"Look, when I left Cuba, it was due to the pressure they had put me through. It had been like that, ever since I've started working for the Saiz Brothers Association. So let me give you two examples, in my view, very apt. Firstly it was when the director of the Saiz Brothers Association called and asked: 'What things are you talking about on the phone?' I said: 'Well, I say whatever I wanna say, and I don't see where should be any problem.' He replied: 'You better be aware what exactly you're speaking about over the phone. Because I've already received reports that you're saying things you're not supposed to'. In other words, they bugged my calls. Back then, I found it out thanks to the director, who was so kind and told me himself. That was the first example. The second one is that I got a call from Fernando Rojas. He required me to sabotage a certain group I was in. The group had always gathered on Friday in a park in the Vedado district. One of the members was a known journalist, writer and scientist, Tato Quiñones. Imagine, Vice President of Culture Fernando Rojas called to instruct me to persuade the other members of the mentioned group not to meet ever again."
"Every possible way to escape from such an exclusive regime as the Cuban one always leads to tragedies. In other words, you can't slip away. Only death can serve as a getaway ticket. There is simply no other option in this controlled world full of unimaginable horrors such as totalitarian regimes and communist dictatorships. No wonder … people tried their best to board a raft and sail to the United States. However, at that time, there was nothing to build a raft from. All kinds of stories are related to this obstacle. People were dismantling old trucks and taking tires from them, to which they then attached whatever came to their hands and off to the sea. We will never know how many people died on those roads. The number won't ever become clear. Whole families have parished, not just individual members. They won't be sitting together at a family table ever again. All this because of what the government had let happen in 1994. I feel like this is one of the things that best sums up the true nature of regimes like the Cuban one. What else might come up from it than a tragedy without any possible escape."
"I remember that at the time I attended The Lenin's rural High school, there was held the so-called March of the Torches. It was an event in a whole another level of dumb. Later someone explained to me, why these big mass events were frequently being held and why they are so crucial for totalitarian regimes. The regimes urge to have those large aerial photos, which show a huge number of people moving as one single man - such as large-scale panoramic scenes. Both Hitler and Stalin used to organise that as well. It is considered an essential event to hold once in a while. And Fidel was aware of that. He demanded these events - so The Torch March was exactly in such style. He thought, 'a bunch of people with torches, that's going to be a terrific spectacle for sure.' And it really looked like an ocean of torches. I once had to attend this march with torches at Lenin High School. There was always about five thousand of us at similar events. I remember standing there with my can of burning kerosene, it smelled like hell all around, and it was impossible to stand it. Then suddenly, someone started - I'm not sure whether you recall the Communist Youth Secretary Roberto Robaina, who made the famous cheer 'Who doesn't jump is an imperialist' - everyone started bouncing while still holding the lighted cans. I also held one… it was then when I first realize … yet it had still nothing to do with some political thinking … it felt like if you would find yourself in the middle of some stupid joke, in the middle of an absurd film, where everyone acts senselessly, but no one realizes it. It really was a foolish thing to do, because if a piece of cloth fell into the flame, someone might end up burned. It all was lacking any common sense. For the first time, I realized it. I didn't know it had something to do with politics, but I felt like I was in a bad movie or on LSD."
"I remember very well… and perhaps it has something to do with the period I grew up in - the 1980s. Looking back, it often seems like some mythical time, solid time. Unfortunately, in Cuba, things have never been great. Just because we had a piece of ham doesn't necessarily mean everything was okay. Anyway, it had been much better than what came afterwards. Because before we had had at least a little to eat. By and large, I think there had been numerous persecutions as well, for example, in the field of culture. They were putting intense pressure on various people. However, at that time, it wasn't something I would recognize. I was just a little pioneer who repeated the legendary phrase 'We'll be like Che Guevara'. I remember, when being about twelve years old, I was obsessed with becoming a war correspondent. I believed nothing could be more heroic than updating the world about the battles of the popular strata."
Hilda del Carmen Landrove Torres was born in 1975 in the colonial town of Guanabacoa on the eastern uptown of Havana. She lived with her family in a city district called Regla. Hilda vividly remembers that due to her father’s work, he was in the Merchant Navy, the neighbours considered them as an upper-class family. Moreover, her family was far and wide the first one to have a television at home. Hilda grew up surrounded by Castrist propaganda on all sides, and yet one of her greatest wishes was to become a war correspondent. As her childhood role models, she listed Che Guevara and Camila Cienfuegos. After graduating from music school, she enrolled at The Vladimir Ilyich Lenin’s elite rural high school. That’s where she first began to realize how ridiculous the Cuban educational system is. This sense of hers intensified even more when she became a teacher. She strongly disagreed with the policy, which required students to achieve excellent results despite the ongoing situation. So she eventually decided entirely drop her work in education. Then started to work for the Saiz Brothers Association, where she pursued organizing various cultural events and communication with official places. She got into the so-called grey zone, which was full of other independent artists and what could be viewed as germs of a new civil society. However, it was clear that these zones won’t last long due to the pressure from the authorities. She even experienced the pressure herself, as she found out her phone was pinned and then received instructions from “the higher places”, which required the termination of some of her activities. She emigrated to Mexico thirteen years ago and has lived there ever since. Currently is studying a doctoral program in anthropology. She tries to spread awareness of the Cuban future and actively takes part in developing a dialogue on the topic of the future direction of Cuba.
