Farewell Letter From El Sexto / Regina Coyula

Valle Grande Prison

From the “cell” (of punishment)

September 16, 2015…

Where I am there is little light and I am in my underwear because I do not want to wear the prison uniform. They give me a mattress for 5 or 6 hours at night. I only drink water and there will be no ability to respond (from you to this letter) because they don’t allow contacts.

Thanks to Lia, Gorki, Antonio and everyone for helping my mother manage things. Thanks to Aylín for the beautiful and encouraging letters. I read them as many times as I could, I would like to write you a thousand letters like you deserve but now I do not think I will have the light, the paper, nor the energy to do it.

This may be my last letter from here in the punishment cell and if I survive you will hear more from my lips. So I want to tell everyone that I waited too long for this moment to do a hunger strike, we Cubans have wanted too long to expel these scoundrels.

Now that I have started, I feel my faith, determination and self-esteem go through the roof for having decided. I feel proud of being the artist that I am and of doing the art that I do for the Cuba I represent. So I am willing to give my life a hundred times if necessary.

He who lives without finding out what to die for, has not found the essence of life. A man with ideals of peace, love and one who does not carry a weapon to assert his opinions is the man of the future. Because with his faith, his hope, he builds an Eden here on earth.

Thank you all for trusting me and know that if I die I will die happy to carry with me a tattoo of my time like Laura Pollan, Oswaldo Paya, who left traces of their existence, of their generation, of their responsibility to leave behind then a legacy for their loved ones, one lesson: love what you do and devote your life to it.

I was born in a poor neighborhood, Nuevitas, Camagüey. My family is very humble: I lived in Arroyo Arenas from age 4; in Chafarinas, Guira de Melena; in Covadonga, Las Tunas: a village still without electricity; Guáimaro, Camagüey and Arroyo Arenas, La Lisa. And I was lucky to live in Vedado often, there I have my daughter Renata María, who was born in England.

I am a wanderer and I have gone here and there getting to know my country, my culture, that I love and so I raise my voice to denounce what seems wrong to me. I visited Holland for three months, I lived in The Hague, 45 minutes by train from the fabulous Amsterdam. I studied and lived at Miami Dade College in the United States for three months as well. All these places taught to me relate quickly to my surroundings, that the most important thing is to have friends, to love, to respect and not to do to anyone what we do not want them to do to us. I learned how to stand up to the powerful.

My art is respected today, more than anything because I believe in it. I respected it and gave it—and give it—all my strength, perseverance, affection and love. Although I was misunderstood and perhaps by others I still am, when those around you see so much love and how much you are able to give and how much you respect your art, then they begin to value it. But first we must build an altar of consecration in our chest and others, little by little, will begin to respect you for what you do: this knowledge is my legacy.

Someone said that all of humanity will part when we see a man who knows where he is going. This might be my last work and I have named it “Drawing Attention” or “The Awakening of the Inner Magician.” Each one of us has an inner magician. May my Gothic existence touch your hearts and light your flame and awaken your internal leader, being conscious of this gift of life and standing up against evil. Someone said, “The world is not this way because of those who do evil but because of those who allow it.”

This work is dedicated to my mother, my little daughter Renata María, to all those who support me, all those who added a grain of sand to achieve freedom for Cuba. To all the Ladies in White in the world and especially in Cuba: no more beating of women! To the memory of Laura, Oswaldo, Zapata.

This work is dedicated to my mother, my little daughter Renata María, to all those who support me, all who put in a grain of sand to achieve the freedom of Cuba. To all the Ladies in White of the world especially those in Cuba: no more beating of women! In memory of Laura, Oswaldo, Zapata.

The day I grabbed a spray can in my hand I decided what to do with my life.

So be it.

I am with faith and conviction: Liberty or death, to die for art is to live.


Danilo Maldonado, El Sexto.

