A few days ago, I rifled through several local newspapers in search of a topic I could debate with my students.After going through a number of copies of Granma and Juventud Rebelde, I came upon a rather unusual story. Laughter and horror don’t usually go hand in hand, but that was exactly what the article in Juventud Rebelde, titled The Fugitive Monkeys, provoked in me.
October is coming to an end and, with it, people should start to leave behind their memories of Sandy, the devastating hurricane which affected thousands of people in Cuba’s easternmost region exactly one year ago, leaving the beautiful province of Santiago de Cuba with the most damages.
My aim with this post is not to again criticize my friends the journalists. On the contrary, today I will write about a clever program aired every week during the Cuban television’s evening news. Cuba dice (“Cuba Says”) is the closest thing to the critical and timely investigative journalism we dearly need that we’ve ever had.
Some months ago, I don’t recall when, exactly, I published a post that prompted many comments criticizing the title and focus of my piece. I Hate You upset a number of readers and other Havana Times bloggers, who wrote me to say that hatred is a negative emotion and that my article did not contribute to the reconciliation between the people of Cuba and the United States
A lot has been said about the Cuban press and its journalists on social networks. Those employed by Cuba’s media have criticized the press they themselves work for, where they feel they are denied a true, active role.
I don’t have any personal experience with what it means to have a disability, nor would I ever want to. I’ve been sick a few times and I’ve had surgery more than once, requiring the care and attention of my family members, but these were all situations that I knew wouldn’t last for more than a couple months, nothing like being incapacitated permanently.
With time, it seems that I’ve become something of a homebody, that is to say, I don’t ever want to leave the house these days – not even to go to the movies, which is my favorite kind of outing.
As a child, I was unruly, argumentative and domineering…but also something of an overly sensitive crybaby. My dad would always say to me my tears didn’t go well with my character, that I was too strong a girl to cry over so many trivial things.
I don’t know whether I actually believe in God or any supernatural forces. All I know is that, every night before I go to sleep, I pray to something you could call a divine power. The first thing I ask for is good health and long life for the people I love, especially my two daughters.
I’ve lost count of the number of my friends who have left Cuba and are now scattered across the world. The first of my friends to leave was Melina, a girl in my high school class back in the eleventh grade. She had told us she wouldn’t be in the school for long the moment she joined our class.