Rosa Martinez’s Diary

A few days ago I was walking around in downtown Guantanamo City. It was one of those days when you don’t want anybody to mess with you – for good or for bad; when you get bothered by the sun just as much as a rain.

A few days ago Rosa received a little economic help from a relative who had served on an African aid mission.After several years working in Gambia, Alberto, returned to Cuba with boxes full of appliances, all types of clothes and the equivalent of a few thousand dollars.

I have a Spanish friend who I’ve stayed in touch with for a long time. We don’t talk face to face very often because whenever he comes to Cuba he’s always in a hurry. Between his girlfriend, his two daughters and other relatives, he doesn’t have time for too much else.

My younger brother has worked as a technician for the phone company for two years. His salary is nearly three times as much as mine, and it includes incentive pay in national currency as well as in convertible pesos (hard currency).

Unfortunately, in our country it doesn’t matter much if you’re a professional or a technician. Someone who has studied or works harder doesn’t live any better than anyone else.

Tania, one of my daughters, is always telling me that she wants to live somewhere else. One day she talked to me about Brazil. “Brazil’s really pretty!” she said to me a while back. I then asked, “But how do you know if you’ve never been there?”

I’ve shared with the friends of Havana Times several stories about domestic violence, child abuse and other uses of brute force. I can assure you that I’m not writing about this topic because I like it, I’d much rather talk about nice things, but unfortunately so goes the world around me, becoming more and more violent.

Just a few days ago I thought about the sacrifices required of me as a mother. I thought about what I haven’t learned and done since I gave birth to my two wonderful girls. (6 photos)

Fernanda is one of my good friends from the university. She’s always saying that she admires me for struggling so hard, but she also criticizes me because she thinks I sacrifice too much.

When he reads this post, my good friend Paul is going to say — once again — that all we Cubans do is complain. He’s from the US. Likewise, my Italian friend Julian is going to repeat “if you spent any time in any other country, you’d have a better opinion of your island.”