We Don't Want to Be Like Che* / Somos+
Somos+, José Presol, 7 October 2016 — On October 9 it will be forth-nine
years since a man with dirty, matted hair, a lice-ridden beard, boots
that were no more than shards of leather and a uniform in tatters
emerged from the forest to demonstrate, as he had at other times when he
was powerless, his cowardice.
In his delirium he believed he was the most important of world's
exploited peoples, a military genius without equal. He had ventured off
to "liberate" new lands but in the end had been put in his place.
Trembling, surrounded by dust and enemies, he was a vision of human
misery. Desperate, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted:
"Don't shoot! I am Che Guevara. I am worth more alive than dead!"
He surmised they preferred him alive and defeated rather than martyred.
Others thought differently. But let's step back in time a little.
He possessed several "qualities": an obsession for writing diaries, like
those of his motorcycle trip to Bolivia; a lifelong penchant for lying;
a devotion to death, his own and others; an inability to finish any
project; and cowardice.
Perhaps it was genetic. They say his mother was a progressive. A
supporter of the Spanish Republic, she was anticlerical and feminist —
though she came from a family of cattle barons whose ancestors arrived
in the eighteenth century — and had once wanted to become a nun. After
claiming her inheritance, she moved in with Ernesto Guevara Lynch. He
welcomed her with open arms, presumably out of love but also because of
her inheritance.
His father, Ernesto Guevara Lynch, was also an "aristocrat." His great
grandfather Patricio was the richest man in South America. Like his son
and namesake, he went to university but did not complete his studies,
though he called himself an engineer. While at university, he
distinguished himself by attacking another student, which led to his
expulsion. The victim was none other than the writer Jorge Luis Borges,
who brought more glory to Argentina than all the Guevaras combined.
After going bankrupt, he used his inheritance to buy a mate farm, whose
workers were little more than slaves. He went bankrupt again, and then
yet again in a real estate deal. He held his son responsible for the
child's own asthma. And to top it all off, in 1915 he shot the world's
most famous tango singer, Carlos Gardel, then blamed it on his brother
Roberto. He spent his final days in the company of his second wife,
traveling between Cuba and Argentina, living off his Cuban acquaintances.
Our Ernesto "forgot" things. Even his birth certificate was a lie. It
was altered to indicate he had been born prematurely in order avoid the
shame of having been conceived out of wedlock.
He started off in medicine but there is no evidence he completed his
studies. The University of Buenos Aires says it has no records of him
fulfilling the requirements necessary to receive a degree.**
He travelled to America on his motorcycle in hopes finding a job but was
arrested in Miami and deported. It seems he had forgotten about being a
doctor even before his time as a guerrilla fighter in the Sierras. After
he was captured in Bolivia, he wanted to treat a wounded man. When asked
if he was a doctor, he said no.
He toured Latin America and ended up in Guatemala, in the middle of a
coup d'état against President Jacobo Arbenz. Under the influence of his
wife, Hilda Gadea, he began thinking about becoming a Marxist. His
revolutionary biographies claim he organized resistance groups but there
is no evidence to support this. What is evident is the unreality of his
life at this time. In a letter to his Aunt Beatriz, he wrote, "I am
entertaining myself here with shootings, bombings, speeches and other
activities to relieve the monotony of everyday life."
When Hilda was arrested, his cowardice resurfaced. He left her behind in
prison and fled with his infant daughter to Mexico. Hilda later reunited
with him and introduced him to Edelberto Torres, director of a
publishing house: Editorial de Educación Pública. It was there that he
met Ñico López, who introduced him to Fidel Castro.
The Communists were looking for leaders who could give anti-imperialist
speeches while claiming not to be Marxists. Fidel Castro turned out to
be one of them. Fidel always liked to have a cohort by his side. At the
time, it was a Spaniard, Alberto Bayo. But Bayo could not accompany him
to Cuba, so he settled on Che. His simple rationale for this decision
was "He's a doctor."
We know all too well about his time in Cuba, starting with the execution
of Eutemio Guerra in La Cabaña. And the deaths and illnesses of his
comrades throughout the world. We are familiar with his initiatives when
he was in charge of the Cuban economy; we need only look around. We also
know about his lies about the "New Man." And his cowardice. Once he
realized he had become a nuisance, he preferred to leave, without
bothering to pay his respects.
His departure marked the beginning of his travels, taking him to Spain
and Czechoslovakia. He ultimately found what he was looking for in the
Congo. But he ended up fleeing there too, crossing Lake Tanganyika.
In a new diary he laid the blame for his defeat on those "blacks" who
did not understand his French, though clearly those "blacks" can
communicate perfectly well in French with the rest of the world.
Elsewhere he complained about the laziness and uselessness of blacks,
Indians and homosexuals.
Upon his capture, he was taken to a small school to be interrogated.
There he met a "Bolivian" captain named Ramos.
Guevara realized that something did not add up. He said to the captain,
"Your accent sounds familiar but it is not Bolivian. Your questions
aren't military questions; they're military intelligence questions. Who
are you?"
Ramos told him his real name: Felix Rodríguez. He said he was Cuban and
that he was part of the advance group that infiltrated the island to
provide logistical support during the Bay of Pigs invasion. He later
described how Che then lost what little composure he had, soiled himself
and turned whiter than a sheet of paper.
A coded message was transmitted to La Paz, "Papa is tired," indicating
that Che had been captured and was wounded. The reply was "500-600,"
which meant "positive identification" and "execution." A little later
headquarters received confirmation: "Regards to Papa."
The rest is history, though not the way Fidel tells it. (Yet another lie
in the life of Ernest Guevara.) We know all about it. What to do next?
Turn him into a martyr and put his image on T-shirts to be worn by all
the fools and bourgeoisie of the world.
Translator's notes:
*Elementary school students in Cuba, at morning assemblies, raise their
arms in unison and chant, "Pioneers for communism, we will be like Che."
**In a blog post, Enrique Ros — author of the Spanish language book,
Guevara; Myth and Reality — questions whether Che Guevara ever received
a medical degree. He points out that Che could not have fulfilled the
stringent academic requirements or the University of Buenos Aires School
of Medicine because, during what should have been his final period of
study, he was out of the country, "never to return." When Ros asked the
university for a copy of Che's transcripts, he was told they could not
be provided because they had been stolen.
Source: We Don't Want to Be Like Che* / Somos+ – Translating Cuba -
http://translatingcuba.com/we-dont-want-to-be-like-che-somos/
Monday, October 10, 2016
A Disappointing And Unfair Report
A Disappointing And Unfair Report / Cubanet, Luis Cino Alvarez
Cubanet, Luis Cino Alvarez, 30 September 2016 — The most recent report
by the Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ) on the state of journalism
in Cuba is, more than disappointing, worrisome. It is not that its
authors are uninformed about the Cuban reality. Rather, they have
manipulated the information at their disposal so as to emphasize—at the
expense of traditional independent journalism, whose presence is
concealed—that journalism which is done on the Island more or less
outside of state control. However, the sector to which they devote so
much attention is not really quite so outside of that domination as the
authors seem to wholeheartedly believe; either they are too naïve or too
optimistic about the situation of journalists who work under the
conditions of a dictatorship.
This report reinforces a tendency which could be seen emerging in recent
months: that of obscuring and making obsolete the journalism that is
most critical of the regime so as to present the pro-government bloggers
and journalists who work in foreign outlets or alternative media of
recent vintage—On Cuba, Periodismo de Barrio, El Estornudo, El
Toque, Progreso Semanal, La Joven Cuba—as the new protagonists of a free
journalism on the Island.
And I was calling this worrisome because this type of analyses, arising
from who knows where, which try to make the case that Cuba is changing
by giant steps in rhythm with the Raulist reforms, turn into a type of
"trending topics," become viral, and are later unstoppable.
The report obviates the fact that the independent journalism that has
obtained in Cuba since the first half of the 1990s, and which ever since
then has had to endure repression pure and simple, and which brought to
light the prohibitions, and enabled the very existence of those
alternative media whose collaborators are set on clarifying that they
are not dissidents, complaining about the scoldings and warnings they
receive, as if they were wayward sheep, from government bigwigs.
Regarding journalism which is critical of the regime, the report makes
sole* reference to 14ymedio, but praises its middle-of-the-road tone.
Lacking this tone, Primavera Digital, for example, is ignored, even
though it continues to come out every Thursday on the internet despite
the fact that it has not received a single cent of financing for more
than two years. By the way, when 14ymedio started, Primavera Digital had
already been around for more than six years—a fact that does not prevent
the repeated assertion, mantra-like, that 14ymedio "was the first
independent news outlet in Cuba."
It is laudable that these young communicators from the alternative media
have appeared, speaking of a Cuba more like the real one than what is
portrayed by the official media. There are excellent ones, such as
Elaine Díaz, or the team at El Estornudo with its literary
journalism—and even Harold Cárdenas, why not? Despite his pretensions of
"saving the Revolution" and making himself out to be more socialist than
Marx and Engels combined. But when speaking of quality in the field of
the independents, I have to say that it is the dissidents who have for
many years now been incomparably plying their trade—journalists such as
Miriam Celaya, Tania Díaz Castro, Iván García, Ernesto Pérez Chang, Juan
González Febles, Víctor Manuel Domínguez, Jorge Olivera, among others.
More than unfair, the angle the CPJ report takes in characterizing TV
and Radio Martí as "mostly irrelevant" is insulting. It would be
interesting to know, keeping in mind the powerful interference of their
signal and the blockage of their web site in Cuba, how TV and Radio
Martí might increase their audience and have greater relevance compared
to, let us say, Granma or Radio Rebelde. However, even this would not be
enough for the CPJ, which lumps the official press with Radio and TV
Martí insofar as they both "have become echo chambers for ideologues at
both extremes of the political spectrum. As they are currently
structured, neither is capable of providing the type of transformative
journalism that could help to achieve the changes longed-for by the
majority of Cubans."
Bearing in mind that this section of the report was written by Ernesto
Londoño, a journalist who when it comes to Cuba sees only what he wants
to see and make seen (remember those editorials in The New York Times
that heralded 17D?*), I believe I understand the changes to which he is
referring. The problem is that these are not exactly the changes that
are desired by the majority of Cubans, who desperately aspire to others
of much greater significance.
Neither is it just for the report to not acknowledge the relevance of
such outlets as CubaNet—not that it is blocked in Cuba occasionally, but
rather that it was occasionally not blocked for almost a year. Since a
few weeks ago it has begun being blocked again (as has Diario de Cuba),
several of its journalists have been arrested, and the political police
have confiscated their equipment. It would be interesting to know which
formula CubaNet could employ to be in Havana the same way that On Cuba
is. I say this because both outlets are based in the United States and
the journalists who contribute to them are Cubans who live on the Island.
The CPJ's concern for Cuban journalists is all well and good, but it
should be for all, equally—the official and semi-official ones (it is
often hard to tell them apart), and those who are lately turning the
screws even more—but also for the independents, those truly critical
ones, those who do not remain on the surface or who try to hide the fact
that they definitively have gotten out from the "innards" of the
Revolution: those who, in the CPJ's report, have been diminished, or
simply ignored.
About the Author
Luis Cino Álvarez (Havana, 1956) is a journalist in Cuba currently
visiting the United States. Cino has worked as a professor of English,
in construction, and in agriculture. He entered the field of independent
journalism in 1998. Between 2002 and Spring 2003, Cino was a member of
the reporting team at De Cuba magazine. He is assistant director of the
online magazine, Primavera Digital [Digital Spring], and is a regular
contributor to CubaNet since 2003. A resident of Arroyo Naranjo, Cino
dreams of being able to make a living from writing fiction. He is
passionate about good books, the sea, jazz and blues.
See also: Committee to Protect Journalists Invites Journalists inCuba to
"Cross the Red Lines"
**Translator's note: As Americans say "9-11" instead of September 11,
2001, Cubans say "17D" instead of 17 December 2014, the day Barack Obama
and Raul Castro jointly announced the restoration of relations between
the United States and Cuba.
Translated by: Alicia Barraqué Ellison
Source: A Disappointing And Unfair Report / Cubanet, Luis Cino Alvarez –
Translating Cuba -
http://translatingcuba.com/a-disappointing-and-unfair-report-cubanet-luis-cino-alvarez/
Cubanet, Luis Cino Alvarez, 30 September 2016 — The most recent report
by the Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ) on the state of journalism
in Cuba is, more than disappointing, worrisome. It is not that its
authors are uninformed about the Cuban reality. Rather, they have
manipulated the information at their disposal so as to emphasize—at the
expense of traditional independent journalism, whose presence is
concealed—that journalism which is done on the Island more or less
outside of state control. However, the sector to which they devote so
much attention is not really quite so outside of that domination as the
authors seem to wholeheartedly believe; either they are too naïve or too
optimistic about the situation of journalists who work under the
conditions of a dictatorship.
This report reinforces a tendency which could be seen emerging in recent
months: that of obscuring and making obsolete the journalism that is
most critical of the regime so as to present the pro-government bloggers
and journalists who work in foreign outlets or alternative media of
recent vintage—On Cuba, Periodismo de Barrio, El Estornudo, El
Toque, Progreso Semanal, La Joven Cuba—as the new protagonists of a free
journalism on the Island.
And I was calling this worrisome because this type of analyses, arising
from who knows where, which try to make the case that Cuba is changing
by giant steps in rhythm with the Raulist reforms, turn into a type of
"trending topics," become viral, and are later unstoppable.
The report obviates the fact that the independent journalism that has
obtained in Cuba since the first half of the 1990s, and which ever since
then has had to endure repression pure and simple, and which brought to
light the prohibitions, and enabled the very existence of those
alternative media whose collaborators are set on clarifying that they
are not dissidents, complaining about the scoldings and warnings they
receive, as if they were wayward sheep, from government bigwigs.
Regarding journalism which is critical of the regime, the report makes
sole* reference to 14ymedio, but praises its middle-of-the-road tone.
Lacking this tone, Primavera Digital, for example, is ignored, even
though it continues to come out every Thursday on the internet despite
the fact that it has not received a single cent of financing for more
than two years. By the way, when 14ymedio started, Primavera Digital had
already been around for more than six years—a fact that does not prevent
the repeated assertion, mantra-like, that 14ymedio "was the first
independent news outlet in Cuba."
It is laudable that these young communicators from the alternative media
have appeared, speaking of a Cuba more like the real one than what is
portrayed by the official media. There are excellent ones, such as
Elaine Díaz, or the team at El Estornudo with its literary
journalism—and even Harold Cárdenas, why not? Despite his pretensions of
"saving the Revolution" and making himself out to be more socialist than
Marx and Engels combined. But when speaking of quality in the field of
the independents, I have to say that it is the dissidents who have for
many years now been incomparably plying their trade—journalists such as
Miriam Celaya, Tania Díaz Castro, Iván García, Ernesto Pérez Chang, Juan
González Febles, Víctor Manuel Domínguez, Jorge Olivera, among others.
More than unfair, the angle the CPJ report takes in characterizing TV
and Radio Martí as "mostly irrelevant" is insulting. It would be
interesting to know, keeping in mind the powerful interference of their
signal and the blockage of their web site in Cuba, how TV and Radio
Martí might increase their audience and have greater relevance compared
to, let us say, Granma or Radio Rebelde. However, even this would not be
enough for the CPJ, which lumps the official press with Radio and TV
Martí insofar as they both "have become echo chambers for ideologues at
both extremes of the political spectrum. As they are currently
structured, neither is capable of providing the type of transformative
journalism that could help to achieve the changes longed-for by the
majority of Cubans."
Bearing in mind that this section of the report was written by Ernesto
Londoño, a journalist who when it comes to Cuba sees only what he wants
to see and make seen (remember those editorials in The New York Times
that heralded 17D?*), I believe I understand the changes to which he is
referring. The problem is that these are not exactly the changes that
are desired by the majority of Cubans, who desperately aspire to others
of much greater significance.
Neither is it just for the report to not acknowledge the relevance of
such outlets as CubaNet—not that it is blocked in Cuba occasionally, but
rather that it was occasionally not blocked for almost a year. Since a
few weeks ago it has begun being blocked again (as has Diario de Cuba),
several of its journalists have been arrested, and the political police
have confiscated their equipment. It would be interesting to know which
formula CubaNet could employ to be in Havana the same way that On Cuba
is. I say this because both outlets are based in the United States and
the journalists who contribute to them are Cubans who live on the Island.
The CPJ's concern for Cuban journalists is all well and good, but it
should be for all, equally—the official and semi-official ones (it is
often hard to tell them apart), and those who are lately turning the
screws even more—but also for the independents, those truly critical
ones, those who do not remain on the surface or who try to hide the fact
that they definitively have gotten out from the "innards" of the
Revolution: those who, in the CPJ's report, have been diminished, or
simply ignored.
About the Author
Luis Cino Álvarez (Havana, 1956) is a journalist in Cuba currently
visiting the United States. Cino has worked as a professor of English,
in construction, and in agriculture. He entered the field of independent
journalism in 1998. Between 2002 and Spring 2003, Cino was a member of
the reporting team at De Cuba magazine. He is assistant director of the
online magazine, Primavera Digital [Digital Spring], and is a regular
contributor to CubaNet since 2003. A resident of Arroyo Naranjo, Cino
dreams of being able to make a living from writing fiction. He is
passionate about good books, the sea, jazz and blues.
See also: Committee to Protect Journalists Invites Journalists inCuba to
"Cross the Red Lines"
**Translator's note: As Americans say "9-11" instead of September 11,
2001, Cubans say "17D" instead of 17 December 2014, the day Barack Obama
and Raul Castro jointly announced the restoration of relations between
the United States and Cuba.
Translated by: Alicia Barraqué Ellison
Source: A Disappointing And Unfair Report / Cubanet, Luis Cino Alvarez –
Translating Cuba -
http://translatingcuba.com/a-disappointing-and-unfair-report-cubanet-luis-cino-alvarez/
Book by Che’s Grandson Dissects Bowels of Cuban Reality
Book by Che's Grandson Dissects Bowels of Cuban Reality / 14ymedio,
Reinaldo Escobar
14ymedio, Reinaldo Escobar, 9 October 2016 — "The whole country is a
broken record" says Canek Sanchez Guevara, grandson of Ernesto 'Che'
Guevara, on one of the pages of his book 33 Revolutions published
posthumously in France this year and recently published under the
imprint of Alfaguara. The volume takes a hard look at the Cuban
Revolution and the everyday life of the island, where the writer
immersed himself after spending his early childhood in Italy, Spain and
Mexico.
