“The money I earn myself is enough to buy and do things that are impossible for a wage worker. I’m not rich, but I do feel privileged; I mentioned that it’s very difficult to get one of these licenses? The worse thing is the stress that we’re sometimes subjected to due to the contradictions of this type of work.”
When I recently heard the lyrics of Son de la loma (They’re from the Hills), that classic of Cuban son, I begin to think about migration – about how people leave their native homes in search of better opportunities.
Though over the last several years there have been major changes in terms of how homosexuals are treated in Cuba, still present are elements of the backward ancestral machismo that we have cultivated along the course of our history. This is visible in homes as well as in the street, as much among everyday people as in the offices of State institutions.
When I heard the word “computer” for the first time, I was only six. Of course I didn’t know what it meant so I asked my mother, who told me that she wasn’t really sure either. However, she had heard that it was a device that “answers anything that someone asks it.”
There are many types of voices, and the city is full of them. Thus, life doesn’t take place here like in some European cities, where people go down the street looking in a kind of lateral way. Here it’s just the opposite; looks bounce off each other, and very interesting visual encounters take place. Sensuality is in the air.
Cubans are always looking for reasons to celebrate. It doesn’t matter if it’s a birthday or a “non-birthday.” Common reasons for celebration include the victories of sports teams, the birthdays of saints, job promotions or getting together with friends you haven’t seen in a long time.
I grew up listening to Fidel’s frequent speeches. I remember them invading the two sole TV channels that existed, as well as all of the radio stations – except Radio Reloj [literally a ticking “clock radio” station]. The newspapers were responsible for announcing these engagements beforehand and echoing them afterwards.
I believe that what happened suited the majority, because it was a political strategy for the capital to enjoy this degree of happiness in such bitter times. I don’t mean to say that a trap was set to benefit one team to the detriment of the other, but what’s certain is that the squad that won was the team “they wanted” to win.
The defects of capitalist elections are repeated by heart in our country, but I believe that the time is coming to raise our voices to point out our own blemishes; that will be the point of departure for improvement.
I’m the son of a man who spent more than half of his life in jail, and not exactly for political or altruistic reasons. My mother ended up divorcing him. Then she married my stepfather, who to me is like a true father.
During that time, some Jehovah’s Witnesses used to come to the house to preach to my mother. Both she and my stepfather were learning from the lectures they received from the visitors. A while later they got baptized as Jehovah’s Witnesses.