In 1994 I spent many hours sitting on the wall of the Malecon. He preferred the area between the Gervasio and Escobar streets, which I called "my dirty piece of sea." That was a border between the abyss and the abyss. On one side, the rocks and the waves, on the other, a sequence of ruined houses and starving figures looking out over their balconies. Still, this place allows me to escape the day-to-day strangulation of the 'special period.' If my stomach burned from emptiness, there was still the hope of finding someone hawking -- in a whisper -- pizzas or paper cones of peanuts. When the power cuts made it impossible to be in my hot room, I also went looking for the sea breeze as a relief. On that concrete I loved, cried, stared at the horizon wanting to run away, and even passed a few nights.
But on the morning of August 5 of that year, the Malecón became a battlefield. Around the ferry dock to Regla people were gathering, encouraged by the hijackings of several boats throughout the summer. An extended sensation of the end, of chaos, of "zero hour" was palpable in the atmosphere. Those waiting to take "the next boat to Florida" were the poorest, those with the least to lose, those ready for anything. Their disappointment was great when they learned there would be no chance of getting on any of these boats. Undoubtedly, that was the spark of the popular revolt that broke out immediately afterwards; but the fuel of the protest was hunger, scarcities and desperation.
A contingent of construction workers, disguised as "enraged people," lashed out against the unarmed crowd with sticks and iron bars. The order from on high was clear: crush the rebellion, but don't leave behind any image of anti-riot troops repressing the people. The epithets launched against the outraged of that day were "lumpen, vermin, criminals and counterrevolutionaries." The majority of them would emigrate in the coming weeks, on homemade rafts, or simple truck cabs mounted on inner tubes. Others were sent to prison for facing the shock troops. Fidel Castro showed up in the middle of it all -- only once the situation was under control -- and the official media displayed his presence there as the confirmation of a great victory. But the truth is that after a few weeks the government had to permit farmers markets to relieve the misery. Without the pressure exercised that August 5, we would have ended up like a "Democratic Kampuchea" in the middle of the Caribbean, like the experiment of a stubborn tropical Pol Pot.
I no longer like sitting in front of my dirty piece of the sea. Some of the horror of that August 5 is still there, sandwiched between the cracks in the wall.
Translating Cuba is a compilation blog with Yoani and other Cuban bloggers in English.
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Manuel Franco and colleagues have analyzed some of the health consequences of Cuba's socioeconomic collapse in 1990–1995, when the country lost the funding from the Soviet Union on which it had relied for the previous 30 years.1,2 During this period, Cubans essentially experienced a famine: adults had an average daily protein intake of 15–20 g and lost an average of 5%–25% of their body weight. Franco and colleagues neglected to mention many of the negative physical, mental and social consequences of this so-called Special Period.
The famine in Cuba during the Special Period was caused by political and economic factors similar to the ones that caused a famine in North Korea in the mid-1990s. Both countries were run by authoritarian regimes that denied ordinary people the food to which they were entitled when the public food distribution collapsed; priority was given to the elite classes and the military.3 In North Korea, 3%–5% of the population died; in Cuba the death rate among the elderly increased by 20% from 1982 to 1993.2,4 Thirty thousand Cubans fled the country, and thousands of these emigrants drowned or were killed by sharks in the Gulf of Mexico. Cuba accepted US donations of food, medicines and cash in 1993, and a system of private farmers' markets was set up in 1994 to provide access to locally grown food.
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http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2474886/
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sdr7CwQtOAw
The Maleconazo, as it is known, took place on August 5, 1994 around Havana’s well known waterfront route, near the port where the ferry to Regla is moored. Here, hundreds took the streets when rumors flew that the ferries had been hijacked and were leaving for the United States. With the collapse of the Soviet Union, subsidies from the once superpower ceased, resulting in a major downturn for Cuba's state-run economy. The economic situation became dire, with blackouts and food shortages, and many of Cuba’s youth - then as is the case today - sought to flee to the U.S., taking the path they know best to escape the lack of opportunities and liberties in Cuba. The government’s response to these actions was to send the state’s fast-acting brigades (department of state security officials) to the congregation at the port, in an effort to control any possible uprisings. What ensued was a large protest by Cubans who began shouting: “Freedom; Cuba yes, Castro no” and scuffling with police as they expressed their dissatisfaction with conditions on the island. Havana residents began pouring into the streets, significantly increasing the number of protesters. Discontent over the lack food and other basic needs had been building up like a pressure cooker; this was the eruption.- by Carmen Ferreiro
Six Cuban pro-democracy activists were arrested yesterday for leading a protest at Havana's Capitol building ("Capitolio").
They carried signs reading:
"Freedom for the Cuban People," "Down With Injustices," "Down With the Dictatorship," "Freedom for Political Prisoners" and "Long Live Human Rights."
Those detained are Lázaro Mendoza García, Jorge González Echendia, Luis Enrique López Torres, José Antonio Pompa López, Ernesto Márquez Herrera and Wilfredo Piloto.
Simultaneously, another protest was held in East Havana by members of the Latin American Federation of Rural Women (Federación Latinoamericana de Mujeres Rurales, FLAMUR) and the Republican Youth Impact Movement (Movimiento Impacto Juvenil Republicano).
Among those detained in that protest are Nayllibis Corrales Jiménez, Deysi Ponce, Osniel Valentín, Yosiel Guía Piloto, Fred Calderón, Miguel Ulloa, Rolando Ayala, Yander Ferrer and Miguel López Santos.