At the age of 12, Ernesto Guevara's grandson, son of his eldest daughter
Hilda, arrived in his native country and came face to face with a very
different reality from what he had imagined in the cradle of an iconic
leftist family." Every day is a repetition of the previous one, every
week, month, year; and in the endless repetition the sound is degraded
until all that is left is a vague and irreconcilable remembrance of the
original audio," he wrote.
Canek couldn't imagine, on arriving on the island, that he was coming to
a reality on the verge of abrupt change. In the far off Soviet Union,
Mikhail Gorbachev was consolidating Perestroika, while Fidel Castro was
arguing for the defensive move of a "rectification of errors and
negative tendencies" in which agricultural markets were demonized, and
calling to not "build socialism with capitalist measures."
The guerrilla's grandson found a country in which "nothing works but it
doesn't matter," as he described in the pages in 33 Revolutions. This
clash between the propaganda and the life on the streets fills the book
that he worked on for more than a decade and that only saw the light of
day after his premature death, at age 40 due to complications from heart
surgery.
A friend of designers, admirer of some songwriters who didn't even
appear in state venues, and immersed deeply in Havana's nightlife, Canek
was a rare specimen of a "daddy's boy." If in the clans of the
comandantes, the generals and the high officials, everyone focused on
getting the greatest perks, the scion of Che's daughter preferred the
shadows, making every effort to pass unnoticed.
He was born in Havana in 1974 and was the fruit of the union of Hilda
Guevara Gadea and the Mexican Alberto Sánchez Hernández, a young man
from Monterrey who was active in the Armed Communists League and who
came to the island after hijacking a plane. Many friends would later
joke with Canek about the fact of rebellion being written in his genes…
but Cuba was no longer territory for rebels.
Instead of joining the official choir, the grandson of Che honored his
name, which in the Mayan language means "Black Snake," and slipped
silently and without deceit through a Cuba where every door opened at
the mere mention of his grandfather's name. To the powerful, of course,
they didn't like this young man's fascination with "the underworld," and
with ordinary people without military rank nor biographical feats.
The stories told in 33 Revolutions distill much of what the author
confessed in an earlier autobiographical text, dated 2006: "Living in
Cuba: I loved and hated as only you can love and hate something
valuable, something that is a fundamental part of you." He would live
through the most difficult years of the Special Period on the island,
witness the 1994 Rafter Crisis and in 1996 decided to move to Oaxaca,
Mexico, where he performed most of his work as a writer, designer and
cultural promoter.
Years later, he explained that his departure from Cuba was largely due
to "the criminalization of difference," which took place in his native
country, especially the "persecution of homosexuals, hippies,
freethinkers, trade unionists and poets," and the enthronement of the
"socialist bourgeoisie (…) fake proletariats," to which he did not want
to belong nor contribute.
This October, the news of the appearance of his book from a Spanish
publisher promises to tarnish the hypocrites of the official tributes,
who honor his grandfather in Cuba on the occasion of his death on
October 9, 1967. The headlines of the official press repeat over and
over, ameliorated by the news of hurricane Matthew, the old formulas of
"heroic guerrilla" and champion of freedom, which they awarded Guevara
de la Serna, "el Che."
However, it's enough to walk the streets of Old Havana to see Canek's
Grandpa turned into a tourist fetish, his face stamped on every shirt,
ashtray or fake piece of primitive art — memories and dreams for
sale. In each bar filled with Americans is heard the chorus, "here it is
clear, the treasured transparency of your beloved presence Comandante
Che Guevara, remains," which brings applause and tips, many tips.
It is the musical band of the failure of Utopia. Tired chords repeated
over and over again and that the grandson of the controversial guerrilla
collects aptly in his book, where the life in Cuba of Fidel Castro was
never more than that: "A scratched and dirty record. Millions of
scratched and dirty records. His whole life life is a scratched and
dirty record. Repetition after repetition, the record scratched by time
and filth."
Site manager's note: 33 Revolutions is available in English for
pre-order; it will be released in 2 days on 11 October 2016.
Source: Book by Che's Grandson Dissects Bowels of Cuban Reality /
14ymedio, Reinaldo Escobar – Translating Cuba -
http://translatingcuba.com/book-by-ches-grandson-dissects-bowels-of-cuban-reality-14ymedio-reinaldo-escobar/
Reinaldo Escobar
14ymedio, Reinaldo Escobar, 9 October 2016 — "The whole country is a
broken record" says Canek Sanchez Guevara, grandson of Ernesto 'Che'
Guevara, on one of the pages of his book 33 Revolutions published
posthumously in France this year and recently published under the
imprint of Alfaguara. The volume takes a hard look at the Cuban
Revolution and the everyday life of the island, where the writer
immersed himself after spending his early childhood in Italy, Spain and
Mexico.
At the age of 12, Ernesto Guevara's grandson, son of his eldest daughter
Hilda, arrived in his native country and came face to face with a very
different reality from what he had imagined in the cradle of an iconic
leftist family." Every day is a repetition of the previous one, every
week, month, year; and in the endless repetition the sound is degraded
until all that is left is a vague and irreconcilable remembrance of the
original audio," he wrote.
Canek couldn't imagine, on arriving on the island, that he was coming to
a reality on the verge of abrupt change. In the far off Soviet Union,
Mikhail Gorbachev was consolidating Perestroika, while Fidel Castro was
arguing for the defensive move of a "rectification of errors and
negative tendencies" in which agricultural markets were demonized, and
calling to not "build socialism with capitalist measures."
The guerrilla's grandson found a country in which "nothing works but it
doesn't matter," as he described in the pages in 33 Revolutions. This
clash between the propaganda and the life on the streets fills the book
that he worked on for more than a decade and that only saw the light of
day after his premature death, at age 40 due to complications from heart
surgery.
A friend of designers, admirer of some songwriters who didn't even
appear in state venues, and immersed deeply in Havana's nightlife, Canek
was a rare specimen of a "daddy's boy." If in the clans of the
comandantes, the generals and the high officials, everyone focused on
getting the greatest perks, the scion of Che's daughter preferred the
shadows, making every effort to pass unnoticed.
He was born in Havana in 1974 and was the fruit of the union of Hilda
Guevara Gadea and the Mexican Alberto Sánchez Hernández, a young man
from Monterrey who was active in the Armed Communists League and who
came to the island after hijacking a plane. Many friends would later
joke with Canek about the fact of rebellion being written in his genes…
but Cuba was no longer territory for rebels.
Instead of joining the official choir, the grandson of Che honored his
name, which in the Mayan language means "Black Snake," and slipped
silently and without deceit through a Cuba where every door opened at
the mere mention of his grandfather's name. To the powerful, of course,
they didn't like this young man's fascination with "the underworld," and
with ordinary people without military rank nor biographical feats.
The stories told in 33 Revolutions distill much of what the author
confessed in an earlier autobiographical text, dated 2006: "Living in
Cuba: I loved and hated as only you can love and hate something
valuable, something that is a fundamental part of you." He would live
through the most difficult years of the Special Period on the island,
witness the 1994 Rafter Crisis and in 1996 decided to move to Oaxaca,
Mexico, where he performed most of his work as a writer, designer and
cultural promoter.
Years later, he explained that his departure from Cuba was largely due
to "the criminalization of difference," which took place in his native
country, especially the "persecution of homosexuals, hippies,
freethinkers, trade unionists and poets," and the enthronement of the
"socialist bourgeoisie (…) fake proletariats," to which he did not want
to belong nor contribute.
This October, the news of the appearance of his book from a Spanish
publisher promises to tarnish the hypocrites of the official tributes,
who honor his grandfather in Cuba on the occasion of his death on
October 9, 1967. The headlines of the official press repeat over and
over, ameliorated by the news of hurricane Matthew, the old formulas of
"heroic guerrilla" and champion of freedom, which they awarded Guevara
de la Serna, "el Che."
However, it's enough to walk the streets of Old Havana to see Canek's
Grandpa turned into a tourist fetish, his face stamped on every shirt,
ashtray or fake piece of primitive art — memories and dreams for
sale. In each bar filled with Americans is heard the chorus, "here it is
clear, the treasured transparency of your beloved presence Comandante
Che Guevara, remains," which brings applause and tips, many tips.
It is the musical band of the failure of Utopia. Tired chords repeated
over and over again and that the grandson of the controversial guerrilla
collects aptly in his book, where the life in Cuba of Fidel Castro was
never more than that: "A scratched and dirty record. Millions of
scratched and dirty records. His whole life life is a scratched and
dirty record. Repetition after repetition, the record scratched by time
and filth."
Site manager's note: 33 Revolutions is available in English for
pre-order; it will be released in 2 days on 11 October 2016.
Source: Book by Che's Grandson Dissects Bowels of Cuban Reality /
14ymedio, Reinaldo Escobar – Translating Cuba -
http://translatingcuba.com/book-by-ches-grandson-dissects-bowels-of-cuban-reality-14ymedio-reinaldo-escobar/
As Cuban migration surges, a woman in Pittsburgh offers shelter to her compatriots
As Cuban migration surges, a woman in Pittsburgh offers shelter to her
compatriots
Erika Beras, PRI's The World
© Erika Beras
In the last few years, thousands of Cubans have left the island for
South American countries. From there, they make their way north,
trekking thousands of miles, hoping to get to the United States.
Last year, 29,000 Cubans crossed the border from Mexico into Texas —
quadrupling the total from a decade ago. Now the numbers are even higher.
Heidy Vera, a young Cuban woman, made that journey in 2015. She then
headed to Miami, where Cubans have settled for generations.
When she arrived there, she thought she was done traveling. She had been
on the road for a long time, from Ecuador all the way on up.
"I saw things you don't see in Cuba. Gangs, you may be killed, people
may shoot guns. But I was ready for anything because I knew I wasn't in
my country any more," she remembers.
She crossed borders. Walked many miles. Took planes, buses, trains.
Several times she was detained. Once hospitalized. She slept on streets
and in laundromats. Along the way, she met other Cubans making the
journey. They stuck together.
She was robbed, forced to pay bribes and all the while fiercely guarded
her Cuban citizenship paperwork — which helped promise her residency in
the US.
"It was a difficult trip for us. Because other Latinos, in Costa Rica,
Nicaragua, Honduras, they'd say, if I'm also Latino why don't they give
us the opportunity to come to this country. But you yes. We were afraid
of the other Latinos — in fear that they'd assault us, they'd steal our
passports, our papers because with those papers you can come in," she said.
For decades, Cubans have been allowed to stay in the US under the Cuban
Adjustment Act. But now, as the relationship between the two countries
shifts, Cubans wanting to leave wonder if that policy will end. So many
Cubans are migrating that earlier this year, US Sen. Marco Rubio,
himself the son of Cuban immigrants, spoke about it on the Senate floor.
"We have a significant migratory crisis that's building," he said.
Back in Pinar del Rio on the western side of Cuba, Vera's mother makes
the equivalent of $8 a month at a pig butchery. Vera had studied to do
administrative work and wanted more from life. By the time she arrived
in Miami, the 24-year-old was broke and forced to stay in shelters with
some of the people she'd met on her trip. But she got lucky — a local
activist posted on Facebook that newly arrived Cubans needed help.
Gregoria Fernandez, a 50-year-old woman in Pittsburgh, saw the post and
commented on it.
"I said, 'look my house isn't big but I live in Pittsburgh. If they're
willing to come here, here there's work, there's possibility for
everyone,'" she said.
Fernandez and her partner live in a run-down two-bedroom apartment. She
remembered how hard it was when she herself came from Cuba.
"First of all it's the language. You know that without language, it's
like throwing yourself in a river and not knowing how to swim," she said.
She left Cuba during the mid-1990s. At that time Cubans were going by
raft to US soil at Guantanamo and from there onto South Florida. She
settled there and then, during the financial crisis, she moved to
Pittsburgh, looking for work.
Her life was pretty quiet until the Cubans showed up.
They slept all over the house. It was pretty makeshift but Vera says she
felt so at home.
"When we got here, she had everything. It's like we say, 'You're at your
family's house now.' We didn't have to do anything," she says. "We got
food, clothes."
For Fernandez, it wasn't totally altruistic — she was alone all the time
because she and her partner work opposite hours — he at a Chinese
restaurant, she stocking shelves at Macy's.
"I was also looking for company. So I said, why don't I have those
people come this way, that way they can keep me company. And I can keep
them company. Because I was very lonely," she said.
While the group of nine Cubans was there, it was fun for her — hearing
stories of what life is like back home, helping them figure out the US
for the first time, cooking big meals, which she hadn't had a chance to
do because her own kids were already grown.
"I helped them, to bring them to interviews, I took a bunch of them to
immigration, to do their paperwork to be allowed to work. I was an
interpreter as much as I could be, but I also don't speak amazing
English," she said.
But then slowly, they started leaving. All these months later, the
Christmas stockings are still hanging on the living room wall, the
glitter from their names slowly crumbling onto the floor.
She shows off a rack of coats left behind at the top of the stairs. Some
moved to Houston, others to Jacksonville. A couple went to Phoenix. One
man decided to return to Cuba.
Now it's just Vera left, who recently applied for her green card. She
sends money home to Cuba she earns at an Italian restaurant.
Lately Fernandez hasn't seen any posts looking for help. And because her
landlord said he'd raise the rent if more people lived there, she can't
host too many more. Still, if they showed up, she says she'll help them out.
"Until now, I've never had the opportunity to help people. I always
wondered, how does one do this, but I didn't have an idea," she said.
In the meantime though, Fernandez likes having Vera around. Vera calls
her "Tia" — aunt — and plans on staying there indefinitely. They keep
each other company and connect each other to a homeland they both miss.
Source: As Cuban migration surges, a woman in Pittsburgh offers shelter
to her compatriots -
http://www.msn.com/en-us/news/us/as-cuban-migration-surges-a-woman-in-pittsburgh-offers-shelter-to-her-compatriots/ar-BBwO31l
compatriots
Erika Beras, PRI's The World
© Erika Beras
In the last few years, thousands of Cubans have left the island for
South American countries. From there, they make their way north,
trekking thousands of miles, hoping to get to the United States.
Last year, 29,000 Cubans crossed the border from Mexico into Texas —
quadrupling the total from a decade ago. Now the numbers are even higher.
Heidy Vera, a young Cuban woman, made that journey in 2015. She then
headed to Miami, where Cubans have settled for generations.
When she arrived there, she thought she was done traveling. She had been
on the road for a long time, from Ecuador all the way on up.
"I saw things you don't see in Cuba. Gangs, you may be killed, people
may shoot guns. But I was ready for anything because I knew I wasn't in
my country any more," she remembers.
She crossed borders. Walked many miles. Took planes, buses, trains.
Several times she was detained. Once hospitalized. She slept on streets
and in laundromats. Along the way, she met other Cubans making the
journey. They stuck together.
She was robbed, forced to pay bribes and all the while fiercely guarded
her Cuban citizenship paperwork — which helped promise her residency in
the US.
"It was a difficult trip for us. Because other Latinos, in Costa Rica,
Nicaragua, Honduras, they'd say, if I'm also Latino why don't they give
us the opportunity to come to this country. But you yes. We were afraid
of the other Latinos — in fear that they'd assault us, they'd steal our
passports, our papers because with those papers you can come in," she said.
For decades, Cubans have been allowed to stay in the US under the Cuban
Adjustment Act. But now, as the relationship between the two countries
shifts, Cubans wanting to leave wonder if that policy will end. So many
Cubans are migrating that earlier this year, US Sen. Marco Rubio,
himself the son of Cuban immigrants, spoke about it on the Senate floor.
"We have a significant migratory crisis that's building," he said.
Back in Pinar del Rio on the western side of Cuba, Vera's mother makes
the equivalent of $8 a month at a pig butchery. Vera had studied to do
administrative work and wanted more from life. By the time she arrived
in Miami, the 24-year-old was broke and forced to stay in shelters with
some of the people she'd met on her trip. But she got lucky — a local
activist posted on Facebook that newly arrived Cubans needed help.
Gregoria Fernandez, a 50-year-old woman in Pittsburgh, saw the post and
commented on it.
"I said, 'look my house isn't big but I live in Pittsburgh. If they're
willing to come here, here there's work, there's possibility for
everyone,'" she said.
Fernandez and her partner live in a run-down two-bedroom apartment. She
remembered how hard it was when she herself came from Cuba.
"First of all it's the language. You know that without language, it's
like throwing yourself in a river and not knowing how to swim," she said.
She left Cuba during the mid-1990s. At that time Cubans were going by
raft to US soil at Guantanamo and from there onto South Florida. She
settled there and then, during the financial crisis, she moved to
Pittsburgh, looking for work.
Her life was pretty quiet until the Cubans showed up.
They slept all over the house. It was pretty makeshift but Vera says she
felt so at home.
"When we got here, she had everything. It's like we say, 'You're at your
family's house now.' We didn't have to do anything," she says. "We got
food, clothes."
For Fernandez, it wasn't totally altruistic — she was alone all the time
because she and her partner work opposite hours — he at a Chinese
restaurant, she stocking shelves at Macy's.
"I was also looking for company. So I said, why don't I have those
people come this way, that way they can keep me company. And I can keep
them company. Because I was very lonely," she said.
While the group of nine Cubans was there, it was fun for her — hearing
stories of what life is like back home, helping them figure out the US
for the first time, cooking big meals, which she hadn't had a chance to
do because her own kids were already grown.
"I helped them, to bring them to interviews, I took a bunch of them to
immigration, to do their paperwork to be allowed to work. I was an
interpreter as much as I could be, but I also don't speak amazing
English," she said.
But then slowly, they started leaving. All these months later, the
Christmas stockings are still hanging on the living room wall, the
glitter from their names slowly crumbling onto the floor.
She shows off a rack of coats left behind at the top of the stairs. Some
moved to Houston, others to Jacksonville. A couple went to Phoenix. One
man decided to return to Cuba.
Now it's just Vera left, who recently applied for her green card. She
sends money home to Cuba she earns at an Italian restaurant.
Lately Fernandez hasn't seen any posts looking for help. And because her
landlord said he'd raise the rent if more people lived there, she can't
host too many more. Still, if they showed up, she says she'll help them out.
"Until now, I've never had the opportunity to help people. I always
wondered, how does one do this, but I didn't have an idea," she said.
In the meantime though, Fernandez likes having Vera around. Vera calls
her "Tia" — aunt — and plans on staying there indefinitely. They keep
each other company and connect each other to a homeland they both miss.
Source: As Cuban migration surges, a woman in Pittsburgh offers shelter
to her compatriots -
http://www.msn.com/en-us/news/us/as-cuban-migration-surges-a-woman-in-pittsburgh-offers-shelter-to-her-compatriots/ar-BBwO31l
On the trail of Indian labourers in Cuba
On the trail of Indian labourers in Cuba
The largest ever group of foreign workers is earning more than their
Cuban counterparts. Is this fuelling resentment?
byEd Augustin @Ed_Augustin
Ed Augustin is a filmmaker and journalist. He's currently shooting a
feature film about Guantanamo Bay.
