When we moved to Alamar I remember my mother telling me to behave myself and be careful how I acted because only the families of the “the vanguard workers” were allowed to live there. Those were the days when the children believed that “the future belonged to us.”
Read MoreTo my astonishment (almost fright), when I looked at her I knew that this is where I should be. I still could not balance out the pluses and minuses, nor did I want to have to. Life is unfurling before me, and I’m living it. There are no stones in the path, or oases, just the regularities of the landscape.
Read MoreAfter living these pages, how could I not try to walk that same path? Fighting for the advance of socialism and to feel around me the capacity for decision-making by this Cuban people to which I belong, struggling against bureaucracy and capitalism.
Read MoreThese animals ended up being part of our life, and each was almost like another neighbor. Nonetheless, the day of cruel sacrifice would arrive; men would again start sharpening their knives.
Read MoreNo, don’t get scared; I’m not going to ramble on about the collapse of the socialist camp, or the love-hate relationship that we Cubans have with the Russians. I’m speaking of an emblematic site of Cuban geography located just to the east of the capital.
Read MoreThe student that had originally invited us on the bus burst into a very impressive rendition of a popular Reggaeton song. At this point the girl sitting next to me began doing the “ola,” similar to the American “wave” but with some variation.
Read MoreIf I couldn’t identify more with this film, it was because of the obvious gaps in the script. The weaknesses in the storyline couldn’t be saved even by the good acting. I was unable to discern a leading character.
Read MoreIn the market we divided up the purchases. Ana Maria was responsible for yogurt and eggs. While she waited in line, a more than seventy-year-old man struck up a conversation with her.
Read MoreMy friend, Cuban essayist and poet Victor Fowler, has discerned a dichotomy in Cuba between “the body of pleasure” and “the body of the Homeland.” I believe that explains why the bodies of the “Bratz” are popular among Cuban girls.
Read MoreThere wasn’t a soul left on the shore at this hour – an unusual situation – due to a cold front which had enveloped the city. We collapsed as soon as we reached the sand, overcome by fatigue and sleepiness.
Read More