Diaries Archives - Page 12 of 641

My Son and His Girlfriends

It’s not easy to find a girlfriend on an island in crisis—especially now, with prices sky-high and transportation so difficult.

We were all there at our chosen spots for selling – the ones we grabbed, then said: “This is my spot and I want to work here.”

The Cuban government and its “just revolution” once promised a country without beggars as a symbol of social justice.

I’ve decided to try selling my books in some new places. To try my luck, for example, at the Loma de la Cruz (Hill of the Cross) in Holguin.

As time passes, I feel a growing anxiety that sometimes prevents me from organizing my thoughts and actions.

People, dreams, eras, go by while I remain stuck in the same place. Every farewell leaves a footprint, a vacuum impossible to fill.

At last, what we’d been waiting for over the past several days has finally arrived. “They’re already distributing it at other ration stores…

I haven’t seen my mother in two and a half years. My wife hasn’t seen hers in the same amount of time. My father died while I was away…

If she had a crystal ball to see the future, she would’ve stayed home. But magic doesn’t exist—at least not for poor Cubans.

The sinister weight orbiting this island, dispersing family ties, recycling despair, has particularly damaged the role of mothers…-