Havana, Cuba - Sparks fly and drills roar, but the restoration of the
Manzana de Gomez, an ornate and imposing building to the east of Central
Park in Old Havana, is well behind schedule.
This luxury hotel, restored by the Cuban state in partnership with
French construction group, Bouygues, was supposed to open in October,
but chunks of the outer walls are missing.
Peering through the dust, the scene looks no different from any number
of other hotels being built in Havana.
But take a closer look and some of the labourers are different. They
work more hurriedly and speak different languages. Some wear turbans.
That is because 150 of the men building the Manzana de Gomez are Indian.
For the first time, the Communist Party has permitted a multinational to
directly hire foreign labour on a large scale.
Until now, overseas firms operating in Cuba have had to hire Cuban
workers through state labour agencies. Companies pay Cuba in dollars,
and Cuba pays workers in pesos, worth 25 times less. Severing the
connection between employer and employee makes it impossible to
institute any performance pay and yields low levels of productivity. The
status quo in Cuban workplaces can be neatly summed up by the old Soviet
joke: "We pretend to work; they pretend to pay us."
In March 2014, the Cuban government removed a major barrier to hiring
foreign workers when it passed a new foreign investment law allowing
different regulations concerning non-Cuban workers under "exceptional
circumstances".
In October 2015, Martin Bouygues, the chief executive of Bouygues and
godfather of Nicolas Sarkozy's youngest son, flew to Havana for a
special meeting with Raul Castro. This March, the new workers arrived.
The seismic shift has gone unreported by the island's state media but
word has got out about it in Havana. Thanks to Christopher Columbus's
hapless sense of direction, Cubans call the native peoples of the
Americas "Indians". Cubans refer to the people of India by another and
not altogether accurate label, "Hindus".
While the average Cuban earns $30 a month, Reuters has reported that the
Indian workers are being paid more than $1,500. The island is a hardy
redoubt of socialism, but as the spectre of capitalism haunts Cuba, is
wage discrimination fuelling resentment among Cubans?
'Follow that bus!'
"Brother peoples will always be able to count on solidarity and support
from Cuba. Raul Castro, 7th Congress of the Communist Party of Cuba,"
reads a billboard as I make my way to Old Havana to meet the new workers.
Bused in from camps 25km outside the city, they arrive on site at 7am
each day, work 12-hour shifts, and are then delivered back to camp.
Their walk from the building site to the coach at the end of the day is
just 50 metres. Making contact is tricky.
Narra Valdes, a plumber from Villa Clara province, is sitting in the
shade of the metal fence surrounding the building site and eating a
sandwich. He has just clocked off.
I ask him why the Indians are paid so much more than Cubans.
"That's what we've been asking ourselves," he says. "Cubans are too
conformist. We always take what we're given."
Nearby, a taxi driver idles on his 1970s Lada. To pass the time, he
claps his hands, barking "taxi, good price" at anyone who might be a
tourist - including me. I tell him I'm waiting for the deep-pocketed
Indians to finish work.
"$1,500 a month! Do you know how much that is? Pay me that and you can
take the car," he jokes, slapping the keys into my hand.
The gate opens and the Indian workers stream through. I intercept a
group as they board the coach. They're in high spirits.
"You're welcome to see the camp," says Pranav*, a plumber
from Odisha. "Jump on the coach."
Doing so feels too brazen. Besides, the company chaperone won't let me
on, citing problems with the press. I take Pranav's number before the
chaperone intervenes.
"Follow that bus!" I shout to the cabbie, jumping into the Lada. The
adrenaline kicks in and I feel as if I'm in a movie. We follow the coach
out of Old Havana and along the city's iconic seaside boulevard, the
Malecon, where groups of fishermen sit frittering away time, waiting for
something to bite. I can see the labourers through the rear window of
the bus, which is tinted and sports a Che Guevara stencil.
We head under Havana Bay, through the tunnel connecting the main city to
the eastern suburbs. Re-emerging into daylight my driver gets pulled
over by the police who ask to check his papers. El Che and his
subcontinental comrades disappear into the distance.
Ali Baba and the 40 thieves
Back in Old Havana I meet up with Arami Yosik, a labourer from
Guantanamo who earns $60 a month - the same sum as the country's
celebrated doctors - for working on the Manzana de Gomez.
We have a drink at a terrace bar on Calle Obispo, one of Old Havana's
main tourist thoroughfares.
"Communication is difficult but there is friendship between the Cubans
and the Indians," he tells me, the incessant blur of backpackers and
guided tour groups streaming before us.
"The Hindus call us Ali Baba and the 40 thieves," he chuckles, and
places his beer on the table next to some overalls and an unopened
carton of guava juice given to him by his employers each lunchtime.
"One guy was jailed early on for 'inventing' drills. But there are so
many cameras there now that you can't invent."
Cubans use euphemistic verbs to describe petty thievery: "inventing",
"resolving" or "struggling". The last of these carries a delicious
irony. For the past 50 years the revolution has called on the population
to unite in collective struggle against adversity. They have taken the
message on board and adapted it to their reality.
Addressing this Cuban particularity, I tease my housemate that I'm
exposing how her compatriots spend their most productive hours. She
reacts with indignation: "Do you think we are stealing or taking what we
deserve?" She earns $1.50 a day as a university lecturer. It's hard to
disagree.
But as more foreign firms partner up with the state to develop
infrastructure projects, Cuba's tacit social contract is breaking down.
Multinationals demand results and import foreign standards. They have
the technology, vigilance and rigour to stamp out "inventing".
Yosik points out a former workmate who is walking among the throng of
tourists. "He used to be at the Manzana de Gomez. Now he's installing a
kitchen for some nouveau riches just off the Malecon."
Amid rising inequality, openness towards foreign workers
Inequality in Cuba, kept low for decades, is now widening quickly.
Official figures put the ratio between the highest and lowest earners at
seven to one. But this only captures wage inequality in the state sector.
Raul Castro's reforms, presented as an inexorable move towards
free-market capitalism by much of the international press and an update
of Cuba's socialist economic model by the state, have opened up pockets
of capitalism in the national economy.
This trend has invigorated some sectors but also poses certain problems
which didn't previously exist. Talented builders and plumbers,
carpenters and masons can now earn three times as much working in the
private sector than toiling for the state. Inevitably, they are peeling
away from public employment.
The Indians, of course, are taking home much more than any Cuban builder.
Does this irritate Yosik?
"No," he says. "They're earning their money, we're earning ours."
It's hardly fair for Cubans if they're doing the same work, I suggest.
"But I can't do anything about that, can I Eduardo?"
"How about going on strike?" I venture, knowing better.
"That's a political question," he says, and abruptly directs the
conversation in a less charged direction.
Cuban warm-heartedness, as well as apathy and a sense of powerlessness
over their capacity to shape political and economic outcomes, go some
way to accounting for Yosik's attitude. Nonetheless, the absence of
resentment is striking.
It's refreshing, I find, when one considers how politics in the United
States and Europe have taken an anti-immigrant turn, partly generated by
outsiders competing in the same labour market as natives.
Contemplate how toxic the reaction would be if countries, say the UK,
not only allowed immigrants to take "British jobs", but established them
on a separate, considerably more lucrative, pay scale. Blood - or at
least splenetic tabloid headlines - would spill. But not in Cuba.
We finish the last of our beer and walk up the street back towards the
Manzana de Gomez. Yosik sells his carton of juice to a woman selling
soft drinks at a kiosk. He pockets 60 cents. "The struggle" is not dead yet.
Cuba's tourism ambitions
"Cubans are different," says Jose Luis Perello, from the University of
Havana's Faculty of Tourism.
"Cuba was the only country in the New World where virtually the whole
indigenous population was wiped out. So Cuba's population was formed of
immigrants: Spanish immigrants, African immigrants, Chinese immigrants,
Arab immigrants. How can Cubans be hostile to those from the outside
when they themselves are immigrants?"
We're sitting on the terrace of the Hotel Presidente, an art deco hotel
built in the 1920s. The hotel manager comes out to greet Perello, an old
friend. "The Hindus working on the Manzana de Gomez!" the manager says,
rolling his eyes disapprovingly.
"I'm one of those in favour of them being here," Perello replies, taking
a drag on his filter-free cigarette.
Cuba's population was formed of immigrants: Spanish immigrants, African
immigrants, Chinese immigrants, Arab immigrants. How can Cubans be
hostile to those from the outside when they themselves are immigrants?"
Jose Luis Perello, Faculty of Tourism at the University of Havana
"Aren't we Cubans already working all over the world as teachers,
doctors and sports trainers? So it's all right for us but not for them?
And you know what - they work faster."
The manager disagrees. "We Cubans are great workers. We need to have
faith," he says.
A record 3.5 million tourists came to Cuba last year, and for 2016 the
number of US visitors looks set to double, as direct flights and cruises
are re-established after a 50-year hiatus.
Barak Obama's surprise announcement on December 17, 2014, that US-Cuban
relations would move towards normalisation triggered this deluge of
curious foreigners.
"In one day, in one speech, everything changed. We're going to renew the
relationship? Jesus Christ!" says Perello, pounding the table. "For the
last 50 years Cuba has operated on the basis of restrictions with the
US. We never thought that a different situation would come about, but
now we're facing a surge in tourism the likes of which we never imagined."
Cuba's plans for growing its tourism sector are eye-wateringly
ambitious. The government aims to take the total number of hotel rooms
from 63,000 to over 170,000 by 2030, according to Ministry of Tourism
figures. Hitting this target would restore Cuba as the queen of
Caribbean tourism, a position it enjoyed before the revolution.
Perello is convinced that to unlock the future, the island must embrace
international labour mobility.
"How are we going to build all this in such a short time frame if we
don't use foreign labour? And once these resorts are built there's the
question of who will run them. In many of the islands off the north
coast, the working age population is smaller than what will be needed to
run the hotels. And even if all the Cubans there work in tourism, who'll
be left to drive the buses and farm potatoes?"
Pranav, the Indian plumber
I finally meet up with Pranav in Central Park at 10am on a Sunday. We
sit down on the cool marble slabs in the plaza. Baseball corner is right
beside us, and it's difficult to speak over the gregarious fanatics who
have congregated to scream at each other about whose team will win this
year's championship.
"Cuba's beautiful and the people are good," he tells me. "But their work
is slow and careless. They don't pay attention to detail."
The workers come from Odisha, Rajasthan, Bihar, Delhi and Uttar Pradesh.
It's Pranav's first time outside India but many of his colleagues have
worked on hotels in Dubai, Qatar and Singapore, bringing with them
experience on high-spec projects that Cuban workers simply don't have.
"Life is free and the gap between the little man and the rich man is
much smaller than in India," he observes. "I like that. But my problem
here is that I have no time."
Sunday is his only day off and like most of his workmates he gets up
early to come into town to call his wife and children over the internet.
Each one-hour card costs him $2 and with the rickety internet the calls
keep cutting out. He has to make sure he is back at camp for lunch at
1pm to avoid spending money on food.
The rest of the week, he spends his time either on site or in the camp.
Curfew is at 10pm. He doesn't speak Spanish, isn't familiar with Cuban
culture or history, and is unlikely to become so, given the exacting
controls over his space and time.
While Pranav is pleased to be earning more than in India and to have a
year's solid work, reports of giant pay-packets are exaggerated,
according to him. He tells me the Indian labourers have been instructed
not to speak to the media, because the reports of them earning more than
$1,500 have caused difficulties. He says he should earn $450 per month,
$350 of which will go to cover rent, bills and his children's education,
but he's been in Cuba since July and as of September had so far only
been paid one month's wages.
Though paid many times more than his Cuban counterparts, his immigration
status is dependent on a visa granted by a multinational and the host
state. He is vulnerable and exploitable: a prisoner-king finding his way
in post-modern Cuba.
I'd planned to photograph some of the places he visits in his free time,
but apart from the internet cafe there aren't any. Besides, he worries
that his pay could be docked and his visa revoked if I reveal his true
identity.
"Promise me you won't use my real name," he asks of me at the end of our
meeting. "Think of my children."
A new internationalism?
Is there a solution to keep up with Cuba's tourist demand that isn't
absurd on some level? Cuba finds itself at such a peculiar juncture that
the answer is probably no.
The island could stick with the system that has endured until now,
paying Cuban workers in pesos, thereby ensuring the hotels get built
long after the tourist boom has passed.
Alternatively, it could do what almost all Cubans want - if you want us
to work properly, raise our wages. But with what money? Public finances
are already squeezed and the extra expense could jeopardise universal
healthcare, to take one example, the financing of which is already
being scaled back. Raising wages only for those in the building sector
would plunge the Cuban labour market further down the rabbit hole,
guaranteeing even more stories of surgeons leaving their jobs to look
for better paying, lower skilled work.
The other option is to fully embrace the international labour market,
allowing foreign workers to be paid comparatively lavish salaries, while
the rest of the population scrapes by. This is playing with fire: it
treats Cubans as de facto second-class citizens in their own country.
But in terms of growing the economy and bringing in hard currency as
quickly as possible, the logic is impeccable.
My bet is that with Cuba's main ally Venezuela on the ropes, and market
discipline slowly entrenching itself on the island, this new
internationalism of the capitalistic variety will become the rule rather
than the exception. Cuba will be extending solidarity - and cash - to
"brother peoples" well into the future.
*This is a pseudonym at the request of the interviewee
The views expressed in this article are the author's own and do not
necessarily reflect Al Jazeera's editorial policy.
This story is part of the My Cuba series. More stories from the series
can be read here:
http://www.aljazeera.com/programmes/mycuba/cuba-160804105544014.html
Follow Ed Augustin on Twitter: @Ed_Augustin
Source: On the trail of Indian labourers in Cuba - News from Al Jazeera
-
http://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/features/2016/09/trail-indian-labourers-cuba-160927152644021.html
The largest ever group of foreign workers is earning more than their
Cuban counterparts. Is this fuelling resentment?
byEd Augustin @Ed_Augustin
Ed Augustin is a filmmaker and journalist. He's currently shooting a
feature film about Guantanamo Bay.
Havana, Cuba - Sparks fly and drills roar, but the restoration of the
Manzana de Gomez, an ornate and imposing building to the east of Central
Park in Old Havana, is well behind schedule.
This luxury hotel, restored by the Cuban state in partnership with
French construction group, Bouygues, was supposed to open in October,
but chunks of the outer walls are missing.
Peering through the dust, the scene looks no different from any number
of other hotels being built in Havana.
But take a closer look and some of the labourers are different. They
work more hurriedly and speak different languages. Some wear turbans.
That is because 150 of the men building the Manzana de Gomez are Indian.
For the first time, the Communist Party has permitted a multinational to
directly hire foreign labour on a large scale.
Until now, overseas firms operating in Cuba have had to hire Cuban
workers through state labour agencies. Companies pay Cuba in dollars,
and Cuba pays workers in pesos, worth 25 times less. Severing the
connection between employer and employee makes it impossible to
institute any performance pay and yields low levels of productivity. The
status quo in Cuban workplaces can be neatly summed up by the old Soviet
joke: "We pretend to work; they pretend to pay us."
In March 2014, the Cuban government removed a major barrier to hiring
foreign workers when it passed a new foreign investment law allowing
different regulations concerning non-Cuban workers under "exceptional
circumstances".
In October 2015, Martin Bouygues, the chief executive of Bouygues and
godfather of Nicolas Sarkozy's youngest son, flew to Havana for a
special meeting with Raul Castro. This March, the new workers arrived.
The seismic shift has gone unreported by the island's state media but
word has got out about it in Havana. Thanks to Christopher Columbus's
hapless sense of direction, Cubans call the native peoples of the
Americas "Indians". Cubans refer to the people of India by another and
not altogether accurate label, "Hindus".
While the average Cuban earns $30 a month, Reuters has reported that the
Indian workers are being paid more than $1,500. The island is a hardy
redoubt of socialism, but as the spectre of capitalism haunts Cuba, is
wage discrimination fuelling resentment among Cubans?
'Follow that bus!'
"Brother peoples will always be able to count on solidarity and support
from Cuba. Raul Castro, 7th Congress of the Communist Party of Cuba,"
reads a billboard as I make my way to Old Havana to meet the new workers.
Bused in from camps 25km outside the city, they arrive on site at 7am
each day, work 12-hour shifts, and are then delivered back to camp.
Their walk from the building site to the coach at the end of the day is
just 50 metres. Making contact is tricky.
Narra Valdes, a plumber from Villa Clara province, is sitting in the
shade of the metal fence surrounding the building site and eating a
sandwich. He has just clocked off.
I ask him why the Indians are paid so much more than Cubans.
"That's what we've been asking ourselves," he says. "Cubans are too
conformist. We always take what we're given."
Nearby, a taxi driver idles on his 1970s Lada. To pass the time, he
claps his hands, barking "taxi, good price" at anyone who might be a
tourist - including me. I tell him I'm waiting for the deep-pocketed
Indians to finish work.
"$1,500 a month! Do you know how much that is? Pay me that and you can
take the car," he jokes, slapping the keys into my hand.
The gate opens and the Indian workers stream through. I intercept a
group as they board the coach. They're in high spirits.
"You're welcome to see the camp," says Pranav*, a plumber
from Odisha. "Jump on the coach."
Doing so feels too brazen. Besides, the company chaperone won't let me
on, citing problems with the press. I take Pranav's number before the
chaperone intervenes.
"Follow that bus!" I shout to the cabbie, jumping into the Lada. The
adrenaline kicks in and I feel as if I'm in a movie. We follow the coach
out of Old Havana and along the city's iconic seaside boulevard, the
Malecon, where groups of fishermen sit frittering away time, waiting for
something to bite. I can see the labourers through the rear window of
the bus, which is tinted and sports a Che Guevara stencil.
We head under Havana Bay, through the tunnel connecting the main city to
the eastern suburbs. Re-emerging into daylight my driver gets pulled
over by the police who ask to check his papers. El Che and his
subcontinental comrades disappear into the distance.
Ali Baba and the 40 thieves
Back in Old Havana I meet up with Arami Yosik, a labourer from
Guantanamo who earns $60 a month - the same sum as the country's
celebrated doctors - for working on the Manzana de Gomez.
We have a drink at a terrace bar on Calle Obispo, one of Old Havana's
main tourist thoroughfares.
"Communication is difficult but there is friendship between the Cubans
and the Indians," he tells me, the incessant blur of backpackers and
guided tour groups streaming before us.
"The Hindus call us Ali Baba and the 40 thieves," he chuckles, and
places his beer on the table next to some overalls and an unopened
carton of guava juice given to him by his employers each lunchtime.
