Erasmo Calzadilla’s Diary

During the 80’s there was a “ghetto” in my neighborhood called “Los Rusos.” It was made up of several volunteer micro-brigade-built apartment buildings —all the same— which were inhabited by Soviet military advisors and their families.

A question has arisen in terms of what species worm to raise though. In Cuba there is one that emerges spontaneously, but in all the bibliographic materials we’ve gone over, the Californian Red Worm is suggested as being the most efficient, healthy, adaptive etc.

I also start from the point that that we can only perceive something from its counterpart, from its difference. Being identical to something, we cannot distinguish it by ourselves as observers, and consequently we can never “see” it.

Dichotomies are unsafe in socio-political thought. Certain thinkers, for example, have considered it appropriate to distinguish between the elite and the masses in society.

Up to this point he was recounting what everyone already knows, though writing from a government perspective. For Morales, corruption is like a woodworm infiltrating the State apparatus, eating away at its purity and candor.

I know very decent people who, with the best aims and intentions, work arduously at stopping their own minds and those of their friends. Some have already passed the limit of no return, or so it seems.

Like Lazaro, ordinary people battle against everything that is poorly done. However, in Cuba there is this insane system of double command: a popular one (which is accountable to the people) and a party-based one (which is accountable to the Party’s secretary-general).

For a change to occur, what is necessary is the awakening of mass consciousness. People must gain trust in themselves and want to change things, take the reins of their lives and send their patriarchs far away.

I was about 20 when I was called up for military service. Given my good health and a lot of naiveté, they had me serve my tour as a diver in the Navy.

Havana’s giant Copelia ice-cream parlor is like a Cuba in miniature. During the moments you spend eating ice cream there, you can find the same symptoms of deterioration in the services as those existing in any other corner of the country.