In my previous post, I mentioned in passing that this and all other countries would face a devastating crisis of civilization sooner rather than later. In view of the pronounced interest the issue seems to have among Havana Times’ commentators, I have decided to return to it in this post.
“Did you hear about the accident that happened on the Monumental roadway half an hour ago? Two elderly mulattos driving a beige Moskovich at high speed ran into an electrical post. They say they’re from your neighborhood.”
Ernesto “Che” Guevara was taken prisoner and assassinated on October 9, 1967 under orders from the CIA. We know this thanks to testimonies offered by the person who executed him. Why falsify the historical record?
It is not my intention to debate whether the irregularities of local, inter-municipal or inter-provincial transportation are to be blamed on the blockade imposed on the island. What I want to share with you today is what happened to me yesterday…
Though I’ve been busy with the defense of my Masters’ thesis, I’ve had some time to read some of the comments on the posts written by my colleague, compatriot and friend Dariela Aquique. I want to point out at the outset that I have no intention of becoming her defense attorney.
I often say that the Cuban regime is a totalitarian dictatorship and, in saying this, I vent the frustration it produces me in one fell swoop. It’s a shame Spanish does not have as expressive and accurate a term as Totalherrschaft.
When the history of how Cuba entered the globalized marketplace is written healthcare will be the principal protagonist. Entering the international medical education marketplace and the dynamic use of human resources in healthcare has become the most globalized feature of the Cuban economy.
As women age, they begin to require a certain dignity that experience alone cannot afford them. What is experience, after all? It is the succession of the mistakes we make in life. And one never learns – there is simply not enough time to do so.
We know that the rights of children are systematically violated in many parts of the world. I began thinking about this again after seeing one of those funny videos from the United States that people pass about on flash drives here…
Four years ago, I published a diary entry titled Holguin: My Father’s Land. In it, I reminisced on my last trip to the east-laying province, in the 80s. I recall having broadly described my impressions from then and how it pained me that I hadn’t visited my family for a long time.