One Good One

November 13, 2025

HAVANA TIMES – In everyday family chatter — even when reacting to one of the countless occurrences that invade our reality day after day, but that happen in a setting that isn’t our own, let’s say… more public — it’s common to hear the phrase “Hasta cuándo” (“How much longer?”) uttered as a kind of overused cry for help.

It’s an expression that no one can clearly classify among the so-called exclamatory phrases; whether trying to use it with an admiring meaning, an interrogative one, or simply as a communicative remark. But in all cases, its intention is laid out plainly.

Some people — and there may be many of them — say it as someone would open a release valve, a kind of internal steam boiler, in order not to explode. Something like the function of a fuse that burns out to protect a valuable circuit. Others say it as if trying to measure the social temperature; like someone casting bait to see “what bites.”

Perhaps they’re seeking a complementary response to identify someone who thinks the same way, so they can open up — or, on the contrary, the least frequent outcome, use discernment and start talking about baseball or about how hot it is.

Others — and I’m guessing this is the overwhelming majority (redundancy intended) — say it because they simply can’t take it anymore, because the level of stress, of being on the verge of losing their mind or whatever it may be, leaves them no other choice but to speak to themselves, or to anyone, or even to God; who, they say, is everywhere and knows everything.

The matter at hand is the search for reassurance. One wants to have a more or less clear idea of how long this situation might last; because the most optimistic expectation I’ve heard came from a neighbor who almost shouted: “There’s no evil that lasts a hundred years!” as if to convince herself and leave it settled, as a “fact,” that although no one knows exactly when, surely it will be soon.

But then another neighbor replied, with a slightly annoyed tone: “Nor any body that can resist it, godmother!” Another muttered under her breath: “What’s really clear is that here the only security we have is State Security…” And someone who had been listening quietly asked her, feigning innocence: “Hey… and whose side are you on? With the Indians or the cowboys?” Something he didn’t need to say, because everyone already knew what came next — that saying has become a public catchphrase.

And right then a conversation began, the kind now often called changaneo, tiradera, or dale al que no te dio — basically a verbal free-for-all. The first woman jumped up, arms spread wide: “Oh yeah? What’s up with you?” To which the other replied: “Eh? What’s the problem?” And another voice from somewhere answered: “Nothing! What’s the problem, seamstress?!”

From that point on, everything turned into what it always becomes when someone simply says: “It’s on.” Which is a kind of imprecise technical term from old-school Havana slang, itself a kind of street jargon — like caló or lunfardo. In general, sometimes it ends in a noisy uproar — which can reach serious levels of public disorder — and other times it wraps up as a rumba party that lasts into the early morning hours.

And that’s why many people, somewhat calmer, perhaps a bit more “well-read,” think this is the reason everything stays the way it is. Which isn’t really a widely shared opinion across the full spectrum of viewpoints with weight. And although in my Havana things do “kick off” now and then, we still haven’t reached what you would call “a real good one.”

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