Cuba cannot give their own what they need, and there they appear then, in the eyes of God and of all Cubans, an oasis of diseases that calm hunger.
Havana.- I still remember some of those “songs” that the communists insisted on privilege, pretending that some of those pieces become very popular, that they became part of what, surely, they began to call, since then, as “the soundtrack of the revolution.” The “revolution” believed them, had to have a lyrical, and from that effort those third musical pieces that had to place communism at the top of the firmament had to place.
And the communists forgot about a reality that was constant, without variations. The communists offered us a postcard that did not pass from the most out of the rhetoric and forgot reality, put aside the true scenarios, those that we can see just by look at the door or after taking a brief walk in the neighborhood. Communism claimed Loas all the time and put “in pause”, removed visibility to the most common scenarios, those we exhibit in each of the corners of the city, those in which the most resounding reality and misery becomes more true.
And there are the images. There is the carelessness dedicated by the government to those who do not govern anything. The communists are sung, and suggest very high, and also very clear, exposing a reality that little taxes to that rhetoric with which every day they intend to wrap us. There is that woman who cannot live with how little the ration card offers. There is that woman and also her hunger, and little cares how insane it is to put her hands in the rot that the tank exhibits.
What can you find there? Did some of those things that might be benefits at the time of lunch or food from a habanera family, of that family that after tiredness puts the detritus in a garbage collector, all the rot of the day. And that is what he finds, what many people in this city, anywhere in this hungry country.
And that is what many people find in the morning and in the afternoon. And there are few who are attentive, especially in those hours when the neighbors usually throw everything that the high temperatures harassed and led to the most disgusting rot. There are those who are very attentive to those hours when the neighbors usually throw what the heat did not resist and especially the longest blackouts that this country whispered by a heat that already becomes insufferable, devastating.
Cuba, that of The ration bookthat of the infinite escasece, cannot give their own what they need, and there they appear then, in the eyes of God and of all Cubans, an oasis of diseases that calms the hunger that encourages sleep, and more than all death. That woman who is rummaging in the detritus, is a Cuban woman, a desperate, hungry woman, even if they say crazy and shout dirty, even if she takes a little more in her pot, for later, perhaps for kind death.