"One guy was jailed early on for 'inventing' drills. But there are so
many cameras there now that you can't invent."
Cubans use euphemistic verbs to describe petty thievery: "inventing",
"resolving" or "struggling". The last of these carries a delicious
irony. For the past 50 years the revolution has called on the population
to unite in collective struggle against adversity. They have taken the
message on board and adapted it to their reality.
Addressing this Cuban particularity, I tease my housemate that I'm
exposing how her compatriots spend their most productive hours. She
reacts with indignation: "Do you think we are stealing or taking what we
deserve?" She earns $1.50 a day as a university lecturer. It's hard to
disagree.
But as more foreign firms partner up with the state to develop
infrastructure projects, Cuba's tacit social contract is breaking down.
Multinationals demand results and import foreign standards. They have
the technology, vigilance and rigour to stamp out "inventing".
Yosik points out a former workmate who is walking among the throng of
tourists. "He used to be at the Manzana de Gomez. Now he's installing a
kitchen for some nouveau riches just off the Malecon."
Amid rising inequality, openness towards foreign workers
Inequality in Cuba, kept low for decades, is now widening quickly.
Official figures put the ratio between the highest and lowest earners at
seven to one. But this only captures wage inequality in the state sector.
Raul Castro's reforms, presented as an inexorable move towards
free-market capitalism by much of the international press and an update
of Cuba's socialist economic model by the state, have opened up pockets
of capitalism in the national economy.
This trend has invigorated some sectors but also poses certain problems
which didn't previously exist. Talented builders and plumbers,
carpenters and masons can now earn three times as much working in the
private sector than toiling for the state. Inevitably, they are peeling
away from public employment.
The Indians, of course, are taking home much more than any Cuban builder.
Does this irritate Yosik?
"No," he says. "They're earning their money, we're earning ours."
It's hardly fair for Cubans if they're doing the same work, I suggest.
"But I can't do anything about that, can I Eduardo?"
"How about going on strike?" I venture, knowing better.
"That's a political question," he says, and abruptly directs the
conversation in a less charged direction.
Cuban warm-heartedness, as well as apathy and a sense of powerlessness
over their capacity to shape political and economic outcomes, go some
way to accounting for Yosik's attitude. Nonetheless, the absence of
resentment is striking.
It's refreshing, I find, when one considers how politics in the United
States and Europe have taken an anti-immigrant turn, partly generated by
outsiders competing in the same labour market as natives.
Contemplate how toxic the reaction would be if countries, say the UK,
not only allowed immigrants to take "British jobs", but established them
on a separate, considerably more lucrative, pay scale. Blood - or at
least splenetic tabloid headlines - would spill. But not in Cuba.
We finish the last of our beer and walk up the street back towards the
Manzana de Gomez. Yosik sells his carton of juice to a woman selling
soft drinks at a kiosk. He pockets 60 cents. "The struggle" is not dead yet.
Cuba's tourism ambitions
"Cubans are different," says Jose Luis Perello, from the University of
Havana's Faculty of Tourism.
"Cuba was the only country in the New World where virtually the whole
indigenous population was wiped out. So Cuba's population was formed of
immigrants: Spanish immigrants, African immigrants, Chinese immigrants,
Arab immigrants. How can Cubans be hostile to those from the outside
when they themselves are immigrants?"
We're sitting on the terrace of the Hotel Presidente, an art deco hotel
built in the 1920s. The hotel manager comes out to greet Perello, an old
friend. "The Hindus working on the Manzana de Gomez!" the manager says,
rolling his eyes disapprovingly.
"I'm one of those in favour of them being here," Perello replies, taking
a drag on his filter-free cigarette.
Cuba's population was formed of immigrants: Spanish immigrants, African
immigrants, Chinese immigrants, Arab immigrants. How can Cubans be
hostile to those from the outside when they themselves are immigrants?"
Jose Luis Perello, Faculty of Tourism at the University of Havana
"Aren't we Cubans already working all over the world as teachers,
doctors and sports trainers? So it's all right for us but not for them?
And you know what - they work faster."
The manager disagrees. "We Cubans are great workers. We need to have
faith," he says.
A record 3.5 million tourists came to Cuba last year, and for 2016 the
number of US visitors looks set to double, as direct flights and cruises
are re-established after a 50-year hiatus.
Barak Obama's surprise announcement on December 17, 2014, that US-Cuban
relations would move towards normalisation triggered this deluge of
curious foreigners.
"In one day, in one speech, everything changed. We're going to renew the
relationship? Jesus Christ!" says Perello, pounding the table. "For the
last 50 years Cuba has operated on the basis of restrictions with the
US. We never thought that a different situation would come about, but
now we're facing a surge in tourism the likes of which we never imagined."
Cuba's plans for growing its tourism sector are eye-wateringly
ambitious. The government aims to take the total number of hotel rooms
from 63,000 to over 170,000 by 2030, according to Ministry of Tourism
figures. Hitting this target would restore Cuba as the queen of
Caribbean tourism, a position it enjoyed before the revolution.
Perello is convinced that to unlock the future, the island must embrace
international labour mobility.
"How are we going to build all this in such a short time frame if we
don't use foreign labour? And once these resorts are built there's the
question of who will run them. In many of the islands off the north
coast, the working age population is smaller than what will be needed to
run the hotels. And even if all the Cubans there work in tourism, who'll
be left to drive the buses and farm potatoes?"
Pranav, the Indian plumber
I finally meet up with Pranav in Central Park at 10am on a Sunday. We
sit down on the cool marble slabs in the plaza. Baseball corner is right
beside us, and it's difficult to speak over the gregarious fanatics who
have congregated to scream at each other about whose team will win this
year's championship.
"Cuba's beautiful and the people are good," he tells me. "But their work
is slow and careless. They don't pay attention to detail."
The workers come from Odisha, Rajasthan, Bihar, Delhi and Uttar Pradesh.
It's Pranav's first time outside India but many of his colleagues have
worked on hotels in Dubai, Qatar and Singapore, bringing with them
experience on high-spec projects that Cuban workers simply don't have.
"Life is free and the gap between the little man and the rich man is
much smaller than in India," he observes. "I like that. But my problem
here is that I have no time."
Sunday is his only day off and like most of his workmates he gets up
early to come into town to call his wife and children over the internet.
Each one-hour card costs him $2 and with the rickety internet the calls
keep cutting out. He has to make sure he is back at camp for lunch at
1pm to avoid spending money on food.
The rest of the week, he spends his time either on site or in the camp.
Curfew is at 10pm. He doesn't speak Spanish, isn't familiar with Cuban
culture or history, and is unlikely to become so, given the exacting
controls over his space and time.
While Pranav is pleased to be earning more than in India and to have a
year's solid work, reports of giant pay-packets are exaggerated,
according to him. He tells me the Indian labourers have been instructed
not to speak to the media, because the reports of them earning more than
$1,500 have caused difficulties. He says he should earn $450 per month,
$350 of which will go to cover rent, bills and his children's education,
but he's been in Cuba since July and as of September had so far only
been paid one month's wages.
Though paid many times more than his Cuban counterparts, his immigration
status is dependent on a visa granted by a multinational and the host
state. He is vulnerable and exploitable: a prisoner-king finding his way
in post-modern Cuba.
I'd planned to photograph some of the places he visits in his free time,
but apart from the internet cafe there aren't any. Besides, he worries
that his pay could be docked and his visa revoked if I reveal his true
identity.
"Promise me you won't use my real name," he asks of me at the end of our
meeting. "Think of my children."
A new internationalism?
Is there a solution to keep up with Cuba's tourist demand that isn't
absurd on some level? Cuba finds itself at such a peculiar juncture that
the answer is probably no.
The island could stick with the system that has endured until now,
paying Cuban workers in pesos, thereby ensuring the hotels get built
long after the tourist boom has passed.
Alternatively, it could do what almost all Cubans want - if you want us
to work properly, raise our wages. But with what money? Public finances
are already squeezed and the extra expense could jeopardise universal
healthcare, to take one example, the financing of which is already
being scaled back. Raising wages only for those in the building sector
would plunge the Cuban labour market further down the rabbit hole,
guaranteeing even more stories of surgeons leaving their jobs to look
for better paying, lower skilled work.
The other option is to fully embrace the international labour market,
allowing foreign workers to be paid comparatively lavish salaries, while
the rest of the population scrapes by. This is playing with fire: it
treats Cubans as de facto second-class citizens in their own country.
But in terms of growing the economy and bringing in hard currency as
quickly as possible, the logic is impeccable.
My bet is that with Cuba's main ally Venezuela on the ropes, and market
discipline slowly entrenching itself on the island, this new
internationalism of the capitalistic variety will become the rule rather
than the exception. Cuba will be extending solidarity - and cash - to
"brother peoples" well into the future.
*This is a pseudonym at the request of the interviewee
The views expressed in this article are the author's own and do not
necessarily reflect Al Jazeera's editorial policy.
This story is part of the My Cuba series. More stories from the series
can be read here:
http://www.aljazeera.com/programmes/mycuba/cuba-160804105544014.html
Follow Ed Augustin on Twitter: @Ed_Augustin
Source: On the trail of Indian labourers in Cuba - News from Al Jazeera
-
http://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/features/2016/09/trail-indian-labourers-cuba-160927152644021.html
Gentrification - another face of Cuba's socialist equality
Gentrification: another face of Cuba's socialist equality
JORGE ENRIQUE RODRÍGUEZ | La Habana | 10 de Octubre de 2016 - 09:25 CEST.
If there is one issue the Cuban Government has failed to resolve in over
50 years it is, undoubtedly, that of residential spaces. Cuba's "housing
problems," as Government officials refer to them, cut across all the
Island's socio-cultural strata.
Overcrowding, as notes psychologist Yanet Cruz Hoyos, "besides being a
factor associated with domestic violence, is identified by most Cuban
families as one of the main problems that affect their daily lives," as
"many people are forced to share small physical spaces."
The rhetoric of social equity, upheld by the sole party and promoted by
its ideological affiliates, has never squared with the economic reality
of everyday Cubans. And the "housing problem" manifests more clearly
that the reform of laws allowing the sale of houses and apartments has
not yielded equal opportunities to acquire decent living spaces.
According to the figures in the 2014 Statistical Yearbook, in its
chapter on construction and investments, completed homes in Havana
during that period came to a total of 4,090, of which 3,096 were built
by the State sector. But the data did not specify for whom, for what
purposes, and where these "finished homes" are located.
The writer Arsenio Castillo Martiatu notes that Havana has become "the
capital of gentrification" (a process of neighborhood transformation
that involves the implementation of new social and economic applications
and the displacement of traditional residents, who cannot afford the
rising housing costs. These areas become homogeneous in terms of their
social composition, populated by more affluent people).
It is no secret that for most Cubans, "if it was previously impossible
to legally sell your home, it is now almost impossible to legally buy a
property. At current prices – tens of thousands of CUC for an apartment
or house – the possibility is nil. There are no saving mechanisms, no
loans of this magnitude, or wages making it possible. Neighborhoods
undergoing gentrification are usually located near the center of the
city, including the coveted Vedado, where owning a good house or
apartment means one must have the opportunity to run a rental business,
or a restaurant or bar," says Castillo Martiatu.
The introduction of the "new economic model," designed with more with a
view to political power than promoting the entrepreneurial spirit of
citizens, has been a failure in its empowerment of civil society. The
ownership rates for Cubans, both on the Island and those in exile, are low.
"The flourishing of the construction of homes through one's own efforts
is proportional to the growth of social inequality," says Euripides
Barrientos, an architect and the founder of Contingente Blas Roca. The
same applies to the sale of properties.
Gentrification or recolonization?
"We do not sell ideas, we make them reality." This is the slogan of a
private construction sector group in charge of remodeling, among others,
the local Bar 911 (in 27 corner 4) and Piano Bar H and 23, both in Vedado.
One of its masons, Leonel G. Rodriguez, explained that the group also
offers interior design services. "We focus on creating residences
reflecting the current trends of minimalism and brutalism," he says.
"It's almost impossible for an everyday Cuban to afford our services,
due to the high cost of investment in quality materials and work. Both
the houses and business locales that we have designed or remodeled are
for people with affluent relatives living abroad, or foreigners who come
to invest in Cuba and acquire these properties through Cuban owners."
Although the Government has not yet implemented a law allowing
foreigners to buy property directly, both residential and business,
foreign capital is being invested through Cuban owners living on the Island.
"Gentrification in Cuba began long before the current reform measures
undertaken by the national institutes of Physical Planning and Housing,"
says Iznaga, an economist and ex-manager of the Caracol chain.
"This reform also served to justify what was already obvious: a country
that was being bought up, piece by piece, by private foreign investors
and the Government's military elite," he says.
"One example of the people who will have the opportunity to empower
themselves is the GAESA's 'coup' against the Havana Historian's Office.
Cubans who, thanks to their own efforts, manage to acquire luxurious
properties or businesses are few, and the important thing is to ask how
they acquired the capital, because gentrification in Cuba is also the
result of a third factor: internal corruption."
Source: Gentrification: another face of Cuba's socialist equality |
Diario de Cuba - http://www.diariodecuba.com/cuba/1476084334_25899.html
JORGE ENRIQUE RODRÍGUEZ | La Habana | 10 de Octubre de 2016 - 09:25 CEST.
If there is one issue the Cuban Government has failed to resolve in over
50 years it is, undoubtedly, that of residential spaces. Cuba's "housing
problems," as Government officials refer to them, cut across all the
Island's socio-cultural strata.
Overcrowding, as notes psychologist Yanet Cruz Hoyos, "besides being a
factor associated with domestic violence, is identified by most Cuban
families as one of the main problems that affect their daily lives," as
"many people are forced to share small physical spaces."
The rhetoric of social equity, upheld by the sole party and promoted by
its ideological affiliates, has never squared with the economic reality
of everyday Cubans. And the "housing problem" manifests more clearly
that the reform of laws allowing the sale of houses and apartments has
not yielded equal opportunities to acquire decent living spaces.
According to the figures in the 2014 Statistical Yearbook, in its
chapter on construction and investments, completed homes in Havana
during that period came to a total of 4,090, of which 3,096 were built
by the State sector. But the data did not specify for whom, for what
purposes, and where these "finished homes" are located.
The writer Arsenio Castillo Martiatu notes that Havana has become "the
capital of gentrification" (a process of neighborhood transformation
that involves the implementation of new social and economic applications
and the displacement of traditional residents, who cannot afford the
rising housing costs. These areas become homogeneous in terms of their
social composition, populated by more affluent people).
It is no secret that for most Cubans, "if it was previously impossible
to legally sell your home, it is now almost impossible to legally buy a
property. At current prices – tens of thousands of CUC for an apartment
or house – the possibility is nil. There are no saving mechanisms, no
loans of this magnitude, or wages making it possible. Neighborhoods
undergoing gentrification are usually located near the center of the
city, including the coveted Vedado, where owning a good house or
apartment means one must have the opportunity to run a rental business,
or a restaurant or bar," says Castillo Martiatu.
The introduction of the "new economic model," designed with more with a
view to political power than promoting the entrepreneurial spirit of
citizens, has been a failure in its empowerment of civil society. The
ownership rates for Cubans, both on the Island and those in exile, are low.
"The flourishing of the construction of homes through one's own efforts
is proportional to the growth of social inequality," says Euripides
Barrientos, an architect and the founder of Contingente Blas Roca. The
same applies to the sale of properties.
Gentrification or recolonization?
"We do not sell ideas, we make them reality." This is the slogan of a
private construction sector group in charge of remodeling, among others,
the local Bar 911 (in 27 corner 4) and Piano Bar H and 23, both in Vedado.
One of its masons, Leonel G. Rodriguez, explained that the group also
offers interior design services. "We focus on creating residences
reflecting the current trends of minimalism and brutalism," he says.
"It's almost impossible for an everyday Cuban to afford our services,
due to the high cost of investment in quality materials and work. Both
the houses and business locales that we have designed or remodeled are
for people with affluent relatives living abroad, or foreigners who come
to invest in Cuba and acquire these properties through Cuban owners."
Although the Government has not yet implemented a law allowing
foreigners to buy property directly, both residential and business,
foreign capital is being invested through Cuban owners living on the Island.
"Gentrification in Cuba began long before the current reform measures
undertaken by the national institutes of Physical Planning and Housing,"
says Iznaga, an economist and ex-manager of the Caracol chain.
"This reform also served to justify what was already obvious: a country
that was being bought up, piece by piece, by private foreign investors
and the Government's military elite," he says.
"One example of the people who will have the opportunity to empower
themselves is the GAESA's 'coup' against the Havana Historian's Office.
Cubans who, thanks to their own efforts, manage to acquire luxurious
properties or businesses are few, and the important thing is to ask how
they acquired the capital, because gentrification in Cuba is also the
result of a third factor: internal corruption."
Source: Gentrification: another face of Cuba's socialist equality |
Diario de Cuba - http://www.diariodecuba.com/cuba/1476084334_25899.html
Sunday, October 9, 2016
Russia Studies Reopening Its Military Bases In Cuba And Vietnam
Russia Studies Reopening Its Military Bases In Cuba And Vietnam / 14ymedio
14ymedio, Havana, 7 October 2016 — Russian Deputy Defense Minister
Nikolai Pankov, announced that his country is considering returning to
military bases in Cuba and Vietnam and is reconsidering, therefore,
their pending decommissioning.
"If necessary, we should reopen these bases, both in Cuba and in
Vietnam, if they do not want to use diplomatic language with us, we will
fight the threat to peace," said the parliamentarian from the
president's party, Fair Russia. The politician specified, according to
Russian news agencies, that he was referring primarily to "a neo-fascist
organization called the Islamic State and all its sponsors."
The base in Lourdes, near Havana, was operated by Moscow between 1967
and 2001, and was the largest Soviet radio-electronic espionage center
outside its national territory, according to experts, from which the
USSR was able to observe the entire Western Hemisphere.
In July 2014, the Moscow press was already speculating about the
reopening of the Lourdes base, based on news sources from the Kremlin
but denied by President Vladimir Putin himself.
Months later, in October, the Minister of Defense of the Russian
Federation Sergey Shoigu, announced that Russia will actively develop
its military bases abroad, particularly in Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan and
Armenia and raised the idea of creating a network in Vietnam, Cuba,
Venezuela, Nicaragua, Seychelles and Singapore.
Source: Russia Studies Reopening Its Military Bases In Cuba And Vietnam
/ 14ymedio – Translating Cuba -
http://translatingcuba.com/russia-studies-reopening-its-military-bases-in-cuba-and-vietnam-14ymedio/
14ymedio, Havana, 7 October 2016 — Russian Deputy Defense Minister
Nikolai Pankov, announced that his country is considering returning to
military bases in Cuba and Vietnam and is reconsidering, therefore,
their pending decommissioning.
