There are definitions, slogans and ways of saying things that continue to be used out of habit, although in reality little remains that justifies these names.  We continue to talk about a social equality that cannot be found anywhere, of a sovereignty that contrasts with our actual dependence on foreign markets, and an ideology… Continue reading Change the sign

  The big question on Saturday evening is not what can we do, but how can we afford to pay for a night out priced, for the most part, in convertible pesos? For a young couple, going to a disco can mean, a cost, at  least, of ten “chavitos.”*  Hence, house parties or the Saturday… Continue reading French Film Festival

In your sneakers with the Nike logo on the tongue you sneer at my synthetic leather sandals, while I calculate that your Italian sunglasses cost you a month’s salary. You pull a pack of Marlboro cigarettes that you bought in Vía Uno out of your purse and offer me one, even though you know that… Continue reading “Adidas’ Kingdom”

  In my Soviet elevator of the Brezhnev era, a drop of oil began to fall from the emergency exit in the ceiling. The persistent drizzle does not clash with the technical condition of the elevator, but rather matches the chipped floor, the obscene graffiti and the horrifying noise the doors make when they open.… Continue reading Adapt or change

  Two years ago social workers knocked on my door.  They came as part of an overblown campaign called “Energy Revolution” to change my incandescent light bulbs for energy-savers.  I liked the warm yellow light from the living room lamp but a quick inspection by trained teenagers revealed a wasteful filament and I had to… Continue reading Obligatory shadows

In the Central Havana of guapos* and brawls where I was born, I learned that there are certain lines that a woman should never cross.  I have spent my life breaking the laughable rules of machismo, but today – and only today – I am going to take refuge in one of them, and precisely… Continue reading Men’s matters

  Along with many others in Havana, I am distressed by the police operation that dismantled various manufacturing networks that made plastic plates, teaspoons, and hair clips.  In the midst of a sweep against “social indiscipline” the police – after sweeping up the “divers” [see Blog entry “Diving in murky waters” June 10, 2008] –… Continue reading Loose hair

Thanks to the friends I’ve gained through this Blog, I have a copy of the novel Chiquita, winner of this year’s Alfaguara Prize. It is likely that I have one of the few copies on the island, which compels me to read it quickly and pass it on to the list of friends who are… Continue reading Chiquita

  As in a game of pick-up sticks, where a fistful of thin rods are dropped from above, so have my colleagues and I been scattered across the enormous tabletop of the globe.  Those of us who studied together in the same classrooms, exchanged ideas or worked together on projects, could now make a network… Continue reading The hand that throws the sticks

I believe I am one of the few Cubans under forty who reads the national press every day.  My friends, seeing this eccentric hobby, have warned me that this may be the shortest route to a stomach ulcer.  However, I like to search the press for the rising profile of one or another political figure,… Continue reading Diving in murky waters