Jorge Milanes’s Diary

Mateo repairs old “Aurika” model Russian washing machines. Impelled by the need to better his economic situation, he has earned his living this way since he first arrived in Havana. At first he worked clandestinely, but when the new economic policies went into effect, he obtained his self-employment license.

I was trying to purchase three servings of fried chicken to go, but I didn’t want any sides because I already had some at home. This proved more difficult than I would have thought.

“You’re a fool if you don’t buy a cellphone. How are we supposed to reach you in the case of an emergency or some need?” My brother and Osmel have cellphones. When they get together at home all they do is try to tempt and entice me.

They come here from Africa to study medicine. You can see them walking through the streets of Havana, though they pass by almost unnoticed since there’s not much difference between them and us. When they speak is when you realize their origin.

My nephew has had his life goals well-defined ever since he was around 20. He aimed to have a job that would bring him in enough money to help and support his family, practice Rastafarianism and belong to an environmental organization.

This morning my mother got up early, made some coffee and knocked on my door to tell me that it was already 7:00. I came out, we exchanged good mornings (in French, as usual), and then I splashed some water on my face, brushed my teeth and gave her a kiss.

With all my discomfort resulting from dengue fever, I decided to go to the doctor’s office. In the waiting room were several pregnant women who, while waiting to be seen, were engaged in an interesting conversation about the pros and cons of having just one child.

“Avocado!” That was what they used to call the young people some years back when they entered the military. Obviously this was due to the color of their uniforms. But I’m not going to talk about recruits.

Some people wondered: Where does “Shakira on the balcony” gets his money to keep changing his hair color and buying makeup, clothes and expensive perfume?

In a rush, I left the hall at the “Palace of Weddings” on Galiano Street. Yep, that same place where they used to rent the matrimonial attire. I left to go to the bathroom, but at that very moment the receptionist was locking the door.