"If necessary, we should reopen these bases, both in Cuba and in
Vietnam, if they do not want to use diplomatic language with us, we will
fight the threat to peace," said the parliamentarian from the
president's party, Fair Russia. The politician specified, according to
Russian news agencies, that he was referring primarily to "a neo-fascist
organization called the Islamic State and all its sponsors."
The base in Lourdes, near Havana, was operated by Moscow between 1967
and 2001, and was the largest Soviet radio-electronic espionage center
outside its national territory, according to experts, from which the
USSR was able to observe the entire Western Hemisphere.
In July 2014, the Moscow press was already speculating about the
reopening of the Lourdes base, based on news sources from the Kremlin
but denied by President Vladimir Putin himself.
Months later, in October, the Minister of Defense of the Russian
Federation Sergey Shoigu, announced that Russia will actively develop
its military bases abroad, particularly in Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan and
Armenia and raised the idea of creating a network in Vietnam, Cuba,
Venezuela, Nicaragua, Seychelles and Singapore.
Source: Russia Studies Reopening Its Military Bases In Cuba And Vietnam
/ 14ymedio – Translating Cuba -
http://translatingcuba.com/russia-studies-reopening-its-military-bases-in-cuba-and-vietnam-14ymedio/
Saturday, October 8, 2016
Matthew and Oblivion Join Forces Against La Máquina in Guantanamo
Matthew and Oblivion Join Forces Against La Máquina in Guantanamo /
14ymedio, Yunier Reyes
14ymedio, Yunier Reyes, Baracoa, 7 October 2016 – "There is not a single
roof here that the wind didn't take," commented Jorge Luis, a villager
of La Máquina, one of the poorest areas of Cuba in the territory of
Maisí, Guantanamo. At roughly 900 feet above sea level, the residents of
the remote place say that since the passing of Hurricane Matthew the
first government aid still hasn't reached the area.
"We hid in the bathroom of the house," recalls this farmer who was born
in the easternmost point of the island and says he has never having seen
anything like what happened during Tuesday night. "Everything was
doubled over with the wind and the pressure was so strong that I could
hardly swallow my own saliva," he explains. "It was more than six hours
that we couldn't even move," he recalls with fear.
The locals have always looked enviously at neighboring Baracoa. "They at
least have tourists coming, who leave behind some money, but here nobody
passes. Who is going to be interested in seeing this town where there is
nothing?" asks Jorge Luis's eldest son, who helps his father farm. The
young man believes that "donations will rain down" on the larger town,
but "from there to here is a long way."
The dangerous stretch of road linking Cajobabo with La Máquina and Punta
de Maisí is not passable at the moment for cars, but entire families
have dared to make their way along it, struggling to get around the
rocks and chunks of concrete and asphalt that now mark the damaged
road. They go to nearby villages in search of food, on a walk that must
be made in haste.
Jorge Luis made a stretch of the journey on Thursday afternoon with an
empty sack over his shoulder. "I have to get some food because we
already ran out," he says. At the home of some of his cousins they gave
him some sweet potatoes and a piece of salt pork. "We will be surviving
with this until they begin to distribute food," he says.
"The coffee is very affected," says the farmer, and telephone
communications and electrical service are still not working, but the
latter two problems do not seem to worry Jorge Luis very much. "We have
always lived with very little. In my house we can only turn on a light
bulb occasionally because the voltage has always been very low."
La Máquina's first sidewalks were poured last year and "they are already
deteriorated because the builders stole some of the materials,"
explained the Guantanameran. With Matthew's rains the whole place was
turned into a quagmire only navigable in rubber boots. Children travel
on the shoulders of their parents and bicycles can barely advance
through the mud.
In Punta Caleta, the site where Matthew touched down on the island,
"there's nothing left even to tie a goat to," the farmer – who also has
relatives in the area – says sarcastically. "Even the trees were
uprooted." The bridges in the region are also seriously damaged, which
is preventing the arrival of maintenance brigades and food supplies.
Intense rains have damaged the region and the Rio Seco – Dry River – has
belied its name and flooded to the point that the villages in the area
are incommunicado. "The rains failed us, but not now, really, not now,"
reflects Jorge Luis, as he works his way around the obstacles toward the
town of Cajobabo. On both sides of what was once a highway the palms are
pressed flat against the ground as if a giant had passed over them.
Source: Matthew and Oblivion Join Forces Against La Máquina in
Guantanamo / 14ymedio, Yunier Reyes – Translating Cuba -
http://translatingcuba.com/matthew-and-oblivion-join-forces-against-la-maquina-in-guantanamo-14ymedio-yunier-reyes/
14ymedio, Yunier Reyes
14ymedio, Yunier Reyes, Baracoa, 7 October 2016 – "There is not a single
roof here that the wind didn't take," commented Jorge Luis, a villager
of La Máquina, one of the poorest areas of Cuba in the territory of
Maisí, Guantanamo. At roughly 900 feet above sea level, the residents of
the remote place say that since the passing of Hurricane Matthew the
first government aid still hasn't reached the area.
"We hid in the bathroom of the house," recalls this farmer who was born
in the easternmost point of the island and says he has never having seen
anything like what happened during Tuesday night. "Everything was
doubled over with the wind and the pressure was so strong that I could
hardly swallow my own saliva," he explains. "It was more than six hours
that we couldn't even move," he recalls with fear.
The locals have always looked enviously at neighboring Baracoa. "They at
least have tourists coming, who leave behind some money, but here nobody
passes. Who is going to be interested in seeing this town where there is
nothing?" asks Jorge Luis's eldest son, who helps his father farm. The
young man believes that "donations will rain down" on the larger town,
but "from there to here is a long way."
The dangerous stretch of road linking Cajobabo with La Máquina and Punta
de Maisí is not passable at the moment for cars, but entire families
have dared to make their way along it, struggling to get around the
rocks and chunks of concrete and asphalt that now mark the damaged
road. They go to nearby villages in search of food, on a walk that must
be made in haste.
Jorge Luis made a stretch of the journey on Thursday afternoon with an
empty sack over his shoulder. "I have to get some food because we
already ran out," he says. At the home of some of his cousins they gave
him some sweet potatoes and a piece of salt pork. "We will be surviving
with this until they begin to distribute food," he says.
"The coffee is very affected," says the farmer, and telephone
communications and electrical service are still not working, but the
latter two problems do not seem to worry Jorge Luis very much. "We have
always lived with very little. In my house we can only turn on a light
bulb occasionally because the voltage has always been very low."
La Máquina's first sidewalks were poured last year and "they are already
deteriorated because the builders stole some of the materials,"
explained the Guantanameran. With Matthew's rains the whole place was
turned into a quagmire only navigable in rubber boots. Children travel
on the shoulders of their parents and bicycles can barely advance
through the mud.
In Punta Caleta, the site where Matthew touched down on the island,
"there's nothing left even to tie a goat to," the farmer – who also has
relatives in the area – says sarcastically. "Even the trees were
uprooted." The bridges in the region are also seriously damaged, which
is preventing the arrival of maintenance brigades and food supplies.
Intense rains have damaged the region and the Rio Seco – Dry River – has
belied its name and flooded to the point that the villages in the area
are incommunicado. "The rains failed us, but not now, really, not now,"
reflects Jorge Luis, as he works his way around the obstacles toward the
town of Cajobabo. On both sides of what was once a highway the palms are
pressed flat against the ground as if a giant had passed over them.
Source: Matthew and Oblivion Join Forces Against La Máquina in
Guantanamo / 14ymedio, Yunier Reyes – Translating Cuba -
http://translatingcuba.com/matthew-and-oblivion-join-forces-against-la-maquina-in-guantanamo-14ymedio-yunier-reyes/
Cuban Diaspora Organizes To Send Aid To Areas Affected By Hurricane Matthew
Cuban Diaspora Organizes To Send Aid To Areas Affected By Hurricane
Matthew / 14ymedio, Mario Penton
14ymedio, Mario Penton, Miami, 7 October 2016 — The devastation caused
by Hurricane Matthew in Baracoa and in the east end of the island has
sparked a movement of solidarity from the Cubans who live in different
parts of the world. Hours after the passage of terrible hurricane,
dozens of people looked for how to send aid to those affected.
The Cuban American National Foundation (CANF), based in Miami, will send
humanitarian aid through the opposition group on the island, the
Patriotic Union of Cuba (UNPACU).
Cristina Canales, a member of the board of the CANF, told 14ymedio that
they have been collecting aid for a week.
"From the images that have come out of the affected areas and multiple
comments from Cubans interested in collaborating, we decided to offer
the chance for the community to also send aid through our organization,"
said Canales.
"UNPACU has been posting videos of how to deliver this help. We want to
be very clear as to where the money goes, and for that we will be
posting regular updates on our website. We urge people to help through
our website or to call the foundation's offices," she said.
From Spain, the news aggregator CiberCuba on behalf of one of its
founding members, Luis Manuel Mazorra Fernandez, has posted a petition
on the platform Change.org to ask Cuban Customs to eliminate the payment
of fees for sending humanitarian aid to the island.
The action, called "Eliminate tariffs at Customs Cuba for sending
Hurricane Matthew Relief" already has more than 4,100 signatures of the
5,000 needed, explained Mazorra by telephone from Valencia, following a
precedent from 2008.
Cuban Customs levies a fee of about 20 CUC (roughly $20 US) for every
kilogram entering the country.
"We want to use our media power to help the victims. There are many
people who are suspicious about the use of the money. So we want to
promote this petition for Cubans wishing to send food and clothing
without tariffs, and in this way to help their fellow countrymen, "he said.
The platform has also made a collection of money to be sent to Caritas,
which has begun a campaign to help the most impoverished areas of
Guantanamo, along with other non-governmental organizations. But
according to Mazorra, "It is much better, if instead of sending money,
we can send products, because we already know that not much is resolved
in Cuba with money."
"The most important thing is to raise awareness, create noise for the
Cuban government to wake up and react," he said.
The founder of the digital site also referenced the censorship they have
been subjected to in recent weeks by the Cuban government.
"It's unfortunate because we have become one of the 10 most visited
pages of Cuba. It has affected us a lot. In Cuba we had a brutal
audience and maintained a neutral editorial line."
According to Mazorra, what is happening is a brutal campaign against
bloggers and official journalists. "We were accused of being financed by
USAID (US Agency for International Development), a complete lie, because
we have no relationship with any government or foreign agencies. We are
funded with advertising on the site. This is a project of only 20 people
in Spain, Miami and Cuba," he argued.
Source: Cuban Diaspora Organizes To Send Aid To Areas Affected By
Hurricane Matthew / 14ymedio, Mario Penton – Translating Cuba -
http://translatingcuba.com/cuban-diaspora-organizes-to-send-aid-to-areas-affected-by-hurricane-matthew-14ymedio-mario-penton/
Matthew / 14ymedio, Mario Penton
14ymedio, Mario Penton, Miami, 7 October 2016 — The devastation caused
by Hurricane Matthew in Baracoa and in the east end of the island has
sparked a movement of solidarity from the Cubans who live in different
parts of the world. Hours after the passage of terrible hurricane,
dozens of people looked for how to send aid to those affected.
The Cuban American National Foundation (CANF), based in Miami, will send
humanitarian aid through the opposition group on the island, the
Patriotic Union of Cuba (UNPACU).
Cristina Canales, a member of the board of the CANF, told 14ymedio that
they have been collecting aid for a week.
"From the images that have come out of the affected areas and multiple
comments from Cubans interested in collaborating, we decided to offer
the chance for the community to also send aid through our organization,"
said Canales.
"UNPACU has been posting videos of how to deliver this help. We want to
be very clear as to where the money goes, and for that we will be
posting regular updates on our website. We urge people to help through
our website or to call the foundation's offices," she said.
From Spain, the news aggregator CiberCuba on behalf of one of its
founding members, Luis Manuel Mazorra Fernandez, has posted a petition
on the platform Change.org to ask Cuban Customs to eliminate the payment
of fees for sending humanitarian aid to the island.
The action, called "Eliminate tariffs at Customs Cuba for sending
Hurricane Matthew Relief" already has more than 4,100 signatures of the
5,000 needed, explained Mazorra by telephone from Valencia, following a
precedent from 2008.
Cuban Customs levies a fee of about 20 CUC (roughly $20 US) for every
kilogram entering the country.
"We want to use our media power to help the victims. There are many
people who are suspicious about the use of the money. So we want to
promote this petition for Cubans wishing to send food and clothing
without tariffs, and in this way to help their fellow countrymen, "he said.
The platform has also made a collection of money to be sent to Caritas,
which has begun a campaign to help the most impoverished areas of
Guantanamo, along with other non-governmental organizations. But
according to Mazorra, "It is much better, if instead of sending money,
we can send products, because we already know that not much is resolved
in Cuba with money."
"The most important thing is to raise awareness, create noise for the
Cuban government to wake up and react," he said.
The founder of the digital site also referenced the censorship they have
been subjected to in recent weeks by the Cuban government.
"It's unfortunate because we have become one of the 10 most visited
pages of Cuba. It has affected us a lot. In Cuba we had a brutal
audience and maintained a neutral editorial line."
According to Mazorra, what is happening is a brutal campaign against
bloggers and official journalists. "We were accused of being financed by
USAID (US Agency for International Development), a complete lie, because
we have no relationship with any government or foreign agencies. We are
funded with advertising on the site. This is a project of only 20 people
in Spain, Miami and Cuba," he argued.
Source: Cuban Diaspora Organizes To Send Aid To Areas Affected By
Hurricane Matthew / 14ymedio, Mario Penton – Translating Cuba -
http://translatingcuba.com/cuban-diaspora-organizes-to-send-aid-to-areas-affected-by-hurricane-matthew-14ymedio-mario-penton/
Reflections Against a “Black Winter”
Reflections Against a "Black Winter" / Cubanet, Miriam Celaya
Miriam Celaya, Havana, 4 October 2016 — CUBALEX, an independent
organization dedicated to providing free legal aid to Cubans — an
essential service in a society where the abuse of rights is a permanent
part of daily life — in recent days suffered a sudden and brutal attack
at its headquarters in Havana, by the repressive forces of the government.
This unpredictable event, in which disproportionate and absolutely
unjustified violence was applied, marks a new chapter in the escalation
of terror that has been taking place in recent months against the
independent civil society of the Island in the form of harassment of
individuals and of various civic projects.
With this act, repression breaks its own routines and sends a grim
message: it is no longer about assaulting and beating dissidents and
opponents who demonstrate peacefully in the streets, but the regime is
willing to violate their own laws and indiscriminately level private
spaces in its attempt to crush any outbreak of dissent. No one is safe;
the Constitution and the laws are worthless against the power of the
State-Party-Clan Castro.
Meanwhile, the project Convivencia, the Law Association of Cuba,
independent journalists, unions and independent libraries, among others,
have also been receiving the unwanted attention of the political police
in the last three weeks, with no shortage of summonses, threats,
arbitrary arrests, seizures and "visits," both covert and open, a clear
sign that, despite the almost two years since the beginning of
reconciliation with the "imperialist enemy" and the end of the
belligerence, the top leadership is not even slightly willing to
tolerate the existence of areas of freedom and alternative positions to
its totalitarian power.
Put in perspective, since the raid of the Black Spring in 2003, the
picture has never been so baffling and obscure for independent civil
society, a fact that should trigger alerts in civilized societies that
defend the principles of democracy throughout the world.
In a clumsy effort to legitimize repression, the Castro regime has also
turned up its propaganda machine through its media monopoly, with its
old and hackneyed arguments: disqualification of its critics within
Cuba, as "mercenaries," "stateless,, "counter-revolutionaries," etc. –
and accusations against the US government of attempting to subvert the
political order in Cuba, to fund, either directly or indirectly,
"enemies of the revolution" and perversely maintain "politics of carrot
and stick," since the true intentions of Uncle Sam continue to be
reinstating capitalism in Cuba, something that is the well-known wish of
millions of Cubans.
Interestingly, this has not prevented the reconciliation process of the
Palace of the Revolution with the White House from continuing its
course. In fact, both parties consider that it is progressing
satisfactorily. Because it happens that the elders in olive green (or in
suits and ties, depending on the occasion) are more interested in
American dollars than these very "mercenaries of the internal
counterrevolution" whom they are accusing.
Repression, then, is not really based on the alleged bad habits of
sovereignty and self-determination – two buzzwords as corrupt as
everything else in Cuba – as their faithful spokesmen and their regional
allies argue. Nor it is that Castro and his claque aspire to a share of
the benefits that a normalization of relations with the powerful
Northern power would bring about. It is about wanting it all – dollars
and power – without intrusion and without question. For that purpose,
they need to complete their silent transition to succession without
uncomfortable interference from the restless actors of Cuba's
independent civil society. They also have the quiet acquiescence of
international public opinion and the approval of democratic governments
around the world, looking away distractedly as repression increases in
the exemplary Island.
This explains why this upsurge in violence by the forces of power stops
being logical, not contradictory. The Cuban reality is now so confusing
and controversial that there are no flat-out explanations to interpret
the signals in a unique or irrefutable way. The same question may
receive a number of different answers, not necessarily related to each
other.
For example, the most recent survey presented on the cover of CubaNet
had a simple question, as is to be expected of an inquiry of this
nature. It sought responses to whether the current escalation of
repression of the Castro regime is due to the impunity it enjoys before
the international community. And indeed, just 24 hours after the survey,
more than 80% of respondents (including this writer) did so in the
affirmative.
Though impunity is indeed a factor of great importance in this case,
because it stimulates the violent actions of the Castro hordes, it is
just one element to explain the repression, but it is not its essential
cause. In fact, there is not one essential cause, but several; and they
are all essentially within Cuba and not just in the international
political arena.
In that cluster of underlying causes – which are, in turn, the result of
the failure of the Castro model and its inability to stand on its own
so-called "socialist" founding principles—include, among others, an
increase in social discontent and dissident sectors (and others "who
disagree") in the country, with the corresponding increase in activism
and social groups potentially receptive to proposals for alternative
solutions to the regime; greater visibility of critical sectors from the
standpoint of the use of new information technologies and communications
to penetrate the official information monopoly, despite the still
precarious and insufficient capacity of Cubans to access to the
Internet; hopelessness and lack of prospects of a better future for new
generations, dramatically reflected in the sustained outflow of people
from the country and the whole crisis that stems from it; and the fading
myth of the "external enemy" which has created numerous pores in the
monolithic structure on which absolute power was based.
