Author: Regina Cano

This hardworking man who was so dedicated to his family had worked in dairies since his very first job. He was very attached to nature, but especially to animals. “We always had cats and dogs in the house, plus we raised pigs,” he said self-assuredly.

She looked at us sideways and continued transcribing information from a small piece of paper, as five other people waited to be seen at that pharmacy. She was the only clerk at the counter, while another one was occupied in a lively conversation with the cashier along with someone from off the street.

The Zanqueros — who we see walking on stilts among people through the oldest part of the city — owe their existence to the motivation of “Las Crudas”, a rap trio made up of Odaymara, Olivia and Odalys.

Hearing all types of stories that have occurred around the world hasn’t immunized me from the surprise of things that happen here in Cuba due to material shortages.

Except from my childhood memories and the same reference made in a story by the now-deceased Cuban writer Manuel Cofiño about the El Madrid Café, I had never felt what I did when visiting the grill of one of the new generation of self-employed workers businesses near my house.

In my opinion, the average Cuban is an individual who believes in progress, who starts new families and seeks out ways to obtain food and shelter (in Cuba or outside the island).

At the job of a friend of mine, sprinkles of dusting powder* have appeared throughout the corridors and in the common areas of the facility.

A book is also a marketable commodity, involving “X” number of people collaborating to bring it to sale. In Cuba, however, the search for revenue has sometimes been only to sustain the State companies.

At the fair, the assistant director of the publishing house justified the omission of my credit as illustrator by saying that “it was an unforgivable slip”.

“The government store is charging eight pesos a pound for white sugar and six for brown sugar,” said my uncle the day they published that news. “You’re joking,” I replied, accustomed to his teasing.