WAITING IN CUBA

By Leonardo Padura Reprint | | Print |

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HAVANA, Sep 3 2008 (IPS) - Since the formation of the country in the 19th century, Cubans have always had to wait for the arrival of something that would complete them or improve their lot (political independence, better government, economic development, etc), writes Leonardo Padura Fuentes, a Cuban author and journalist whose novels have been translated into a dozen languages. The growing desire to emigrate is one of the most tangible reflections of the exhaustion of the process of waiting. What is painful about the case of Cuba is that the process is also directly compromising the essence of today\’s society and above all the future society, because a considerable number of the emigrants of the last two decades were young professionals who found themselves unmotivated, disinterested, and distrustful and decided to shift their hopes to areas where their chances seemed better. This exodus of the young, the intelligent, and the educated is without a doubt bleeding Cuba\’s present and future. It is also a cause, among others, of the aging and the shrinking of the population of the island. The art of waiting that their ancestors practised does not seem to be an option that the youngest Cubans wish to pursue any longer. What remains to be known is whether Cuban society can infinitely prolong its wait as it sees so many of its sons and daughters carried away.

Perhaps the best example of how waiting has been integrated into the Cuban subconscious can be found in the infinite patience we have developed for tolerating the queues that for fifty years we have had to navigate for every aspect of daily life. The highest manifestation of Cuban waiting, however, can be found in the widespread practice of simply killing time, practised in any convenient spot of shade while waiting for something that will move their lives forward.

In the last two years, Cubans on and off the island have waited for the possible changes that could (or should) take place in the economic, social, and even political spheres of the country. This wait for change generated moments of high drama when in mid-2007 the government acknowledged the necessity of “structural and conceptual changes” in the country’s economic and social model, especially when voices were heard publicly calling for them (in the congress of the Union of Writers and Artists, for example) and when certain changes began to be introduced and certain bans were lifted – though the majority of these were more formal than structural or conceptual modifications of the social model. However, the prolonged wait for new and deeper changes that do not seem about to happen has been eroding expectations for months now and has awakened the inertia of waiting with no horizon.

One of the most anxiously-awaited changes regards the rigid restrictions on travel abroad – the so-called “exit permit” without which no Cuban can legally cross the country’s borders. Certain circles had openly criticised – for the first time within the country – the existence of this onerous requirement. There has been talk recently of eliminating it, or altering it, which would be more realistic given the country’s logic, as would be the replacement of the permit with an authorisation that would be valid for two years.

The pressure of a significant number of people demanding elimination of the exit permit arose from a social and economic reality that is struggling to make itself known, independent of the official speeches and arguments that cause delay and condemn people to more waiting. However, as is often the case, when one route is blocked off to a society, the people find an alternative, and this is what is happening in Cuba with regard to emigration as a reflection not of political antagonism but rather of the exhaustion produced by waiting.

In the logic of the Cuban government, citizens of the island should have no desire to emigrate: the simple fact of living in the country with greatest justice, social equality, respect for human dignity should be enough to prevent anyone from wanting to leave this land chosen by history. However, reality, more tenacious even than the official speeches – and these can be very tenacious – shows an increase in emigration-related activity and a sharp jump in the number of people who legally or illegally are leaving the island, whether or not they are drawn by the American law which guarantees that any Cuban who reaches the US will be allowed to stay.

This desire to emigrate is one of the most tangible reflections of the exhaustion of waiting. Emigration has been part of human culture since the beginning, but what is painful about the case of Cuba is that the process is also directly compromising the essence of today’s society and above all future society, because a considerable number of the emigrants of the last two decades (forgive me if I can’t cite precise figures, which are so difficult to come by in reference to Cuban society) were young professionals who found themselves unmotivated, disinterested, and distrustful (as a study on the subject showed) and decided to shift their hopes to areas where their chances seemed better.

This exodus of the young, the intelligent, and the educated is without a doubt bleeding Cuba’s present and future. It is also a cause, among others, of the aging and the shrinking of the population of the island. The art of waiting that their ancestors practised does not seem to be an option that the youngest Cubans wish to pursue any longer. What remains to be known is whether Cuban society can infinitely prolong its wait as it sees so many of its sons and daughters carried away. (END/COPYRIGHT IPS)