It was that time of day when the thermometer soared, when electronic equipment demanded air conditioning or else risked burning out, and when everyone who was forced to wait in the open — but having at least a minimum freedom of movement — took refuge in some small island of shade.
Read MoreHere in Cuba, if any extenuating circumstance provides some measure of relief against the waning of desire, the fatigue caused by the sun or an environment that exudes abandonment, it’s the conversations one hears involuntarily.
Read MoreI remember that when I was a little girl, I liked to walk around outside our apartment building and search through the grass for treasures that chance would place in my path: a piece of gold-foil paper, a button in a peculiar shape, a piece of a toy… (8 photos)
Read MoreA writer read an essay that began with: “I was born in a country that no longer exists.” I ignored the fact that she was born in the former German Democratic Republic since I had no doubt that she was talking about Cuba. But what was most curious was that I wasn’t alone in having that impression.
Read MoreMy relationship with Cuba is a story of politics and love intertwined. I had a communist boyfriend with whom I argued a lot about the need to reform society, in France as elsewhere. He always ended the discussion by pointing to Cuba as an example of the new society we needed.
Read MoreMy son is sad because his best friend Leo, who now lives in Miami, — despite their having shared years and games, secrets and dreams, despite their last embrace, teary eyes and attachments that made them exchange e-mail addresses and promises — he has not sent a message.
Read MoreAs the popular saying goes, “You only value what you’ve lost.” It’s a sad statement – right? But since I’m trying to be fair, I always add that memories too are created and later recalled through the prism of nostalgia, with plenty of those memories becoming adulterated.
Read MoreWhat’s being trampled here is the Constitution of Cuba, our constitution. This constitution didn’t cost only sweat, it cost blood. It makes no sense to stand up in a mass rally and talk about heroes or recite poetry about them if we remain silent when it comes to defending their legacy.
Read MoreIn a chance encounter a few days ago, I heard a few words that shook me to the core. The friend of a friend was talking about his girlfriend, the daughter of a member of the Ministry of the Interior (domestic security).
Read MoreLast night I attended a meeting in my building to appoint a new president of our CDR. Despite the repeated call for a possible candidate (even a self-nominated one), the general reaction remained one of silence. Thirteen representatives from thirty apartments was not a very flattering figure. Yet, the gazes remained blank, without even a shadow of guilt.
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