By Eduardo Cordovi N. Hernandez
HAVANA TIMES – In attempting to give a historical account of the situations, circumstances and experiences that make up social life in my neighborhood – the place I’ve always lived – I realize I’ve had to witness the nearly definitive departure – unrelated to death – of a huge number of relatives, neighbors, workmates and friends.
We always want to classify everything. To group things together, in order to understand them better. It’s a way of ordering the world, to try and comprehend it a little.
Right now, I was about to say with complete certainty “In Cuba,” and talk about my whole country. However, although I still feel very certain about the general occurrence of events, I discover that I really can’t back up such a reference, since I’ve lived in Havana for my whole life. It’s true I did my military service in Cabañas, Pinar del Rio; and in order to be discharged from military life, they sent me to cut sugar cane in Colon, Matanzas province, but basically, I’ve always lived in Havana. Hence, I’m going to speak only about the experiences I can completely substantiate.
In Havana, you separate the people you know into two bands: “those who are here,” and “those who left.” Or, better yet, “those who are here,” and “those who are going to leave.” And everyone then flavors that last concept however they can, because it includes nearly everyone. Every person includes in it as many as they want, according to what they can b
