Author: Regina Cano

As most of us Cubans know, to participate in waiting in a line for hours means including oneself in a good barometer of opinion. And I sure did get to hear varied opinions on severak topics.

Some time ago, a man died in Alamar who was the last member of one of the most famous families around here, at least of those that I’ve known since the late ‘70s.

Legal or “bureaucratic issues” (as they’re also called) have in different ways, at different moments and for a long time robbed us Cubans of our lives, youth, adulthood and old age; particularly those issues having to do with housing, which I think surpass others by a large margin.

One can go through the neighborhoods of Havana and see kids (teenagers) looking up toward the sky, observing, or better said, looking for something. For those who are unfamiliar, this seems like something lacking an explanation.

One of the most common disorders among Cubans who have been or are builders is sacrolumbalgia, followed on the list of importance (not in order) by lumbar deviations, vertebrae separations, shoulder dislocations and others.

Humans exist in this world without actually being able to compete with the rest of nature. If not for the coats, umbrellas, metal tools and such, we’d hardly make it from one season to the next.

A few weeks ago I visited a family in the Luyano neighborhood that’s dealing with a tick infestation. Every day, more than once a day, a family member in the house has to remove ticks from their dog (a mutt mixed with a Labrador).

Since that period when Cuba ran into “La Desgracia” (the hard times of the 90’s), I’ve heard and seen how people grouped around different faiths in Havana, and possibly throughout all of Cuba.

More often than even he himself would have liked, he would repeat a phrase that always prompted the curiosity of anyone who heard it. He would say, “My neighbor, the master of the ritual,” which sounded as cryptic and mysterious to many Cubans as the secret Abakua sect to which he associated.