Please sign for his freedom at Causes.com. < click there

El Sexto has been on a hunger strike since September 8th. He is demanding his freedom because he has been imprisoned since December 25th (of last year) for thinking to release some pigs with the names of Fidel and Raul, which he never released because he was imprisoned. He is in prison without trial or sentence or justice.

Giving Life to a Park / Regina Coyula

La Rampa in Havana

La Rampa in Havana

We are receiving with curiosity and joy teaspoons of internet fro wi-fi points in different cities of the country; here in Havana, the most widespread of these points is located on La Rampa, the heart of the city.

Beyond the adrenaline that many feel on connecting with the world for the first time, and those who come to these zones as if they were true digital natives, all that happens on La Rampa, with a wireless signal from the Malecon to the corner of the Coppelia ice cream stand at 23rd and L, does not have the conditions for comfortable navigation.

It has become part of the landscape to see every kind of person (most of them young), sitting on some stairs, leaning against a doorway, avoiding the sun under a scrawny tree, or defiantely challenging the sun and defying the cars, positioned on the curb with their feet in the street and absorbed in their mobile device. It is a rare sight to see that technological overcrowding in the shadows, which in now way embellishes the landscape.

1441386198_100_4684-1The idea occurs to me of giving them the use of the park built on the corner occupied by the Alaska Building at 23rd and M, demolished for security reasons, but not so much the security of its residents as that of Fidel, from when he went almost daily to the ICRT studios for those interminable Roundtable shows that nobody misses.

This park, unlike the one located at Galiano and San Rafael where another important connection point operates, knows neither the scampering of children nor furtive kisses, now that no one will plot an attack from its heights, it should be offered to the internauts as a comfortable and secure zone, this vindicating its condition, giving it life and meaning.

Taxes and "Glamor" / Regina Coyula

Paris Hilton and Fidel Castro Jr, in Havana

Regina Coyula, 7 August 2015 — The mindless display of opulence bothers me ethically and aesthetically. But I have nothing against enrichment from legal sources and from the effort, talent, or ability of the individual.

The Cuban government takes a hypocritical position. On the one hand it is trying to prevent at all costs the personal enrichment of the emerging private entrepreneur class, subjecting them to restrictions and imposing inordinate taxes. On the other hand—not having ever experienced any of the restrictions suffered by the average citizen—it now aims to attract fresh foreign capital (accumulated in their home countries thanks to the absence of restrictive regulations like those imposed in ours) and also the tourism of the rich and famous, some of whom we have already seen parading through Cuba.

Translated by Tomás A.

Debut and Dismissal / Regina Coyula

Regina Coyula, 8 July 2015 — A note about this work by Juan Carlos Cremata arrived by mail. The final phrase is not mine:

Regrettably, the National Council of Performing Arts has decided to take down the poster of Eugene Ionesco’s Exit the King by El Ingenio theater group after its first two inaugural performances last weekend.

They will make the announcement public and official.

Once again it is evident that “Censorship does not exist.”

The Secret To Good Frijoles Negros / Regina Coyula

Regina Coyula, 19 June 2015 — Indispensable to any feast, everyone adds his or her own secret ingredient to the basic recipe for tomato-less sofrito*: the proportion of cumin, the cooking time over a low flame to congeal the bean, the sprinkle of dry wine, the pinch of sugar–in short, there are as many secrets as there are recipes.

I love black beans but, when in Barcelona I was invited to lunch at the Frijoles Negros Restaurant, I was alarmed: It didn’t seem proper to travel so far to eat what is routine fare here. However, Jorge, my nice host, managed set my mind at ease.

A semi-hidden location at No. 146 Carrer de Bruc street, almost at the corner with the busy Avenue Diagonal, houses this exquisitely designed spot that in no way recalls the accompanying themes of Cuban cuisine. White is the predominant color, with black/gray and red touches here and there, reproductions of Xavier Cugat posters, and that’s it.

