Veronica Vega

Desperately Seeking Cuba

A 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.

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Protesting in Cuba

My 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.

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The Amnesia of Coca Cola

My 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.

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Cuba and the Value of Silence

Last 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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Cuba: The Relativity of Courage

After reading “Drooling Over the Pope in Cuba,” a post by Yasmin S. Portales on the Pope’s visit to Cuba, I felt the need to share some of my concerns. Firstly though, I would like to clarify that I’m not Catholic or Christian, not in the sense of practicing any official brand of Christianity.

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