Yenisel Rodriguez’s Diary

One of the most exceptional gyms I’ve ever seen is at 203 Santa Emilia Street, in Havana’s Santo Suarez neighborhood.

Snack time had come to a school located on the periphery of Havana. With it, the astonished students observed how their teacher — from one moment to the next — transformed into an efficient vendor of sweets and candy.

There exist jobs that have remained outside the self-employment legalization process that the Cuban government is now implementing.

On the periphery of Havana exist places that are being reconstituted as neighborhoods of the wealthy. This is the case of Vibora Park.

On a giant screen there unexpectedly appeared the unforgettable Consuelito Vidal making an appeal for hope for the Cuban people, and in the foreground the word “faith” was highlighted in red.

Dressing in the latest fashion has ceased to be a problem for me, but I still remember how it tortured me as a teenager when I wasn’t able to at least sport a pair of shoes that were only a few months out of style.

The last Havana International Trade Fair took place last month, yet I still remember what happened to me the day of its closing, which was when most people have access to the week-long event.

On a trip to Holguin province, I visited places where people were able to quench their thirst by buying drinking water from independent vendors.

Cubans are ever-increasingly breaking the silence barrier and expressing their collective disquiet. I was a recent witness on a packed bus when a collective burst of laughter signaled the approval of a politically risqué account that an old man tossed out.

My uncle and a friend were waiting to be served coffee at the Café Habana. As the waiter was serving them a man in a plaid shirt suddenly picked up the two cups of coffee and claimed them for his own.