Add to this the current boom of new critical actors, in this case under
the same or similar ideological designation used by the Castro regime
(socialist, Marxist, José Martí-based and others), which move in two
different trends: those who advocate participatory and democratic
socialism to allow opportunities for all Cubans, regardless of their
political color; and those faithful followers of the thought and labor
of the Revolution, who recognize the historic generation and ignore the
political otherness but refuse to slavishly repeat the official line,
while claiming their participation in political decision-making, an
unthinkable heresy to the totalitarian power.
Following the logic of a regime that encompasses the worst of the
traditions in all other Latin American dictatorships and
totalitarianisms in the rest of the planet, we can only expect more
repression and terror in the immediate future. The Castro regime seems
to be preparing for what is being proclaimed as a Black Winter.
Paradoxically, every new repressive action that aims to provide the
image of strength and curb outbreaks of internal dissent exposes more
clearly the vulnerability of the regime and its own fears of losing the
absolute control exercised for nearly six decades.
Independent civil society's response against the dictatorship's
escalation in repression has been the same in all cases: don't give up,
keep the will to continue fighting peacefully for democracy in any
circumstances, an attitude that deserves greater recognition, respect
and support from democratic governments and international organizations
that demonstrated so much solidarity at times when they rewarded the
oldest satrapy of the Western world with their applause, their approval,
or their silence.
Translated by Norma Whiting
Source: Reflections Against a "Black Winter" / Cubanet, Miriam Celaya –
Translating Cuba -
http://translatingcuba.com/reflections-against-a-black-winter-cubanet-miriam-celaya/
Miriam Celaya, Havana, 4 October 2016 — CUBALEX, an independent
organization dedicated to providing free legal aid to Cubans — an
essential service in a society where the abuse of rights is a permanent
part of daily life — in recent days suffered a sudden and brutal attack
at its headquarters in Havana, by the repressive forces of the government.
This unpredictable event, in which disproportionate and absolutely
unjustified violence was applied, marks a new chapter in the escalation
of terror that has been taking place in recent months against the
independent civil society of the Island in the form of harassment of
individuals and of various civic projects.
With this act, repression breaks its own routines and sends a grim
message: it is no longer about assaulting and beating dissidents and
opponents who demonstrate peacefully in the streets, but the regime is
willing to violate their own laws and indiscriminately level private
spaces in its attempt to crush any outbreak of dissent. No one is safe;
the Constitution and the laws are worthless against the power of the
State-Party-Clan Castro.
Meanwhile, the project Convivencia, the Law Association of Cuba,
independent journalists, unions and independent libraries, among others,
have also been receiving the unwanted attention of the political police
in the last three weeks, with no shortage of summonses, threats,
arbitrary arrests, seizures and "visits," both covert and open, a clear
sign that, despite the almost two years since the beginning of
reconciliation with the "imperialist enemy" and the end of the
belligerence, the top leadership is not even slightly willing to
tolerate the existence of areas of freedom and alternative positions to
its totalitarian power.
Put in perspective, since the raid of the Black Spring in 2003, the
picture has never been so baffling and obscure for independent civil
society, a fact that should trigger alerts in civilized societies that
defend the principles of democracy throughout the world.
In a clumsy effort to legitimize repression, the Castro regime has also
turned up its propaganda machine through its media monopoly, with its
old and hackneyed arguments: disqualification of its critics within
Cuba, as "mercenaries," "stateless,, "counter-revolutionaries," etc. –
and accusations against the US government of attempting to subvert the
political order in Cuba, to fund, either directly or indirectly,
"enemies of the revolution" and perversely maintain "politics of carrot
and stick," since the true intentions of Uncle Sam continue to be
reinstating capitalism in Cuba, something that is the well-known wish of
millions of Cubans.
Interestingly, this has not prevented the reconciliation process of the
Palace of the Revolution with the White House from continuing its
course. In fact, both parties consider that it is progressing
satisfactorily. Because it happens that the elders in olive green (or in
suits and ties, depending on the occasion) are more interested in
American dollars than these very "mercenaries of the internal
counterrevolution" whom they are accusing.
Repression, then, is not really based on the alleged bad habits of
sovereignty and self-determination – two buzzwords as corrupt as
everything else in Cuba – as their faithful spokesmen and their regional
allies argue. Nor it is that Castro and his claque aspire to a share of
the benefits that a normalization of relations with the powerful
Northern power would bring about. It is about wanting it all – dollars
and power – without intrusion and without question. For that purpose,
they need to complete their silent transition to succession without
uncomfortable interference from the restless actors of Cuba's
independent civil society. They also have the quiet acquiescence of
international public opinion and the approval of democratic governments
around the world, looking away distractedly as repression increases in
the exemplary Island.
This explains why this upsurge in violence by the forces of power stops
being logical, not contradictory. The Cuban reality is now so confusing
and controversial that there are no flat-out explanations to interpret
the signals in a unique or irrefutable way. The same question may
receive a number of different answers, not necessarily related to each
other.
For example, the most recent survey presented on the cover of CubaNet
had a simple question, as is to be expected of an inquiry of this
nature. It sought responses to whether the current escalation of
repression of the Castro regime is due to the impunity it enjoys before
the international community. And indeed, just 24 hours after the survey,
more than 80% of respondents (including this writer) did so in the
affirmative.
Though impunity is indeed a factor of great importance in this case,
because it stimulates the violent actions of the Castro hordes, it is
just one element to explain the repression, but it is not its essential
cause. In fact, there is not one essential cause, but several; and they
are all essentially within Cuba and not just in the international
political arena.
In that cluster of underlying causes – which are, in turn, the result of
the failure of the Castro model and its inability to stand on its own
so-called "socialist" founding principles—include, among others, an
increase in social discontent and dissident sectors (and others "who
disagree") in the country, with the corresponding increase in activism
and social groups potentially receptive to proposals for alternative
solutions to the regime; greater visibility of critical sectors from the
standpoint of the use of new information technologies and communications
to penetrate the official information monopoly, despite the still
precarious and insufficient capacity of Cubans to access to the
Internet; hopelessness and lack of prospects of a better future for new
generations, dramatically reflected in the sustained outflow of people
from the country and the whole crisis that stems from it; and the fading
myth of the "external enemy" which has created numerous pores in the
monolithic structure on which absolute power was based.
Add to this the current boom of new critical actors, in this case under
the same or similar ideological designation used by the Castro regime
(socialist, Marxist, José Martí-based and others), which move in two
different trends: those who advocate participatory and democratic
socialism to allow opportunities for all Cubans, regardless of their
political color; and those faithful followers of the thought and labor
of the Revolution, who recognize the historic generation and ignore the
political otherness but refuse to slavishly repeat the official line,
while claiming their participation in political decision-making, an
unthinkable heresy to the totalitarian power.
Following the logic of a regime that encompasses the worst of the
traditions in all other Latin American dictatorships and
totalitarianisms in the rest of the planet, we can only expect more
repression and terror in the immediate future. The Castro regime seems
to be preparing for what is being proclaimed as a Black Winter.
Paradoxically, every new repressive action that aims to provide the
image of strength and curb outbreaks of internal dissent exposes more
clearly the vulnerability of the regime and its own fears of losing the
absolute control exercised for nearly six decades.
Independent civil society's response against the dictatorship's
escalation in repression has been the same in all cases: don't give up,
keep the will to continue fighting peacefully for democracy in any
circumstances, an attitude that deserves greater recognition, respect
and support from democratic governments and international organizations
that demonstrated so much solidarity at times when they rewarded the
oldest satrapy of the Western world with their applause, their approval,
or their silence.
Translated by Norma Whiting
Source: Reflections Against a "Black Winter" / Cubanet, Miriam Celaya –
Translating Cuba -
http://translatingcuba.com/reflections-against-a-black-winter-cubanet-miriam-celaya/
Raul Castro in Santiago de Cuba Because of Matthew
Raul Castro in Santiago de Cuba Because of Matthew? / Juan Juan Almeida
Juan Juan Almeida, 6 October 2016 — Santiago de Cuba is, as Cuba's
ruling class puts it, a big headache. Disasters and conflicts are music
to the ears of politicians. And a very destructive Hurricane Matthew
presented Raul Castro with an excellent opportunity to kill two birds
with one stone: He could correct an old mistake while reducing the
visibility of a man who has earned many people's respect.
On the morning of October 25, 2012, Hurricane Sandy passed over the
eastern edge of the island. In its wake, the Category 2 storm caused
extensive property damage, injured more than a hundred people and
resulted in eleven fatalities. People there were terrified but felt
abandoned because the nation's president did not bother to make an
appearance in the region. And this oversight brought on a whirlwind of
jokes and criticisms.
Though compelling, the stated reason for the General's recent visit was
less than convincing. No sooner had the hurricane alarm been sounded in
the east than the ringleader-in-chief appeared alongside a presidential
lackey, doing everything possible to attract attention, both before and
during his tour of Guantanamo and Santiago de Cuba provinces.
We all saw a Raul Castro concerned for people's welfare and reviewing
Civil Defense preparations. But then he disappeared. We do not know if
he flew back to Havana or rode out the meteorological event in the
underground shelter of his home at the end of the Manduley Avenue in
Santiago's Vista Alegre district.
But there is another equally plausible reason for the General's visit to
the region and his name is Lazaro Exposito. The first secretary of the
Communist Party in Santiago de Cuba is a man of the people who uses his
position to do good. Though still a communist and considered by some to
be an opportunist who is not truly committed to reform, his leadership
is widely considered to be a success among the locals.
You might recall that in September 2008, when Hurricane Ike was lashing
Granma province with winds approaching 100 miles an hour, Lazaro both
guided and supported a population in panic. He catapulted to political
stardom on national radio (TV had gone off the air) by contradicting
then president Fidel Castro by saying, "Commandante, you are in Havana
but I am in Bayamo and here the people are afraid."
This small comment led to his being transferred to Santiago, a city that
— due to its heroic, rebellious and hospitable nature — is practically
ungovernable by anyone who is not a convivial, party-going native son.
But Exposito was able to pull it off. And he would not allow a cyclone
to be used to his advantage.
That is why Raul went to Santiago. Because, though he is very close to
retirement, Matthew was going to be his hurricane. And to achieve this,
he could not leave any loose ends untied.
Source: Raul Castro in Santiago de Cuba Because of Matthew? / Juan Juan
Almeida – Translating Cuba -
http://translatingcuba.com/raul-castro-in-santiago-de-cuba-because-of-matthew-juan-juan-almeida/
Juan Juan Almeida, 6 October 2016 — Santiago de Cuba is, as Cuba's
ruling class puts it, a big headache. Disasters and conflicts are music
to the ears of politicians. And a very destructive Hurricane Matthew
presented Raul Castro with an excellent opportunity to kill two birds
with one stone: He could correct an old mistake while reducing the
visibility of a man who has earned many people's respect.
On the morning of October 25, 2012, Hurricane Sandy passed over the
eastern edge of the island. In its wake, the Category 2 storm caused
extensive property damage, injured more than a hundred people and
resulted in eleven fatalities. People there were terrified but felt
abandoned because the nation's president did not bother to make an
appearance in the region. And this oversight brought on a whirlwind of
jokes and criticisms.
Though compelling, the stated reason for the General's recent visit was
less than convincing. No sooner had the hurricane alarm been sounded in
the east than the ringleader-in-chief appeared alongside a presidential
lackey, doing everything possible to attract attention, both before and
during his tour of Guantanamo and Santiago de Cuba provinces.
We all saw a Raul Castro concerned for people's welfare and reviewing
Civil Defense preparations. But then he disappeared. We do not know if
he flew back to Havana or rode out the meteorological event in the
underground shelter of his home at the end of the Manduley Avenue in
Santiago's Vista Alegre district.
But there is another equally plausible reason for the General's visit to
the region and his name is Lazaro Exposito. The first secretary of the
Communist Party in Santiago de Cuba is a man of the people who uses his
position to do good. Though still a communist and considered by some to
be an opportunist who is not truly committed to reform, his leadership
is widely considered to be a success among the locals.
You might recall that in September 2008, when Hurricane Ike was lashing
Granma province with winds approaching 100 miles an hour, Lazaro both
guided and supported a population in panic. He catapulted to political
stardom on national radio (TV had gone off the air) by contradicting
then president Fidel Castro by saying, "Commandante, you are in Havana
but I am in Bayamo and here the people are afraid."
This small comment led to his being transferred to Santiago, a city that
— due to its heroic, rebellious and hospitable nature — is practically
ungovernable by anyone who is not a convivial, party-going native son.
But Exposito was able to pull it off. And he would not allow a cyclone
to be used to his advantage.
That is why Raul went to Santiago. Because, though he is very close to
retirement, Matthew was going to be his hurricane. And to achieve this,
he could not leave any loose ends untied.
Source: Raul Castro in Santiago de Cuba Because of Matthew? / Juan Juan
Almeida – Translating Cuba -
http://translatingcuba.com/raul-castro-in-santiago-de-cuba-because-of-matthew-juan-juan-almeida/
Residents of hurricane-ravaged eastern Cuba say they need help
Residents of hurricane-ravaged eastern Cuba say they need help
BY MIMI WHITEFIELD
mwhitefield@miamiherald.com
Matthew's winds had scarcely subsided in eastern Cuba Wednesday when
Msgr. Wilfredo Pino Estévez, bishop of the Diocese of
Guantánamo-Baracoa, set off at 5 a.m. to see what the hurricane had
wrought on Cuba's northern coast.
Representatives of Caritas Guantánamo, a Catholic charitable
organization, accompanied him, but they could only make it about halfway
to Baracoa because of the muddy, impassable roads. The bishop continued
on in a Jeep over a mountainous road where Matthew's heavy rain had
loosened mudslides before reaching the city of about 82,000 residents.
Father José Espino, left, pastor of San Lazaro Catholic Church in
Hialeah, is a liaison for Caritas Cuba, a Catholic charitable
organization. He's shown at an Archdiocese of Miami news conference with
Father Reginald Jean-Marie, pastor of Notre Dame d'Haiti in the
background. C.M. GUERRERIO cmguerrero@elnuevoherald.com
The journey took him 16 hours — even though a trip between the city of
Guantánamo and Baracoa usually takes about two hours and 15 minutes.
What he found in Baracoa, where Matthew's eye exited Cuba early
Wednesday, was a city with ruined roads, a damaged communications
system, and neighborhoods up to three blocks away from the sea reduced
to rubble by storm surges and high winds.
The devastation along Cuba's eastern tip prompted the Catholic Church to
issue an immediate call for aid to help Cuba recover from Matthew's
onslaught.
"Right now we're trying to negotiate a point of entry for aid," Father
José Espino, of San Lazaro Church in Hialeah, said Friday at an
Archdiocese of Miami news conference. He was in touch with Pino by phone
Friday morning when the bishop returned from Baracoa. Both the airport
and port in Baracoa were damaged. The seaport at Santiago, which wasn't
damaged during the storm, is the nearest major port.
The Archdiocese of Miami is asking for money and food donations, as well
as offers to transport goods by air or sea, for hurricane victims in
both Cuba and Haiti. The most immediate needs are canned goods,
especially proteins, and rice and beans — preferably on pallets and
ready to go, Espino said.
"Crops have been affected [by Matthew], and food is critical," he said.
In Cuba's Caujerí Valley, 448,000 banana plants and eight million tomato
seedlings were damaged.
Contributions can be made through the Miami Catholic Charities website
by clicking on the "you are supporting" option and selecting Disaster
Relief-Hurricane Matthew.
The archdiocese is also asking its Miami pastors to hold a special
collection this weekend during all Masses to aid those affected by
Matthew in the Caribbean and the United States.
Mirta Kaulard, resident coordinator of the United Nations Development
Program in Cuba, said the U.N. also is coordinating with the Cuban
government to offer humanitarian aid.
On Thursday, helicopters carrying Cuban authorities and journalists
arrived in some of the towns that had been cut off by impassable roads
and downed communications systems since the hurricane passed through
Guantánamo province.
Aerial images from Maisí showed that the majority of homes had lost
their roofs, and those from Baracoa showed flooded areas, destroyed
homes and fallen trees. Entry to Baracoa is limited by mudslides along
La Farola highway, a ravaged coastline and a partially collapsed bridge
over the Toa River.
"When we saw the helicopters, it filled out hearts with joy because it
was a sign aid was arriving. We hope that they give us every
assistance," a woman in Baracoa told Cuban television.
Some residents of Maisí put up a Cuban flag amidst the rubble. They told
the Guantánamo newspaper Venceremos that they raised the flag because
they were revolutionaries and wanted authorities to know they were there
and needed help.
Despite heavy damages, so far there have been no reports of
storm-related deaths in Cuba. Hundreds of thousands of residents of
eastern Cuba were evacuated to storm shelters or sought refuge with
family and friends. The Civil Defense system even evacuated some
residents of Maisí to caves in the nearby mountains where they sought
shelter for three days.
"Thanks to this we are alive, because when we returned to our homes,
they were half full of water, and all of them, except mine, had no
roofs," Julio César Romero told a reporter from the Juventud Rebelde
newspaper.
Maisí, Imías and Baracoa remained without power and telephone service at
midday Friday. Government efforts focused on restoring fiberoptic cable
service to the communities. About 112,000 residents of Guantánamo
remained without running water.
El Nuevo Herald staff writer Nora Gámez Torres contributed to this report.
Source: Residents of hurricane-ravaged eastern Cuba say they need help |
In Cuba Today - http://www.incubatoday.com/news/article106789277.html
BY MIMI WHITEFIELD
mwhitefield@miamiherald.com
Matthew's winds had scarcely subsided in eastern Cuba Wednesday when
Msgr. Wilfredo Pino Estévez, bishop of the Diocese of
Guantánamo-Baracoa, set off at 5 a.m. to see what the hurricane had
wrought on Cuba's northern coast.
Representatives of Caritas Guantánamo, a Catholic charitable
organization, accompanied him, but they could only make it about halfway
to Baracoa because of the muddy, impassable roads. The bishop continued
on in a Jeep over a mountainous road where Matthew's heavy rain had
loosened mudslides before reaching the city of about 82,000 residents.
Father José Espino, left, pastor of San Lazaro Catholic Church in
Hialeah, is a liaison for Caritas Cuba, a Catholic charitable
organization. He's shown at an Archdiocese of Miami news conference with
Father Reginald Jean-Marie, pastor of Notre Dame d'Haiti in the
background. C.M. GUERRERIO cmguerrero@elnuevoherald.com
The journey took him 16 hours — even though a trip between the city of
Guantánamo and Baracoa usually takes about two hours and 15 minutes.
What he found in Baracoa, where Matthew's eye exited Cuba early
Wednesday, was a city with ruined roads, a damaged communications
system, and neighborhoods up to three blocks away from the sea reduced
to rubble by storm surges and high winds.
