Text & Photos by Nestor Nuñez (Joven Cuba)
HAVANA TIMES – An idea just struck me: I’m going to tell you about the most important things that have happened to me today. Picture me: sitting here on the sofa, sweating in the darkness, because after five hours without electricity, the rechargeable lamp has lost its charge. When I take a drag on my cigarette, a terrible taste fills my mouth. I had to ignite the lighter to see what the heck I was smoking. Nothing terrible – it turned out that I had lit the wrong end. I burst out laughing all by myself, thinking that’s how everything is here – backwards. That the situation is unsmokeable. In one fell swoop, I tossed out the cigarettes and brushed my teeth, although a persistent taste of cockroaches still persists in my throat.
Apart from that, nothing is new. I imagine you know all about the blackouts. I know you don’t have time for Facebook, but almost surely someone already told you about them on WhatsApp. They’re just the same as those you went through when you were here. Or maybe not. Do you remember that time that someone dared to bang their pots, and another turned up the volume and blasted that song: “I feel a drumbeat – baby are you calling me”?… Do you remember that hopeful sense of expectation, as we waited for other pots to sound in the neighborhood? Well, not even this is happening anymore.
Even the illusion of protest no longer exists. That illusion melted with the May heat, not to mention the years in prison under the tremendous sentences meted out to [the protestors] of July 11, 2021, and to those who livestreamed the demonstrations in Nuevitas. They have all of us ever more careful and afraid. What people want is for their parole to arrive [humanitarian parole allowing them to emigrate to the US] and not to get into trouble meanwhile. Other people want only to live a decent and upright life, whatever that means for each one. But that’s not what we have, I assure you. Anyhow, you already experienced all this. It’s just more of the same.
Sorry – I didn’t mean to bother you with this type of thing. Between learning the language, holding down two jobs to pay the rent and the bills, plus trying to enjoy and find sense in being all alone in that country – how do you see what’s happening over on this side? Is it better for you to forget about everything, or does that sensation of pain never go away? More than pain – is it rage you feel? Pity for this beautiful island? Nostalgia?
Forgive me, you don’t have to answer me. It’s that I can’t stop asking questions. I have so many questions in my head, and almost no answers. It’s like living in limbo, in the clouds, with no certainties. The firmest conviction that I have right now is that things here aren’t moving forward, much less towards somewhere good. Anyway, I’m going to change the subject, because I feel a kind of shame at complaining without doing anything to change things.
Let’s see – what else can I tell you? Ah, last week I spent five days in Havana, for a job I got over there. I stayed in El Vedado, in that little room of those old friends, on that mattress on the floor – you know. They’re still cooking the best food. It’s their moment of love, of surrender, of absolute pleasure. It’s not just “fill your stomach and done”. Even looking at the empty plates is a tremendous joy. That’s how every day is for them, whether they have visitors or not. I admire them for that.
One of those nights, we hit the vodka bottle, sitting on a bench on G street, and talking about nothing. Literally, hahaha. Instead of a minute of silence, we spent two hours that way, each of us sunk in their own thoughts. I was thinking about a kid who came up to me in front of one of those new, super expensive ice cream parlors, but not to ask me for money as I thought, but to sell me some Yugioh cards. Seventy pesos a card, I think, or six hundred the pack. I told him to find me one that would bring me luck, and he gave me this one that says “Frightful bear”. I haven’t the faintest idea what spell or magic it invokes, but I have it here in my wallet like a talisman, next to that two-dollar bill – remember? The vodka turned my mind to thinking about when we kids played with those cards. What year was th