But the food, which is what makes one return to a restaurant–or not, even when it boasts Picasso originals–is very good. Without trying to come off as a gourmet, I very much enjoyed the mix of dishes from international cuisine with a wink towards Cuban flavors, and vice versa. Thus the domestic salad of lettuce and tomato is enhanced by cut-up strawberry, and the very aristocratic salmon shares the billing with yucca and mojo [a garlic-and-sour-orange-based sauce or marinade].

The complement is a wait staff who are attentive at just the right degree to make you feel good.

The culprit of all this is Juan Carlos Puig Bretons, a Cuban of Catalan heritage with ideas to spare. In the evenings, live jam sessions and, if I’m not mistaken, the place even serves (or will serve) as a discotheque on weekends.

The longing in Juan Carlos flirts with opening a place in Cuba, now that he’s told that this can be done, but he hasn’t decided yet. Many requirements and few guarantees make him feel cautious, and so he waits. Besides, he is still quite involved in Frijoles Negros, his work-in-progress.

Now you know, the secret of good black beans lies not only in the cooking time.

As a conversation piece, I leave you with a little-known recipe–let’s see if Juan Carlos will dare to include it in his fusion cuisine.

Black Beans a la Menocal

(from La Cocina en el Hogar [The Kitchen in the Home] by Dr. Dolores Alfonso)

1.5 cups black beans

30 medium tomatos, peeled and seeded

3 onions

1 cup oil

1 bay leaf

5 tsp sugar

4 garlic cloves

4 liters water

1 large bell pepper

Salt and pepper

Cook the beans in the water with the bay leaf. When softened, add salt and the sofrito made from the onion, bell pepper, tomatoes, garlic and pepper. Later add the sugar and let simmer over a low flame until they thicken. They are left to rest for one day and reheated at serving time.

Yields 6 servings of 396 calories each.

Translated by: Alicia Barraqué Ellison, among others

Translator’s notes:

*Sofrito is a stir-fry of aromatic vegetables, herbs and spices used as the base for many Cuban dishes. It may or may not include tomato.

Skepticism / Regina Coyula

Regina Coyula, 22 June 2015 — Today on the morning TV news I saw the live broadcast of the flag-waving ceremony by the delegation attending the Pan American Games in Canada. I am suspicious of those athletes who compete for the Fatherland, Socialism, the Five Heroes, Honor, etc., but not for something as normal and natural as winning a medal. The event was like carbon copy of the speeches and events of thirty years ago.

Cuba, with a smaller-than-normal delegation, aspires to finish second among the countries. While the camera panned the athletes in a formation more military ceremony than sports, I wondered skeptically which faces would not return, victims of the siren song of professional sports or the Cuban Adjustment Act.

Privatized? / Regina Coyula

Regina Coyula, 6 May 2015 — I have noticed that the old-time “conductor” has recently made a comeback on city buses (though the person driving them is still called the driver). Rather than using the fare box, passengers must now pay the conductor instead. Being the curious type, I got into a conversation with one of them and found out a few things that our informative newspaper Granma has not mentioned.

According to the conductor — the driver also joined in on the conversation — the buses are in essence leased to the workers, who are responsible for maintenance and repairs. However, the Chinese manufacturer will not ship spare parts because the state has not paid its bills. If anything breaks, fare receipts drop, so the bus company deals with it by unofficially passing the problem on to the drivers. Since the driver has his hands full, a co-worker — a driver himself — is there to make sure every passenger pays the requisite fare.

The workers must set aside a certain portion of their share of the receipts for bus maintenance, a percentage much lower that what the company gets, which amounts to more than half the receipts according to my source. And that is not his only complaint.

“Newspaper articles only talk about the things people complain about, but no one talks about what we are going through,” he says.

There is music in the background as we talk. Music can be heard on every bus these days, typically whatever a driver happens to like. On this particular day it happens to be love songs.

“I like timba and some reggaeton but this music relaxes me,” says the driver. “If I have problems now, can you imagine what it would be like if I played the other?”