The devastation along Cuba's eastern tip prompted the Catholic Church to
issue an immediate call for aid to help Cuba recover from Matthew's
onslaught.
"Right now we're trying to negotiate a point of entry for aid," Father
José Espino, of San Lazaro Church in Hialeah, said Friday at an
Archdiocese of Miami news conference. He was in touch with Pino by phone
Friday morning when the bishop returned from Baracoa. Both the airport
and port in Baracoa were damaged. The seaport at Santiago, which wasn't
damaged during the storm, is the nearest major port.
The Archdiocese of Miami is asking for money and food donations, as well
as offers to transport goods by air or sea, for hurricane victims in
both Cuba and Haiti. The most immediate needs are canned goods,
especially proteins, and rice and beans — preferably on pallets and
ready to go, Espino said.
"Crops have been affected [by Matthew], and food is critical," he said.
In Cuba's Caujerí Valley, 448,000 banana plants and eight million tomato
seedlings were damaged.
Contributions can be made through the Miami Catholic Charities website
by clicking on the "you are supporting" option and selecting Disaster
Relief-Hurricane Matthew.
The archdiocese is also asking its Miami pastors to hold a special
collection this weekend during all Masses to aid those affected by
Matthew in the Caribbean and the United States.
Mirta Kaulard, resident coordinator of the United Nations Development
Program in Cuba, said the U.N. also is coordinating with the Cuban
government to offer humanitarian aid.
On Thursday, helicopters carrying Cuban authorities and journalists
arrived in some of the towns that had been cut off by impassable roads
and downed communications systems since the hurricane passed through
Guantánamo province.
Aerial images from Maisí showed that the majority of homes had lost
their roofs, and those from Baracoa showed flooded areas, destroyed
homes and fallen trees. Entry to Baracoa is limited by mudslides along
La Farola highway, a ravaged coastline and a partially collapsed bridge
over the Toa River.
"When we saw the helicopters, it filled out hearts with joy because it
was a sign aid was arriving. We hope that they give us every
assistance," a woman in Baracoa told Cuban television.
Some residents of Maisí put up a Cuban flag amidst the rubble. They told
the Guantánamo newspaper Venceremos that they raised the flag because
they were revolutionaries and wanted authorities to know they were there
and needed help.
Despite heavy damages, so far there have been no reports of
storm-related deaths in Cuba. Hundreds of thousands of residents of
eastern Cuba were evacuated to storm shelters or sought refuge with
family and friends. The Civil Defense system even evacuated some
residents of Maisí to caves in the nearby mountains where they sought
shelter for three days.
"Thanks to this we are alive, because when we returned to our homes,
they were half full of water, and all of them, except mine, had no
roofs," Julio César Romero told a reporter from the Juventud Rebelde
newspaper.
Maisí, Imías and Baracoa remained without power and telephone service at
midday Friday. Government efforts focused on restoring fiberoptic cable
service to the communities. About 112,000 residents of Guantánamo
remained without running water.
El Nuevo Herald staff writer Nora Gámez Torres contributed to this report.
Source: Residents of hurricane-ravaged eastern Cuba say they need help |
In Cuba Today - http://www.incubatoday.com/news/article106789277.html
Friday, October 7, 2016
WFP Cuba - Hurricane Matthew Situation Report #001
WFP Cuba - Hurricane Matthew Situation Report #001
REPORT from World Food Programme Published on 06 Oct 2016
Hurricane Matthew, category 4, hit eastern Cuba on Tuesday 04 October,
at 6:00 pm EDT.
Matthew was the most powerful hurricane in the region in over 9 years
(since Felix in 2007) and stronger than Sandy, which devastated Santiago
de Cuba in 2012.
The Government issued a recovery phase for the most affected provinces
and WFP is exploring potential support to the national emergency response.
Situation Update
The most affected provinces are Guantanamo and Holguin.
No casualties have been reported so far and about 1,079,000 people were
evacuated.
Out of these, 944,000 were relocated to houses of relatives and the
remaining nearly 135,000 people were settled in government shelters.
However, damages were significant to housing, infrastructures,
agriculture and food reserves.
Road connections and telecommunications in Guantanamo province were
severely affected from the collapse of four bridges and sea penetration.
Municipalities of Baracoa and Maisi are isolated.
Crops suffered significant damages in five municipalities of Guantanamo
province. Two of them —San Antonio del Sur and Yateras — are key in
supplying food to the entire province.
Warehouses containing food stocks were seriously affected from the
strong winds. Authorities are currently assessing the quantity of
damaged food.
Source: WFP Cuba - Hurricane Matthew Situation Report #001 - Cuba |
ReliefWeb -
http://reliefweb.int/report/cuba/wfp-cuba-hurricane-matthew-situation-report-001
REPORT from World Food Programme Published on 06 Oct 2016
Hurricane Matthew, category 4, hit eastern Cuba on Tuesday 04 October,
at 6:00 pm EDT.
Matthew was the most powerful hurricane in the region in over 9 years
(since Felix in 2007) and stronger than Sandy, which devastated Santiago
de Cuba in 2012.
The Government issued a recovery phase for the most affected provinces
and WFP is exploring potential support to the national emergency response.
Situation Update
The most affected provinces are Guantanamo and Holguin.
No casualties have been reported so far and about 1,079,000 people were
evacuated.
Out of these, 944,000 were relocated to houses of relatives and the
remaining nearly 135,000 people were settled in government shelters.
However, damages were significant to housing, infrastructures,
agriculture and food reserves.
Road connections and telecommunications in Guantanamo province were
severely affected from the collapse of four bridges and sea penetration.
Municipalities of Baracoa and Maisi are isolated.
Crops suffered significant damages in five municipalities of Guantanamo
province. Two of them —San Antonio del Sur and Yateras — are key in
supplying food to the entire province.
Warehouses containing food stocks were seriously affected from the
strong winds. Authorities are currently assessing the quantity of
damaged food.
Source: WFP Cuba - Hurricane Matthew Situation Report #001 - Cuba |
ReliefWeb -
http://reliefweb.int/report/cuba/wfp-cuba-hurricane-matthew-situation-report-001
Negligence and Violations Opened the Door to Zika in Holguin
Negligence and Violations Opened the Door to Zika in Holguin / Juan Juan
Almeida
Juan Juan Almedia, 8 September 2016 — A commission put together by
senior management from the Ministries of the Interior and of Public
Health in Cuba has released a report that enters into evidence the
origin of the entrance of the Zika virus into Holguín Province.
"Soldiers and Doctors," a paraphrase of the title of the book by Carlos
Loveira, matches a chain of avoidable oversights and violations,
committed in the service area of airport security.
"There are videos from the airport cameras showing the guys who, instead
of paying attention to the temperature scanner, left to carry luggage in
order to get tips from the passengers on international flights." An
officer tells me this unabashedly, and, on cue, he prefers to remain
anonymous.
"By doing this," he continues, "they neglected epidemiological vigilance
and Zika came into the province of Holguín. But, apparently, they
already took the measures required by the authorities of the Frank País
International Airport, and they expelled those implicated, who are at
the disposition of the competent body, because their failure to perform
their duties facilitated the propagation of this illness in the province."
My interlocutor says, "The miserable salary that the customs agents
receive and the lack of incentives for those in charge of looking after
border security was what really provoked the failure or negligence in
airport protocol, permitting someone infected to come into the Holguín
region, and the later development of new 'autonomous' cases that, as you
know, are residents in the city of Holguín who have never traveled abroad."
A doctor in the province with authority on the subject added, "Now what
is most worrisome is controlling the vector, meaning the mosquito, Aedes
Aegypti. Although they are taking precautions to identify the possible
existence of new cases and are studying the viability of taking samples
from animals and/or humans in order to develop vaccines, in addition to
coordinating health actions with various institutions and raising the
consciousness of the population with vigilance and vector control, all
these things seem to be insufficient, because we still have it here and
we know that the mosquito is changing its usual behavior."
This past February, the World Health Organization declared the Zika
virus a world health emergency.
From La Voz del Morro, by Juan Juan Almeida.
Translated by Regina Anavy
Source: Negligence and Violations Opened the Door to Zika in Holguin /
Juan Juan Almeida – Translating Cuba -
http://translatingcuba.com/negligence-and-violations-opened-the-door-to-zika-in-holgun-juan-juan-almeida/
Almeida
Juan Juan Almedia, 8 September 2016 — A commission put together by
senior management from the Ministries of the Interior and of Public
Health in Cuba has released a report that enters into evidence the
origin of the entrance of the Zika virus into Holguín Province.
"Soldiers and Doctors," a paraphrase of the title of the book by Carlos
Loveira, matches a chain of avoidable oversights and violations,
committed in the service area of airport security.
"There are videos from the airport cameras showing the guys who, instead
of paying attention to the temperature scanner, left to carry luggage in
order to get tips from the passengers on international flights." An
officer tells me this unabashedly, and, on cue, he prefers to remain
anonymous.
"By doing this," he continues, "they neglected epidemiological vigilance
and Zika came into the province of Holguín. But, apparently, they
already took the measures required by the authorities of the Frank País
International Airport, and they expelled those implicated, who are at
the disposition of the competent body, because their failure to perform
their duties facilitated the propagation of this illness in the province."
My interlocutor says, "The miserable salary that the customs agents
receive and the lack of incentives for those in charge of looking after
border security was what really provoked the failure or negligence in
airport protocol, permitting someone infected to come into the Holguín
region, and the later development of new 'autonomous' cases that, as you
know, are residents in the city of Holguín who have never traveled abroad."
A doctor in the province with authority on the subject added, "Now what
is most worrisome is controlling the vector, meaning the mosquito, Aedes
Aegypti. Although they are taking precautions to identify the possible
existence of new cases and are studying the viability of taking samples
from animals and/or humans in order to develop vaccines, in addition to
coordinating health actions with various institutions and raising the
consciousness of the population with vigilance and vector control, all
these things seem to be insufficient, because we still have it here and
we know that the mosquito is changing its usual behavior."
This past February, the World Health Organization declared the Zika
virus a world health emergency.
From La Voz del Morro, by Juan Juan Almeida.
Translated by Regina Anavy
Source: Negligence and Violations Opened the Door to Zika in Holguin /
Juan Juan Almeida – Translating Cuba -
http://translatingcuba.com/negligence-and-violations-opened-the-door-to-zika-in-holgun-juan-juan-almeida/
In Spite of Hurricanes, Easterners Manage to Survive
In Spite of Hurricanes, Easterners Manage to Survive / Iván García
Ivan Garcia, 5 October 2016 — Right now, it's easier to get to Miami
than to Santiago de Cuba. To visit the second largest city on the
Island, there are two daily flights that are rarely on time; you have to
take a train for around 20 hours, or buy a bus ticket, a whole adventure
where you get a mix of satire, drama, and, of course, the chance to pay
five or ten convertible pesos under the table as a bribe.
If anyone knows hardship, it's the Cubans who live in the eastern
regions. Living far away from the coasts of Florida, diplomatic
headquarters and media focal points, their first step toward migration
is to escape to Havana.
Havana is a city where, to their misfortune, the Cuban Adjustment Act
doesn't exist. Long before Donald Trump tried to enter the White House,
with his primitive isolationism and huge stupidity, Fidel Castro
advanced a project to build a legal wall: Decree 217, or the Law of
Internal Migratory Regulations, which, since April 22, 1997, restricts
those born in the east of the Island from living in the capital, which
supposedly belongs to all Cubans.
The worst things in Cuba happen to easterners. Regulations, laws to put
the brakes on their internal migration, being exposed to earthquakes,
drought, and, in 2012 to Hurricane Sandy, and now, with the imminent
arrival of Hurricane Matthew, they suffer more devastation caused by
natural phenomena than the central and western provinces.
Their sing-song accents, extended mania for throwing down rum and for
living in subhuman conditions, are the stuff of jokes with racist and
xenophobic overtones made by habaneros, residents of Havana, who call
them palestinos, Palestinians.
If you visit any of a hundred illegal slums set up in the darkness of
night and constructed with recyclable materials in different districts
of Havana, you will see that most of the residents are orientales,
easterners, who are fleeing from poverty in search of better salaries.
Néstor is one of them. For seven years he has lived in a hut made of
poorly arranged bricks with a tile roof, in a foul-smelling and dingy
field that is a stone's throw from the landfill of Calle 100, in
Havana's Marianao district.
He lives from garbage. He earns money by collecting raw material that
has apparently ended its useful life, like shoes, electric appliances
and sports watches, which, after a process of repair, are sold at low
prices in the traveling stalls that are set up in Havana.
"The eastern part of Cuba is at death's door. There's no money or food.
I worked as a custodian in a school and earned 225 Cuban pesos a month —
around eight dollars — and when I went to a shop to buy a pair of shoes,
the price was from 500 to 600 pesos. Havana is dirty, many houses are
held up by a miracle, but you can find money there," says Néstor.
Luis, a santiaguero, resident of Santiago de Cuba, living for 10 years
in Santos Suárez, a neighborhood south of the capital, sells tamales.
While driving his tricycle-trailer, he hawks his hot tamales as soon as
they're made.
"Not even in the distant past was nature in favor of santiagueros.
Earthquakes, drought, and now we're also threatened by this powerful
hurricane. There people are butting their heads against the wall trying
to invent money. Recreation is dancing reggaeton and drinking homemade
rum. Things in Cuba are bad, but in the east everything is much worse,"
points out Luis.
With the arrival of Hurricane Matthew, thousands of easterners who are
settled in Havana worry about the future of their relatives. "Every
evening I call my mother and brothers, and I pray that the hurricane
won't carry away their little house. We are from San Pedrito — a
neighborhood in Santiago de Cuba — and we have more trouble than a slave
working under the sun. It's pitiful. As soon as they get up, people
start drinking alcohol and gossiping about the neighbors," says Lucila,
a worker in an agro-market in El Cerro.
The disgust of many people from Havana toward easterners is provoked a
little by the myth and by the rude behavior toward the citizens by the
police, composed mainly by natives of those regions*.
"Easterners are known for being informers, bums, and alcoholics. It's
all the same to me if the hurricane goes through Oriente, and if it
does, the orientales can piss off," sneers Octavio, a habanero who kills
time by talking nonsense on street corners.
Carlos, a sociologist, considers that many people have a real problem
with Cubans born in the east. "What bothers habaneros the most is the
terrible treatment by the police – their lack of culture, bad manners
and inferiority complex. Probably they're not pleased that most of the
State officials, headed by Fidel and Raúl, come from the eastern
provinces. There is the false belief that cheap whores and hustlers
arrive by train from the east to create more problems in the capital.
The State, with Decree-Law 217, opened the door to xenophobic feelings
that have always existed below the surface in a segment of the
population born in Havana. I don't think it's a serious problem. But
more attention should be paid to the frankly pejorative attitude towards
easterners," indicates the sociologist.
Like any group of Cubans, Havana is only the first step for the
easterners. The next trip, if they get enough money or are claimed by
their relatives on the other side of the pond, is to land in Miami.
Iván García
Hispanopost, October 3, 2016.
*Translator's note: Easterners are recruited to be police officers in
Havana with the incentive not only of a steady job but also of the
nearly-impossible-to-obtain permit to live in the capital city.
Translated by Regina Anavy
Source: In Spite of Hurricanes, Easterners Manage to Survive / Iván
García – Translating Cuba -
http://translatingcuba.com/in-spite-of-hurricanes-easterners-manage-to-survive-ivn-garca/
Ivan Garcia, 5 October 2016 — Right now, it's easier to get to Miami
than to Santiago de Cuba. To visit the second largest city on the
Island, there are two daily flights that are rarely on time; you have to
take a train for around 20 hours, or buy a bus ticket, a whole adventure
where you get a mix of satire, drama, and, of course, the chance to pay
five or ten convertible pesos under the table as a bribe.
If anyone knows hardship, it's the Cubans who live in the eastern
regions. Living far away from the coasts of Florida, diplomatic
headquarters and media focal points, their first step toward migration
is to escape to Havana.
Havana is a city where, to their misfortune, the Cuban Adjustment Act
doesn't exist. Long before Donald Trump tried to enter the White House,
with his primitive isolationism and huge stupidity, Fidel Castro
advanced a project to build a legal wall: Decree 217, or the Law of
Internal Migratory Regulations, which, since April 22, 1997, restricts
those born in the east of the Island from living in the capital, which
supposedly belongs to all Cubans.
The worst things in Cuba happen to easterners. Regulations, laws to put
the brakes on their internal migration, being exposed to earthquakes,
drought, and, in 2012 to Hurricane Sandy, and now, with the imminent
arrival of Hurricane Matthew, they suffer more devastation caused by
natural phenomena than the central and western provinces.
Their sing-song accents, extended mania for throwing down rum and for
living in subhuman conditions, are the stuff of jokes with racist and
xenophobic overtones made by habaneros, residents of Havana, who call
them palestinos, Palestinians.
If you visit any of a hundred illegal slums set up in the darkness of
night and constructed with recyclable materials in different districts
of Havana, you will see that most of the residents are orientales,
easterners, who are fleeing from poverty in search of better salaries.
Néstor is one of them. For seven years he has lived in a hut made of
poorly arranged bricks with a tile roof, in a foul-smelling and dingy
field that is a stone's throw from the landfill of Calle 100, in
Havana's Marianao district.
He lives from garbage. He earns money by collecting raw material that
has apparently ended its useful life, like shoes, electric appliances
and sports watches, which, after a process of repair, are sold at low
prices in the traveling stalls that are set up in Havana.
"The eastern part of Cuba is at death's door. There's no money or food.
I worked as a custodian in a school and earned 225 Cuban pesos a month —
around eight dollars — and when I went to a shop to buy a pair of shoes,
the price was from 500 to 600 pesos. Havana is dirty, many houses are
held up by a miracle, but you can find money there," says Néstor.
Luis, a santiaguero, resident of Santiago de Cuba, living for 10 years
in Santos Suárez, a neighborhood south of the capital, sells tamales.
While driving his tricycle-trailer, he hawks his hot tamales as soon as
they're made.
"Not even in the distant past was nature in favor of santiagueros.
Earthquakes, drought, and now we're also threatened by this powerful
hurricane. There people are butting their heads against the wall trying
to invent money. Recreation is dancing reggaeton and drinking homemade
rum. Things in Cuba are bad, but in the east everything is much worse,"
points out Luis.
With the arrival of Hurricane Matthew, thousands of easterners who are
settled in Havana worry about the future of their relatives. "Every
evening I call my mother and brothers, and I pray that the hurricane
won't carry away their little house. We are from San Pedrito — a
neighborhood in Santiago de Cuba — and we have more trouble than a slave
working under the sun. It's pitiful. As soon as they get up, people
start drinking alcohol and gossiping about the neighbors," says Lucila,
a worker in an agro-market in El Cerro.
