Erasmo Calzadilla’s Diary

Something convinced me to recount the conflict that caused me to leave the university classroom as a philosophy professor. I am raising some of the points here, but not all of them, only because I do not wish to affect the next steps of my struggle. Likewise, decency prevents me from speaking openly about these problems.

You have to be careful, and that means that you can’t just simply say whatever you want. We are writing from inside Cuba, not from an ideal neutral location, and that brings with it a certain responsibility and commitment to what is right and also a certain personal danger that cannot be avoided.

When the union meeting was finished (see my next-to-last diary entry), the Communist Party members from my workplace asked the workers to please not leave because they were going to give a political talk and wanted to invite everyone to participate.

Over the years, the Havana Book Fair has become one of the most eagerly awaited events of this city. I don’t think there is any other cultural event where more people participate. So many people attend each day that finding the book you’re looking for can become something of a quest if it is one of the more popular ones.

Something surprised me there: while the university classrooms are literally falling to pieces, these classrooms gleamed with new windows, nice paint and everything you need to make use of the latest audiovisual teaching techniques.

I recently became the friend of a dog, an old mangy Doberman that has been loose in my neighborhood for some time. He has become famous for his long static poses with a fixed look into the distance, and also for his big black balls.

One of the most difficult conflicts that plays out in the heart of the real socialist system is the divergence between individual freedom on the one hand and the power of the State and its institutions on the other.

The bureaucrat has become the perfect sacrificial lamb. Everyone openly complains about them because he/she is nobody concrete, and so nobody feels like they’re talking about themselves. Nobody is afraid of losing their prerogatives when they hear a rant against the bureaucrat.

Four or five of my friends and I have motivated each other to do something special for the neighborhood. We all agreed that the best way to assure respect for the public spaces is to have them look as much as possible like real parks and have people use them accordingly.

Here in Havana just a few months ago I met a couple of young Argentine women who were very inspired by Cuba. They were sociology students and looked to Cuban socialism with hope-filled eyes.