Dariela Aquique’s Diary

Once again like lambs they make it undeniable that the fear of words is like some sort of pandemonium infesting almost all the residents of this island.

There have been innumerable stumbles, and these experiences noted. However, I believe that what has been done in the corresponding measures has lacked a real determination to transcend our mistakes. Conceit reigns, in place of discernment.

“Listen, don’t come complaining afterwards. Just wait until you need a reference from me…,” shouted a woman to another in a threatening tone while they were in line to go into the ice cream parlor.

Recently I wrote something that dealt with the issue of leaving, but with a different focus. Now I want to discuss the situation of possessing enough courage to leave and to stay.

This person differs with me in terms of the true sentiments held by people when participating in the annual May Day parade.

Returning to a little popular slang (also known as “cubanisms”), when we say something is bad, we say “it’s black.” Similarly, to say that something is bad and going to get worse, we say “it’s gray with black stitches.”

It had been exactly 12 years since I last went inside that place. The memory of my mother’s last dying breathes had made it impossible for me to set foot in the Provincial Oncological Hospital since then.

For several years, with the development of tourism in the city, our musical patrimony has been heavily exploited. This has been done by professionals and amateurs, by corporations and centers created or designed for that aim or on their own initiative by people in search of hard currency.

With their arms held high, waving flags, they loudly and clearly shouted phrases reaffirming that if the party or the revolution calls, the people will respond. This was how the International Workers Day March took place in “the second city” of the island.