When did Peru get so screwed up? So begins the great novel Conversación en la Catedral (Conversation in the Cathedral), by Mario Vargas Llosa.
It turns out that this question posed by Zavalita to a friend in a mid-1950s Lima café can be extended in time to present-day Cuba.
When will those born on this island stop seeing subsistence as an ephemeral period and above all an especially anomalous of life and begin conceiving of it as life itself?
When did we begin to accept as normal that our wages always have to be excessively low, requiring us to constantly concern ourselves with our immediate survival?
When did we decide to accept the decisions of politicians as being indisputable, despite their ineptitude?
When did we decide not to protest what is wrongfully done, since things couldn’t turn out worse than already are – and nothing will change otherwise?
When did we decide to pay to continue to be Cuban when we’re abroad?
When did we stop caring that our hospitals had deteriorated to the point that they are today?
When did we accept that the fact that wages of a police officers are higher than those of a doctor or a teacher?
When did it become normal for us to spend three days in a bus terminal waiting to travel?
When did we begin to conceive of emigrating as the sole way to solve our problems?
When did love and friendship become transformed (not by all) into means of obtaining material goods that are impossible to obtain through work and honesty?
When did we learn to “live” with family, friends and lovers who, in the best of cases, we only contact by e-mail or see them a single week each year?
When did we decide to leave all the solutions to the country’s problems up to biology?
When did Cuba get so screwed up?