Regina Cano’s Diary

My first impression of Rastafarians came from those semi-hard matted locks —so close to being natural— that grew from their heads. To this was added their music, which touched my African roots, so accustomed to percussive rhythms.

I was looking for someone to begin working on the repair of my “gingerbread home” and contacted several bricklayers trying to find a good one, someone I knew, and who was reliable as a person, in addition to someone who lived close by so it would be easy for them to get to the job.

Ever since the beginning of my adventure in demanding construction materials for the repair of the “gingerbread houses” in my neighborhood, I haven’t stopped asking myself a certain question.

Little by little, Havana has been turning into a transparent city. There are places where its bones show; the skeletons of buildings that hint at the future, the past or to the sides.

Dollars were given the names fulas, dolores, los verdes (the greens) or verdolaga (purslane) for their color, as well as moneda dura (hard currency), comparing them to the “soft” value of the Cuban peso.

Many of us islanders, who sometimes try to cast our fishing pole backwards, say “Cubans have bad memories” or that “if it wasn’t this way we’d all go crazy.” Decidedly, it’s part of the great artistry of the human brain.

Children’s television programs cause controversial reactions among adults, who are no longer the target audience but who want better productions or selections of these shows for the younger generation that now enjoys them.

Recently I heard a story that is becoming legendary in Cuba. It’s perhaps an example of what the government wants for its people, exemplified in a single person.

Each one of us has felt discrimination at some time in their life: for being fat, bald, homosexual, or very thin, for being left-handed or shy, elderly or a kid, for belonging to the female sex, or for being slow or very intelligent, for being Russian, Arab, Chinese or African. My goodness! – the list is long.

El Trencito, an initiative that has been active for nearly 15 years, has allowed two generations to be equipped with the tools necessary for asking themselves how they are behaving for the good of themselves and others, and what is their place in the present moment of this country where they wish to live and create their family.