hundred fire/Josefa was a master tobacco twister in Cienfuegos all his life. Old and black, the Cienfuegos woman knows her daughter-in-law, her only family, is carrying more than she can bear since she moved in two years ago. “He kept saying he wanted to get out of here and eventually sold the little room he lived in and moved to Nicaragua,” she says.
The niece didn't help her much, but she got along with her and gave her some stew when she could. Two years ago, Josefa had more energy to do “little jobs.” Now he's dedicated to reselling whatever he finds lying in the trash bins or some corner, which is useful.
Josefa is also seen sitting in the doorway, in front of Prado. Like her, many men and women of various ages have “taken over” the center of the city and beg there, sell what they can, and some spend the night on benches and sidewalks. Beyond loneliness, the common trait between the former Tarcidora and those who walk with her is old age and hunger.
Beyond loneliness, the common trait between the former Tarcidora and those who walk with her is old age and hunger.
“My family lived in Santa Isabel de las Lajas. In 1958 we were very poor, but there was always a plate of food to give to anyone. However, I eat what appears now and when it appears,” admits the woman, who recalls her years as a waste of time at Despaulo, Union or CDR. “People sacrificed a lot to comply, and in the end it was worthless.”
Cuba is home to 10 million people or a little less, officials said this week. It's been more than a decade since a census was conducted in the country, but the tired and aging faces of the island don't overlook the confused exodus of the younger ones. Among the many who live daily, there are about 10 million people who have turned the desire to leave into another necessity.
Humberto's situation is similar to Josefa's. A few months ago, the only one of her three grandchildren, the only one left in Cuba, left with him Parole. A few years ago, his own brother moved to Mexico, and now his son is preparing the procedures for Spanish citizenship. “It's one loss after another. And those who have nowhere to go, or are too old to go, are left behind,” he admits.
Humberto thought about doing like his son and filing the citizenship papers together, but an idea stopped him: “What is Tony going to do with an old man in Spain or anywhere? If you can't work in those countries you are a nuisance. It is better to wait until something good happens to him, he can call me to meet him, otherwise I am dead,” he admits.
If you can't work in those countries you are a nuisance. Better wait till good things happen to him, he may call me to meet him, otherwise I will die.
Tony, his son, “is a tremendous industrial engineer,” says the man from Cienfuegos. “He graduated with honors and worked at it all his life, but now he has no career and the salary is not enough. His two daughters left for Miami. What do you have left here?
Humberto and Josefa have seen family members, neighbors and co-workers disappear over the years. “There's always been migration in Cuba, but not as big as now,” says Josefa, whose neighbor's family of six moved in last month. “One day I did not see them and when I asked another neighbor he said they also went out with him. Parole“He remembers all six!”
Few remain on the island and are more and more helpless. “The person with a good career is looking for a scholarship or a job, the person with money is paying for a ticket to Nicaragua, the person with a family is leaving sooner or later. The only people who stay here are the people without family, without resources, without possibilities. The despair of knowing that everyone is leaving except you worries us who are still here, ” adds Humberto. “Without children, youth or talent, it will quickly become an island of miserable old people.”
