In Cuba’s Provinces People Live Without Electricity
exhausted, sleepless, and in the dark
Many families cook in the hallways, using charcoal or wood, making them so smoky it’s hard to breathe.
HAVANA TIMES – The moments the electricity comes on in the Cuban provinces – be it daytime or the middle of the night – frenetic activity begins. This often occurs after 20-hour daily blackouts. The residents never know for sure when that moment may come, but they do know that when it does, they’ll have very little time to do everything that the extended blackouts haven’t allowed them to do.
“We only find out when it actually comes on, and then all we know is that we have two, three, or four hours ahead of us,” says Alicia, a resident of Sancti Spíritus, who can’t understand the electricity rationing ‘schedule’ imposed on the central province. “The only thing that’s certain is that you have to start running around, turn the washing machine on, or put a little rice in the electric cooker.”
On Monday, it happened at one in the morning: “At that hour, I started to prepare breakfast for the family, because my husband had to go to work in the morning and by that time there’d be no electricity.”
Residents of Camagüey report a similar situation. During the 36 hours that a Havana resident spent in the city visiting relatives, “There were maybe six hours of electricity, at most,” he told 14ymedio. “When the power comes back on, there’s a race against time with the electrical appliances: turn on the washing machine, charging cell phones, freeze some meat, turn on the water pumps to store water in the tanks.”
What surprised him most was how “they’ve adjusted their lives to get by without electricity.” Ines, from Sancti Spíritus, says the same thing: “People are so mentally exhausted that they just say: ‘the power’s out,’ and they know that more heat is coming without a fan, and that cooking will be difficult, but they’ve found their ways to survive. They no longer care whether there is electricity or not.”
There are professionals who keep working by candlelight or use a rechargeable lantern. A few days ago, that’s how a veterinarian from Ciega de Avila attended to his customers, with a makeshift headlamp tied to his head. Although tired, he and his assistant divided up the urgent cases that arrived at the clinic, while rolling his eyes at the ceiling and muttering: “Long live the Cuban Revolution.”
The survival mechanism is such that if you ask them how they’re doing, people respond, “everything is normal,” even in a city like Holguín, where, according to the latest Electric Company schedule, they only receive seven hours of electricity every other day. On alternate days, they “enjoy” three hours more. However, according to the 14ymedio correspondent in the area, “in some places, the power is going out earlier than scheduled and coming on later.”
Those who can, cook with firewood or charcoal; as a result, the streets of a country that boasts of its commitment to clean energy are filled with unbreathable air. “At eight o’clock at night, you can’t go out because you’ll suffocate,” confirms Alicia. “Everyone is cooking with firewood in their doorways or patios. There’s smoke everywhere.”
But even these primitive methods are not available to everyone. “Those who can afford it cook with firewood,” says a resident of Santiago de Cuba, “because a can of charcoal costs 300 pesos and a sack of it costs 1,200.”
In Santa Clara, the electricity is also cut off constantly. Roniel reports. “If it goes off in the morning, the workers leave home, and do whatever work they can in the city, then come home; but if it’s after three in the afternoon, everyone just goes home.” They know the power won’t be turned back on in the two hours left until 5 pm when their workday ends. Roniel comments resignedly: “You tell me what kind of productivity a country can have this way.”
The unreasonable schedules also mean that people can’t rest, something that’s already difficult for them to do in the summer heat, with swarming mosquitoes and no fans to keep them away. “You can’t sleep, because when the lights come on, you have to get up and get busy doing things,” Ines explains. Because of this, individuals wander the streets flustered, stressed, deranged by the lack of sleep. Many are also visibly drunk – alcohol and drugs are the only escape.
This Friday, Cuba’s Electric Company predicts a demand for 3,750 Megawatts of energy, while they only have 2,215 MW available, which means they face a deficit of 1,535 MW. That’s a “low” number in a week where the predominant energy deficit has never been less than 1,700 MW.
Ines says she’s been suffering from nerves for months, without having been able to go to the doctor. “There’s no time to get sick here,” the gaunt-faced woman states. “I’m waiting for the doctor to come back from vacation and give me some pills to feel better.”
This scene takes place before the attentive gazes of the neighbors. The lack of distractions, don’t even talk about the lack of an internet signal nearly all day long, means that everyone is intently engaged in each other’s conversations and discussions. Noting this, Ines lowers her voice. “I realize that I’m living in an impossible place. When I think about it, what I want to do is to die, to disappear, because I don’t know what kind of future there’ll be.”
First published in Spanish by 14ymedio and translated and posted in English by Havana Times.