Irina Pino’s Diary

I don’t like weddings. A pastel pink and white cake is like a bland marriage. Yesterday, I went to my friend’s son’s wedding and I realized how boring these ceremonies usually are; at least church weddings are elegant, and they have that solemn air that makes us feel the phrase “until death do us part” is real, although this sacred union is normally broken later and the couple send everything to hell.

A friend dragged me along to watch the new movie “Club de jazz”, by director Esteban Isausti, which made its debut in Havana’s movie theaters. Produced by the Cuban Institute of Cinematographic Art and Industry (ICAIC) and Sincover films, it has been making waves here with audiences and critics alike…

It was initially going to be a volume of stories written by both men and women, but then its publishers, Ignacio Rodriguez and Jorge Carpio, realized the potential these women had, all of whom shared a common denominator in their stories: erotica.

Everyone in Cuba knows that there aren’t enough degree programs for pre-university students. Young people are hopeful, but often their dreams never come true. Plans nipped in the bud and not only for those who are at the bottom of the ladder.

I was watching the famous US TV sitcom Sex and the City for the second time and I began to analyze my own thoughts on sex and the way I have accepted it in my life. In one episode, they were talking about a “sex buddy”, someone who you only need to have orgasms, as their company otherwise might not lead to anything else, as well as being boring.

I have visited the city of Regla, across the bay from Old Havana, on many different occasions. It’s a municipality with various places that hold its history; Lenin Hill figures among these: the first place where tribute was paid to Vladimir Ilich Lenin in Latin America. (10 photos)

A friend of mine who has been living in the United States for years now, laughs and tells me that I live in a static country, that nothing changes here, and that if it does, it only changes ever so slightly because there is a paralysis that prevails, setting us in stone, resigned.

Walking through Old Havana, losing yourself in its squares, museums, stores, cafes, popular fairs stirs new emotions, a hodgepodge of places which have a signature, a scent, like the breath that precedes a story.

With its eclectic architecture, the oldest part of the city invites visitors and locals to walk through it, fall in love with it. No eyes are distracted, no feet rest. Not addressing its legacy would be futile.

Sergio is a professor of Marxism-Leninism, who studied Philosophy in the former USSR, and a radio ham in his free time. He happened to get in touch with Russian cosmonaut Sergei, who was on a mission at space station Mir…, and this is where a friendship between a Cuban and Soviet was born.