Old Panfilo has become the greatest reporter of modern Cuba, it isn’t by chance that the entire country comes to a standstill and sits in front of the TV every Monday evening to watch his comedy show. Even his censored programs pass around from hand to hand or on USBs and hard-drives.
A striking, beautifully filmed observation of life aboard an old freight train: a microcosm where a group of men forced to spend a lot of time together amid a variety of unplanned circumstances.
The pirated version of “Historias Callejeras” (Street stories), episodes 6 and 7 are now readily available for Cubans eager to see any material which offers an alternative to the boring official TV broadcasts. The show portrays a grim and violent reality on the Havana streets, the flip side of the Moon called Cuba.
Jazel is an undocumented Nicaraguan who has no home, or work, or money. For almost four months she’s been surviving however she can, wandering the streets of New York, in search of some way to subsist. She escaped a toxic relationship with a man who attacked her physically and psychologically.
In the two weeks of protests in Venezuela against President Nicolas Maduro’s government, which continued on Saturday, there has been more than smoke, arms and shields: there has also been room for the language of nonviolence to the point of nudity and creativity.
“Minus eleven degrees!” is Ania’s first remark about Moscow. She doesn’t dwell on it too long, but talks about her stay in Russia and that of many more like her who the technical health of a significant fleet of private cars in Cuba rely upon.
“We wanted to come see our parents’ and grandfather’s country,” the two brothers told me whose father I met a long time ago when we were children and then teenagers. They speak Spanish with the accent of those who were born in the United States, but learned it at home, eating rice and beans with “pork” meat.
Over the last few weeks, we have witnessed another controversial episode along the long road to searching for real solutions to our many burdens. The government in the capital of Havana introduced price regulations to how small scale private transport operate, who are known around here as boteros (private collective taxi drivers).
In my neighborhood, the story about Juan the butcher, who took a detour with a truck full of minced meat, sold it and then left the country, is famous. “It’s a good thing he left,” a neighbor warns, “because if he was still here, people would have got their hands on him…
Patricia Belli is possibly the most influential contemporary Nicaraguan artist of our times. The opening of “Balance and Collapse”, an exhibition of her collected works at the Ortiz Gurdián Foundation’s Managua Art Center, is the perfect excuse to talk with Patricia about her three decades in the world of Nicaraguan art.