Author: Veronica Vega

Some say all thoughts travel through space as vibrations and produce a reaction somewhere – like prayers with or without words that are somehow heard by a thinking universe.

Watching a film whose plot unfolds in Nazi Germany, I noticed how similar all autocracies are, how they are all grounded in a (distorted) sense of the good and, in order to establish themselves and manipulate the common substance of human dreams.

It is said that Jose Marti once declared that “poetry is more important than industry, for it can prop up or take down souls.” Being exposed to Cuban poet Francis Sanchez’ exhibition Cicatrices (“Scars”) made me understand two things…

A French journalist who was shooting a documentary here told me he was surprised I could speak of hope when referring to Cuba – not because he doesn’t want to be hopeful, but because the impressions he gathered during his visit to the island.

Whenever I see a self-employed person suffer the misfortune of Cuba’s legal system, I ask myself what would have become of people like Rockefeller or Carnegie had they been born on this island after 1959.

It’s not that we Cubans have lost an opportunity to speak our minds at that improvised grandstand, at that square that was hastily emptied by the authorities. The government has lost a great opportunity to demonstrate to us and the world that it isn’t lying about its intentions.

The reaction of many people to the sudden official announcement of a rapprochement between Cuba and the USA brings to mind a line from a popular reggaetón song: “A mí me gustan los yuma.” [“I like the yumas”]

Watching the joy with which people embrace the unfettered opportunism known as “planned obsolescence”, I ask myself how it’s possible that civically minded citizens educated in the democratic systems haven’t yet formed spontaneous mass movements to force companies to fabricate durable parts.

The post written by my colleague Irina Echarry entitled “Animal Abuse in Cuba, a Round Table Discussion”, reminded me of the first and only trip I made to the legendary Zoonosis animal shelter, in the Arroyo Arenas municipality.

Every time I see a group of people concerned about Cuba’s future, I feel a breath of hope. Every time that debate reaches the point of “are you a leftist…or just the opposite?” the conversation becomes tainted, and my hopes for Cuba trickle down the drain of exalted egos.