Erasmo Calzadilla’s Diary

With this diary entry I want to contribute something to the rebirth of the culture of psycho-travel, which has been eclipsed by puritanism, fear of the unknown and rationality transformed into blindness.

When my friends and I who think we have a certain level of political awareness get together we like to discuss and argue. What often comes up is the issue of when socialism got screwed up.

Returning to dealing with the “pretty” side of the city, I looked for information on the dump and I found out through daily newspapers that, with great fanfare, a state-of-the-art biogas plant had been set up there in 2008.

To witness a city dump is a soul-stirring experience, especially if dozens of other people plus hundreds of animals are swarming all over it. The 100th Street Dump has been the final stop for 80 percent of the solid waste produced in the capital over the past 35 years.

Luismi, who regularly sends in comments to Havana Times, has fallen captive at the feet of philosophy. He began amusing himself with the play of opposites and tongue twisting paradoxes, but later doubt began gnawing at him.

On Monday January 3, classes at the Mantilla High School restarted – but without me. Over each day of the year’s end holiday I spent time meditating about whether I should quit or not, and I finally decided that I should.

A friend told me this story about the experience of a young Cuban woman: a teacher who emigrated to Mexico City to escape the hunger and other miseries suffered during the most critical moments of the Special Period crisis in Cuba in the early ‘90s.

Back then I was still dreaming of becoming a man of science, dedicated to teaching and research. Wouldn’t that be great? For a few months I would concentrate my energy on that, but it didn’t take long for the illusion to vanish.

This blog is starting to resemble a personal diary now. Today, for example, I want to talk about my three masters, not those that I have, but the ones I’ve abandoned. This assumes someone’s interested in reading about what I do with my spare time…

OK, there are worse things in the world than discovering new wrinkles, no doubt; but it’s sad to see your youthfulness fading without having done anything important.