The disgust of many people from Havana toward easterners is provoked a
little by the myth and by the rude behavior toward the citizens by the
police, composed mainly by natives of those regions*.
"Easterners are known for being informers, bums, and alcoholics. It's
all the same to me if the hurricane goes through Oriente, and if it
does, the orientales can piss off," sneers Octavio, a habanero who kills
time by talking nonsense on street corners.
Carlos, a sociologist, considers that many people have a real problem
with Cubans born in the east. "What bothers habaneros the most is the
terrible treatment by the police – their lack of culture, bad manners
and inferiority complex. Probably they're not pleased that most of the
State officials, headed by Fidel and Raúl, come from the eastern
provinces. There is the false belief that cheap whores and hustlers
arrive by train from the east to create more problems in the capital.
The State, with Decree-Law 217, opened the door to xenophobic feelings
that have always existed below the surface in a segment of the
population born in Havana. I don't think it's a serious problem. But
more attention should be paid to the frankly pejorative attitude towards
easterners," indicates the sociologist.
Like any group of Cubans, Havana is only the first step for the
easterners. The next trip, if they get enough money or are claimed by
their relatives on the other side of the pond, is to land in Miami.
Iván García
Hispanopost, October 3, 2016.
*Translator's note: Easterners are recruited to be police officers in
Havana with the incentive not only of a steady job but also of the
nearly-impossible-to-obtain permit to live in the capital city.
Translated by Regina Anavy
Source: In Spite of Hurricanes, Easterners Manage to Survive / Iván
García – Translating Cuba -
http://translatingcuba.com/in-spite-of-hurricanes-easterners-manage-to-survive-ivn-garca/
Cuban Human Rights Group - 570 Arbitrary Arrests in September
Cuban Human Rights Group: 570 Arbitrary Arrests in September / 14ymedio
14ymedio, 5 October 2016 — The Cuban Commission for Human Rights and
National Reconciliation (CCDHRN) reported Wednesday that, during the
month of September, there were at least 570 arbitrary arrests for
political reasons, more than the 517 similar arrests of the previous month.
The monthly report of the independent organization, headed by activist
Elizardo Sanchez, places special emphasis on the police assault suffered
by "the independent law firm Cubalex, an office that has provided free
legal assistance to countless people in need of legal protection." Julio
Alfredo Ferrer, one of the workers of the center, remained in a high
security prison at the time the report was written.
The text also recalls that the Ladies in White continue to be the group
most affected by this type of repression, as systematically reflected in
reports of recent years.
Two vice president of the Cuban Commission for Human Rights and National
Reconciliation have been affected by the arbitrariness of State
Security, as denounced by the center. Arturo Guillen Acosta was
prevented from traveling to an international conference on human rights
in South Africa, and documentation brought from a conference in
Medellin, Colombia by Juan del Pilar Goberna was photocopied in the José
Martí International Airport in Havana.
Source: Cuban Human Rights Group: 570 Arbitrary Arrests in September /
14ymedio – Translating Cuba -
http://translatingcuba.com/cuban-human-rights-group-570-arbitrary-arrests-in-september-14ymedio/
14ymedio, 5 October 2016 — The Cuban Commission for Human Rights and
National Reconciliation (CCDHRN) reported Wednesday that, during the
month of September, there were at least 570 arbitrary arrests for
political reasons, more than the 517 similar arrests of the previous month.
The monthly report of the independent organization, headed by activist
Elizardo Sanchez, places special emphasis on the police assault suffered
by "the independent law firm Cubalex, an office that has provided free
legal assistance to countless people in need of legal protection." Julio
Alfredo Ferrer, one of the workers of the center, remained in a high
security prison at the time the report was written.
The text also recalls that the Ladies in White continue to be the group
most affected by this type of repression, as systematically reflected in
reports of recent years.
Two vice president of the Cuban Commission for Human Rights and National
Reconciliation have been affected by the arbitrariness of State
Security, as denounced by the center. Arturo Guillen Acosta was
prevented from traveling to an international conference on human rights
in South Africa, and documentation brought from a conference in
Medellin, Colombia by Juan del Pilar Goberna was photocopied in the José
Martí International Airport in Havana.
Source: Cuban Human Rights Group: 570 Arbitrary Arrests in September /
14ymedio – Translating Cuba -
http://translatingcuba.com/cuban-human-rights-group-570-arbitrary-arrests-in-september-14ymedio/
Baracoa, The Face Of Disaster
Baracoa, The Face Of Disaster / 14ymedio, Yunier Reyes
14ymedio, Yunier Reyes, 6 October 2016 — Baracoa has taken a
pounding. Everywhere you look roofs have blown off and the residents are
trying to save any pieces of their homes that can be reused. They walk
over the mounds of bricks, climb over the bits of stairs that no longer
lead anywhere, and salvage the window frames that were once set into
walls. The city looks like a ruin, but the growing roar of survival
persists.
Hurricane Matthew has already traveled far from Cuba's eastern tip,
although the passage of this unwanted visitor will linger for years in
the memories of Baracoans. "I'm looking for the photo of my grandfather
that was in the living room," says Cira, 58, a resident who on Tuesday
collected the little she had and went to the house of some relatives who
had a "sturdy roof" to face the strong winds.
The woman has now returned to the place where her home was, to find
barely the outline of the foundations. "My room was here," she says, and
two steps further on, under a mountain of debris the pure white toilet
peaks out. She lost everything: her television, mattress, coffeemaker, a
mahogany table she inherited from her mother and the portrait of her
grandfather that she used to put "flowers in front of every day."
Cira's story is not the most serious. In Baracoa everyone has been
touched by the misfortune. Luisito, age 8, can't find his dog, which he
called for all Wednesday afternoon before returning to the house of some
cousins where his family took shelter; by the end of the day he hadn't
seen the dog's tail nor its white back anywhere. "I'm sure he hid, he's
very smart," his mother said to comfort him.
No deaths have been reported in the wake of the devastating hurricane,
but the city looks like a corpse. The firefighters and military brigades
that are arriving advise the residents to stay away from the
wreckage and be careful around shards of metal and the broken boards and
glass all over the ground. But few heed them.
They are in a battle against the clock. They want to retrieve all the
materials they can for the partial or total reconstruction of their
homes. They fear that when the area is militarized they'll be moved far
from their homes and will be unable to continue salvaging their personal
belongings that remain dispersed along the ground.
People console themselves knowing that the situation is even more
serious in other parts of Guantanamo province, which no one has been
able to get to yet. The road to Maisi is blocked by trees and chunks of
asphalt torn out of the higheway. Hardly anything is known about what
happened to "the crocodile's snout" – the easternmost point of the island.
The rivers are still swollen and in the area of San Antonio del Sur the
roads are torn up and the lines in front of the bakery are growing. The
more farsighted, who managed to buy some food before the beginning of
the first gusts of Matthew, declare they have nothing left. "There isn't
much to eat," complained a woman near the state store, one of the few in
the whole town with an electric generator.
On the outskirts of Baracoa the air is filled with the buzz of chainsaws
from a technical military brigade, intent on trying to break through to
the villages that have been cut off. The phone lines are cut and
cellphones can't be recharged because of the lack of electricity.
Nobody knows anything about what happened to the residents of Purialess,
a small town in the area. There is no communication by landlines or
cellphones and radio and television signals don't reach them. The huge
repeater antenna of Radiocuba is deaf and mute, having falling on a roof.
One of the worst scenarios is in the section between Bagá and the area
known as La Curva del Sapo – the curve of the toad. Electricity pylons
have collapsed and the ground is covered with a carpet of banana plants
that did not withstand the winds. The tomato fields are damaged and
concern about a food shortage is widespread.
The greatest drama falls on those who have completely lost their homes.
This Wednesday night some didn't want to move from the place where they
once loved, slept and cooked. The walls and the roof are gone, but "this
is my home," says Cira, flashlight in hand, as she continues to
search for the photo of her grandfather.
Source: Baracoa, The Face Of Disaster / 14ymedio, Yunier Reyes –
Translating Cuba -
http://translatingcuba.com/baracoa-the-face-of-disaster-14ymedio-yunier-reyes/
14ymedio, Yunier Reyes, 6 October 2016 — Baracoa has taken a
pounding. Everywhere you look roofs have blown off and the residents are
trying to save any pieces of their homes that can be reused. They walk
over the mounds of bricks, climb over the bits of stairs that no longer
lead anywhere, and salvage the window frames that were once set into
walls. The city looks like a ruin, but the growing roar of survival
persists.
Hurricane Matthew has already traveled far from Cuba's eastern tip,
although the passage of this unwanted visitor will linger for years in
the memories of Baracoans. "I'm looking for the photo of my grandfather
that was in the living room," says Cira, 58, a resident who on Tuesday
collected the little she had and went to the house of some relatives who
had a "sturdy roof" to face the strong winds.
The woman has now returned to the place where her home was, to find
barely the outline of the foundations. "My room was here," she says, and
two steps further on, under a mountain of debris the pure white toilet
peaks out. She lost everything: her television, mattress, coffeemaker, a
mahogany table she inherited from her mother and the portrait of her
grandfather that she used to put "flowers in front of every day."
Cira's story is not the most serious. In Baracoa everyone has been
touched by the misfortune. Luisito, age 8, can't find his dog, which he
called for all Wednesday afternoon before returning to the house of some
cousins where his family took shelter; by the end of the day he hadn't
seen the dog's tail nor its white back anywhere. "I'm sure he hid, he's
very smart," his mother said to comfort him.
No deaths have been reported in the wake of the devastating hurricane,
but the city looks like a corpse. The firefighters and military brigades
that are arriving advise the residents to stay away from the
wreckage and be careful around shards of metal and the broken boards and
glass all over the ground. But few heed them.
They are in a battle against the clock. They want to retrieve all the
materials they can for the partial or total reconstruction of their
homes. They fear that when the area is militarized they'll be moved far
from their homes and will be unable to continue salvaging their personal
belongings that remain dispersed along the ground.
People console themselves knowing that the situation is even more
serious in other parts of Guantanamo province, which no one has been
able to get to yet. The road to Maisi is blocked by trees and chunks of
asphalt torn out of the higheway. Hardly anything is known about what
happened to "the crocodile's snout" – the easternmost point of the island.
The rivers are still swollen and in the area of San Antonio del Sur the
roads are torn up and the lines in front of the bakery are growing. The
more farsighted, who managed to buy some food before the beginning of
the first gusts of Matthew, declare they have nothing left. "There isn't
much to eat," complained a woman near the state store, one of the few in
the whole town with an electric generator.
On the outskirts of Baracoa the air is filled with the buzz of chainsaws
from a technical military brigade, intent on trying to break through to
the villages that have been cut off. The phone lines are cut and
cellphones can't be recharged because of the lack of electricity.
Nobody knows anything about what happened to the residents of Purialess,
a small town in the area. There is no communication by landlines or
cellphones and radio and television signals don't reach them. The huge
repeater antenna of Radiocuba is deaf and mute, having falling on a roof.
One of the worst scenarios is in the section between Bagá and the area
known as La Curva del Sapo – the curve of the toad. Electricity pylons
have collapsed and the ground is covered with a carpet of banana plants
that did not withstand the winds. The tomato fields are damaged and
concern about a food shortage is widespread.
The greatest drama falls on those who have completely lost their homes.
This Wednesday night some didn't want to move from the place where they
once loved, slept and cooked. The walls and the roof are gone, but "this
is my home," says Cira, flashlight in hand, as she continues to
search for the photo of her grandfather.
Source: Baracoa, The Face Of Disaster / 14ymedio, Yunier Reyes –
Translating Cuba -
http://translatingcuba.com/baracoa-the-face-of-disaster-14ymedio-yunier-reyes/
Your house or your life - Stark choices as Matthew hit Cuba
Your house or your life: Stark choices as Matthew hit Cuba
October 6, 2016
Guantanamo (Cuba) (AFP) - Cuban fisherman Heneydis Suarez probably saved
his and his family's lives by seeking shelter in a neighbor's house as
Hurricane Matthew pummeled the island Tuesday.
But that does not make it any easier to contemplate the empty plot that
used to be his own home, a small house of boards and thatch that was
ripped apart by the wind.
"We came back to find this wreck. It's terrible," said the 41-year-old
fisherman, who lives in Carbonera, a small fishing village near the
eastern tip of Cuba that found itself in the path of the Category Four
storm.
Cubans are used to hurricanes, and people with solidly built houses
often welcome their less fortunate neighbors to shelter with them in a
storm.
Suarez, his wife and their two children decided to do just that as
Matthew arrived after pummeling Haiti and the Dominican Republic with
death and destruction.
But like many of his neighbors, he returned home to find almost nothing
left.
"It's difficult," he said.
"We're poor families. We don't have the means to get by. And now we
don't even have water or food."
He gathered together what remained to take with him to his brother's
house: two rickety fans, a box of clothes, some shoes and a few
soaking-wet toys.
- Picking through ruins -
So far Cuba has not registered any casualties from the storm.
But it is only just beginning to tally the damages.
The historic town of Baracoa, the first Spanish settlement on the
island, was reduced to "debris and remains," resident Quirenia Perez
told AFP.
Images from the town show dejected residents picking through the ruins.
The town is one of four that have been cut off from the rest of the
communist island by large rocks hurled onto the roads by the hurricane.
Few fishermen in Suarez's village were in the mood to talk as they
surveyed the damage left by the storm.
One lucky man who only lost his roof worked to patch together what was
left of it.
Others, like Suarez, gathered up what possessions remained and began
heading toward the homes of relatives, carrying their belongings on
bicycles or their backs.
Asisley Perez, 31, was headed in the other direction. She and several
neighbors were riding on an oxcart to see what had become of their homes.
"Some of us know what to expect, others are going to find out what
happened to our houses when we arrive. But in the end what matters is
that we're alive," she said.
Yudier Borges, the cart's 22-year-old driver, described the destruction
they had seen along the way.
"Some houses lost their roofs. But I don't think there's any damage that
can't be fixed with hard work -- which is what we do here from the day
we're born," he said.
Source: Your house or your life: Stark choices as Matthew hit Cuba -
https://www.yahoo.com/news/house-life-stark-choices-matthew-hit-cuba-171433638.html
October 6, 2016
Guantanamo (Cuba) (AFP) - Cuban fisherman Heneydis Suarez probably saved
his and his family's lives by seeking shelter in a neighbor's house as
Hurricane Matthew pummeled the island Tuesday.
But that does not make it any easier to contemplate the empty plot that
used to be his own home, a small house of boards and thatch that was
ripped apart by the wind.
"We came back to find this wreck. It's terrible," said the 41-year-old
fisherman, who lives in Carbonera, a small fishing village near the
eastern tip of Cuba that found itself in the path of the Category Four
storm.
Cubans are used to hurricanes, and people with solidly built houses
often welcome their less fortunate neighbors to shelter with them in a
storm.
Suarez, his wife and their two children decided to do just that as
Matthew arrived after pummeling Haiti and the Dominican Republic with
death and destruction.
But like many of his neighbors, he returned home to find almost nothing
left.
"It's difficult," he said.
"We're poor families. We don't have the means to get by. And now we
don't even have water or food."
He gathered together what remained to take with him to his brother's
house: two rickety fans, a box of clothes, some shoes and a few
soaking-wet toys.
- Picking through ruins -
So far Cuba has not registered any casualties from the storm.
But it is only just beginning to tally the damages.
The historic town of Baracoa, the first Spanish settlement on the
island, was reduced to "debris and remains," resident Quirenia Perez
told AFP.
Images from the town show dejected residents picking through the ruins.
The town is one of four that have been cut off from the rest of the
communist island by large rocks hurled onto the roads by the hurricane.
Few fishermen in Suarez's village were in the mood to talk as they
surveyed the damage left by the storm.
One lucky man who only lost his roof worked to patch together what was
left of it.
Others, like Suarez, gathered up what possessions remained and began
heading toward the homes of relatives, carrying their belongings on
bicycles or their backs.
Asisley Perez, 31, was headed in the other direction. She and several
neighbors were riding on an oxcart to see what had become of their homes.
"Some of us know what to expect, others are going to find out what
happened to our houses when we arrive. But in the end what matters is
that we're alive," she said.
Yudier Borges, the cart's 22-year-old driver, described the destruction
they had seen along the way.
"Some houses lost their roofs. But I don't think there's any damage that
can't be fixed with hard work -- which is what we do here from the day
we're born," he said.
Source: Your house or your life: Stark choices as Matthew hit Cuba -
https://www.yahoo.com/news/house-life-stark-choices-matthew-hit-cuba-171433638.html
Russian military considers return to Cuba, Vietnam
Russian military considers return to Cuba, Vietnam
October 7, 2016
MOSCOW (AP) — The Russian military says it's considering the possibility
of regaining its Soviet-era bases on Cuba and in Vietnam, a statement
that comes amid growing U.S.-Russia tensions over Syria.
Deputy Defense Minister Nikolai Pankov told lawmakers Friday that the
ministry is considering the possibility of establishing footholds far
away from Russia's borders.
In response to a lawmaker's question if the military could return to
Cuba and Vietnam, Pankov said the military is "reviewing" a decision to
withdraw from them, but didn't offer any specifics.
In 2001, Russian President Vladimir Putin ordered the military to pull
back from Cuba and Vietnam as he sought to bolster ties with the United
States. The U.S.-Russian relations now have plunged to the lowest point
since the Cold War times amid strain over Syria and Ukraine.
Source: Russian military considers return to Cuba, Vietnam -
https://www.yahoo.com/news/russian-military-considers-return-cuba-vietnam-111541619.html
October 7, 2016
MOSCOW (AP) — The Russian military says it's considering the possibility
of regaining its Soviet-era bases on Cuba and in Vietnam, a statement
that comes amid growing U.S.-Russia tensions over Syria.
Deputy Defense Minister Nikolai Pankov told lawmakers Friday that the
ministry is considering the possibility of establishing footholds far
away from Russia's borders.
In response to a lawmaker's question if the military could return to
Cuba and Vietnam, Pankov said the military is "reviewing" a decision to
withdraw from them, but didn't offer any specifics.
In 2001, Russian President Vladimir Putin ordered the military to pull
back from Cuba and Vietnam as he sought to bolster ties with the United
States. The U.S.-Russian relations now have plunged to the lowest point
since the Cold War times amid strain over Syria and Ukraine.
Source: Russian military considers return to Cuba, Vietnam -
https://www.yahoo.com/news/russian-military-considers-return-cuba-vietnam-111541619.html
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
