BUFFALOES,BY ORLANDO VICENTE

 

 agronomist in chief, physician in chief, cowboy in chief and other more stupides.

FIDEL: AGRONOMIST IN CHIEF, PHYSICIAN IN CHIEF, COWBOY IN CHIEF AND OTHER MORE STUPIDES.

   Taking advantage of the influence that Fidel Castro had on the people - there was no one to oppose his absurd inventions - his proven charisma, his tireless verbiage in front of the TV cameras or the radio, began to interfere in all kinds of matters that they corresponded to their ministers or other responsible parties.

  It seems that no flatterer could speak to him of a new idea for the development of the country that he immediately made it his own and he proclaimed it to the four winds so that everybody could see how wise he was and the hope of the people in a better future did not die.

  First was the matter of Café Caturla whose plantation throughout the island, including the courtyards of the houses, the apartment balconies and the pavements of the sidewalks, would solve the scarcity of grain that was scarce and its price on the black market exceeded that of gold raw.

  I remember as a child planting the Caturla coffee in the gardens of my school and stealing a plant that I grew in my pastyard.

  Of course that coffee failed miserably. It was not for a tropical country like ours and as the true coffee plants of the mountains needed a bit of shade from the giant trees that surrounded them. So we had Café caturla goes, coffee caturla comes, until all the plants died in the country. He did not make any self-criticism but some head rolled. Always blaming other for his failures.

  Then it was the turn of the Zacarina: sugarcane crushed to powder to feed the cattle. The newspapers did nothing but talk about the zucarina. At last a panacea to feed the dwindling cattle whose meat was rationed since the beginning of the revolution and milk even more, only for children. The chief surveyor. There was no one who knew more about Agriculture than he did. Suddenly there was no more talk of the happy food. The cattle, accustomed to the Cuban grass, died with the zacarina. Some other head was cut off.

  Then It  enter the Hit Parade the Zeolite. A kind of small pebbles that were placed in the ulcers of the patients' legs. Then began the speeches of the commander about the benefits of the zeolites and that they were almost miraculous. The members of the PCC when they had wounds or ulcers said: please, antisepsis, nurse, with foreign antiseptics but not, please, with zeolite. That is for the people.

  If he got information about the use of "worms" that devoured rotten tissues in the ulcers, he did not say anything, perhaps advised by a daring minister that the town was thin and covered with worms in the wounds. It was too much, they would think that they were already rotting alive. He did not talk about the worms.

   Then came the nuclear plant in Cienfuegos. This time he was more cautious because the United States told him to be careful. The truth is that they invested 1000 million dollars in the work until they discovered that the area was in seismic area and they suspended it. Disillusioned workers, it was what the commander called with the phrase "Work of Shock" returned home and everything was abandoned.

  Fidelito, a nuclear engineer, had to bear the guilt in silence but Fidel did not have compassion and replaced him as chief nuclear engineer. That was done in silence because it was his son-Fidel said he did not feel filial love for anyone, he was born deprived of that feeling-and Fidelito went into oblivion and became depressed when he fell into disgrace and a billion of the people went through the sewer. Nor was any self-criticism made.

  Before this, the so-called "Swine Fever" had been presented in Guantanamo. All the pigs had to be slaughtered, including the healthy ones - my father had a clandestine raising of small pigs in the grandmother's patio. He presented that he would see each day to feed them and he had to sacrifice them all, we were eating pork until the same smell gave us nausea- Of course some heads fell down because of this, among them, honest men and probos who went unfortunately to jail.

  And the commander in chief: silence.

    Elderly patients arrived undernourished at the hospital emergency room with edema in the lower limbs due to hypoproteinemia or lack of proteins, especially from red meat. They gave little food to their working children or their small grandchildren. They preferred to die before their offspring. And the cuban News in silence and we were silenced by the fear instilled for so many years.

  They invented a new kind of coffee. A mess of green binds with alittle true coffee. The people called rapidilly "Cafe Ñok" because when they drink it used to say "Coño" that is a expression in Cuba of something like shit.

   I went to Baconao in my car with my family and another very close friend and we saw an enclosure of crocodile breeding. Crocodiles sunbathing everywhere. This hidden place was not mentioned in the newspapers or any means of communication. Fine meat for the council of State and for foreign tourism.

  When I was traveling to the Province of Santiago de Cuba I saw some  I saw some small cows of chocolate red color. They say that Raul Castro had brought them and that they were of a strange race, to try to acclimatize themselves and taste that new meat because for the people: nothing.

  And when Castro started talking about medicine. "Fuacata "He had to swallow all the stupid things he said about diseases and treatments. Between us we called him "The Commander in Chief Doctor"

    And when he gave him the habit of importing water buffaloes - to the swamps of STGO DE CUBA or elsewhere, he spoke glories about the new cattle, how well they adapted. Of its meat, milk and even the exquisite cheeses that would be produced. Suddenly he do not speak more about the buffaloes. If it was meat for the people or an exotic for tourists. Neither the newspapers mentioned it and the people, silent.

