Rosa Martinez’s Diary

In Cuba, women are normally courageous. And, it’s not a matter of them being more courageous than other women in the world or anything like that; but the thing is, here they have no other choice but to be brave, because if they aren’t, they won’t be able to give their children a decent life.

A few days ago, my younger daughter (my loyal companion) and I wanted to visit some very dear friends of ours. Vain as she is, she decided to put on one of her best outfits; but she had quite a surprise…

A friend called me from Canada asking how things were here, especially in my Guantanamo. In love with Cuba, and its people, he is up-to-date on our beloved Island’s current situation and knows about the food shortages that have increased in recent months and the uncertainty that takes over many families’ lives.

I have written about my experiences as a mother on more than one occasion and I’ve received both criticism and praise in response. I’m not looking for either, I’m just another mother, another Cuban mother, with all of her ups and downs.

I can’t be the first, or the last, person a foreigner has asked in Cuba: how much money does a family of 4-5 people approximately need to live a decent life in this country.

Almost all of our HT readers must have heard about the infamous “Special Period”, which did as much damage to Cuban’s financial situation as it did to their souls.

Maria Magdalena is a woman over 60, and she lives in my neighborhood, a few blocks away from my house. Our friendship began in a long line at the butcher’s, when she was heatedly arguing with the butcher about the weight of the piece of chicken she was buying…

In Cuba, the beginning of the year is always tough: people building need to stop because construction materials are in shortage and, if they do appear, prices are through the roof (although this has been the case with almost everything recently).

Daniela and I have been great friends ever since we were children. She came to my school in fifth grade, in the middle of the academic year. I remember it as if it were yesterday: her extremely skinny body was like that of a starving child I would see on TV, but her blond, long hair and small, beautiful face reminded you of a fairytale princess.

Born poor… is an article I recently wrote, in which I mention some of my personal experiences in my many attempts to have a steady income coming into my home, in a Cuba where the economy continues to dwindle. One of HT’s readers left a comment which caused me pain. He literally said: “You were born to be a nail and you’ll never be a hammer.”