The Humble I had not yet been born in April 1961, when the socialist character of the Cuban process was declared. "This is the socialist revolutio...

On August 12, 2004, I presented myself to Cuban provincial immigration to announce, "I am me, even though I do not have the documents to prove it, and I have come to stay."

This young man, not yet forty, sniffs out any restriction that creates a niche market. Respecting the penal code and survival are contradictory actions, he is a king in the country of the forbidden.

A political process of the magnitude of a socialist revolution should aspire, for its fiftieth anniversary, to more ambitious results and more pompous parties, but there is not much to give.

The golden advertisements that show a Cuba of mulattas, rum, music and dancing will not be able to hide the panorama of collapsing buildings, frustration and inertia. .

I don't know if it's my pale skin, but my passport is just as blue and Cuban as the one he has. If not for his false impression that I'm a foreigner, he'd never come close to me.

Faced with the promises of a future that never takes shape, I lean toward the prospects that begin today, toward the dreams that materialize on this day.

The Optimists In mid-2007, Julito assured me that before August pork would be sold at ten pesos a pound, the daily salary of the average worker. N...

There is nothing more paralyzing than a woman's calf flashing in the sun in the middle of the street.

Lokomotiv He started with a pick and shovel, planting the heavy crossbeams that support the train lines. His father had also been a railroad worke...