Amongst the hundreds of messages that I get each week, there are certain questions and doubts that repeat themselves. Many are curious: “Who do I work for?” “Who are my parents?” “Who pays me to do this?” Without trying to convince anyone (because the business of exposing “my truth” is the closest thing to a mea culpa), I’d like to clarify a few things:
- I was born in a tenement in Centro Havana. In one of the corners of my street it said “Jesus Peregrino” and in the other “Jesus Pelegrino” (so since I was a child I have learned to live with the multiplicity of ways in which you can name the same thing).
- I don’t have any family pedigree that certifies me for anything, except the skill to fasten bolts and repair electrical equipment, inherited from my father, a train machinist who, in the crisis of the nineties changed his blue and white uniform for a post as bicycle repairman.
- Many of those who know me, think that in me “the elevator doesn’t go to the last floor,” or that I “have some screws loose” or that I’m “nuts.” Everything I have done in this little life, (get in trouble, write a thesis about literature in the dictatorship in Latin America, join my life with a disgraced journalist, return to my country and post in this Blog), could well be seen by a specialist as manifestations of a mental disorder. Everything is possible…
- For those who assert – under the impunity of a pseudonym – that I’m from the G2, I’d like to clarify that very few in Cuba still call it that. Now we call them “security,” “the Apparatus,” “the machinery,” “Armageddon,” “the crusher,” “the boys” or simply, “Them.” If someone asked a youth, “Hey, do you know what the G2 is?” maybe he’d answer that it’s a Rock group or a shoe brand.
- I don’t intend to give any proof that denies these accusations of “infiltration.” To those who are relieved and feel less guilty by thinking that “I dare because I’m protected” or because “I have been ordered to say this,” go ahead. Each one – at least in the small space of this Blog – can think and comment whatever he wants.
- In relationship to money, the material base or salary, I’d like to quote my husband when he says that I have “the soul of a fakir.” I dress with whatever is available, for years I’ve never had more than one pair of shoes, and I eat only once a day. Only one obsession with “consumption”crosses my life now: to post. The money I make translating from German, showing Havana to a couple of tourists or selling my old books at the university, I invest – when I can – in paying for half an hour on the Internet. That’s why my appearances in “Generation Y” are jumpy and don’t have the frequency of a Log.
- Why do I have a Blog, and others do not? Because I am from a generation that has learned to move in a world of technology, including having to assemble my own PC with parts bought in the black market. One of the contradictions happening in the Cuba of today, is that those who have interesting things to say, are, as a rule, information technology illiterates. So, the habitual readers of the blogs have to be content with people like me, without pedigree, but for whom the mouse is an appendage of our own body.
Photo speech balloon: For the G2 or for the CIA? That alone seems to be the question.