhood, I could see a reduction in what is available.  A convertible peso restaurant* specializing in fish no longer sells shrimp pizzas… Continue reading The cat’s hairy tail

In late August I wrote a post titled “What I see around me” which, illustrated with pictures of several billboards, showed the signs that surround me.  These posters, television propaganda and political murals in workplaces form part of the visual inventory of the obligatory.  Images quite different from what we select when guided by our… Continue reading Superhits

The informal market is experiencing sharply rising prices these days. An egg now costs the high price of four Cuban pesos, one-third the average wage for a day’s labor. But the pockets of the buyers have not been the hardest hit; for those who illegally sell this product, conviction can lead to two years in… Continue reading Which came first?