  Before dying, when he still gave tired speeches and almost without energy, he persisted in his delusions.

   This time it was the turn of the Creole Malanga, a white tuber on the inside that is given to children or the elderly since ancient times. As if the people did not know the properties of the tubercle he was explaining about its properties. Of course, with the hunger that was going on in the Special Period, the Farmer in Chief had to speak and this time talking about a food that had long since disappeared from the state stores and that the cleverest exchanged with the peasants up the mountain. Well, give him the taro. He no longer knew what recourse to use in his speeches. But of the flesh. almost firing if you killed a cow, even if it was owned by a peasant.

  And so he died. With a piece of taro stuck in his throat and "his beloved town" missing food. They cried it with dry tears because nobody wanted it anymore - only those who want to keep their posts in the government - the newspapers do not stop talking about their exploits but never about their lies and failure.

  The new president of Spain Pedro Sanchez recently made a mysterious trip to the island, it must be because of the numerous hotels that this country has in Cuba. The Cuban press, read Granma newspaper, treated him coldly and dedicated a short article about his arrival on his cover. The rest of the newspaper loaded with fragments of the life or works of the missing commander and nothing else. Any resemblance to the North Korean Dynasty is not mere coincidence.

  Ahh. The last thing I found out, that a small northern cay were swarming "deers" as a tourist attraction and that a journalist could taste a dish of meat from the small animal, something dry but tasty meat.

 Could it be that Brother Raúl follows his example but in a more discreet way?

                                             Dr    Orlando Vicente Álvarez
cuban uruguayan
genius

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HAM HAM. BANQUET. WE EAT THE ENVELOPES OF THE CUBAN COMMANDER'S BANQUET.

WE EAT THE ENVELOPES OF THE CUBAN COMMANDER'S BANQUET. WE EAT THE ENVELOPES FROM THE COMMANDER'S BANQUET, BEFORE WE GO TO NICARAGUA. When it was all over, the crowd dispersed and the militiamen returned to the Secondary School, hungry and thirsty. After being satisfied they came some buses and all left. We were left with the ambulance driver, a very young white recruit and myself.    The recruit entered the kitchen and called me:    -Come see this!    What I saw filled me with amazement. Dozens of pigs dead, peeled, gutted and about to be cooked. Round cheeses, ham legs hanging on hooks from the ceiling. Things I haven't seen in years.     - We are going to take one of each of these things for our families.     "What about the ambulance driver?"     - Good. Agree.     It seemed that everyone had dropped out of school. So we loaded two piglets for the ambulance, cheese slices, and a whole ham for each one. The driver happy with that wealth that fell from the sky and all with the support of the two of us.     I left the recruit who was looking for a jeep apparently to carry everything that would fit from the provision that Castro had inadvertently put into our position.      The ambulance man took me to my house and we entered through the garage so that no one would snoop our cargo. When the driver left and my wife saw all that loot she said:     Fidel wanted to benefit his faithful clapping seals and does not know that he gave us a gift, albeit stolen, from some who did not agree with his chatter. DR ORLANDO VICENTE ALVAREZ URUGUAYAN CUBAN GENIUS ------------------------- more in https://www.amazon.es/Libros-Orlando-Alvarez/s?ie=UTF8&page=1&rh=n%3A599364031%2Cp_27%3AOrlando%20Alvarez Posted by Orlando Vicente Alvarez at 6:31 PM Email This BlogThis! Share to Twitter Share to Facebook Share to Pinterest Labels: #, #cerdos, #fidel castro, #focas, # jamón, #military applauding, #moncada, #cheese, #basic high school, #willy Hodge

REVOLUCION CULTURAL REVOLUTION Una madrugada apareció una foto amplia de Fidel Castro pegada a la entrada de unos de los baños. Tenía emplastada toda una caca de mierda en la cara y nadie quería ensuciarse al quitarla. Se formó un lio tremendo, discursos, amenazas pero todo quedó ahí. No podían con cientos de adolescentes serios y con la boca herméticamente cerrada. Esa noche nos dieron pescado frito.------#cuba THE NEW MAN, THE ANAL CLEANING AND THE GRAMMA NEWSPAPER

#cuba THE NEW MAN, THE ANAL CLEANING AND THE GRAMMA NEWSPAPER

THE NEW MAN, THE ANAL CLEANING AND THE GRAMMA  NEWSPAPER.
.
      Dr  Orlando Vicente Álvarez

URUGUAY
   When we arrived at the Seventh Grade of Secondary, the Cuban Revolution had compulsorily instituted "The School to the Field" which was to spend 45 days, suspended the teaching work, in Agriculture.
     We were simple teenagers from everywhere. They gave us a change of work clothes that included tennis shoes, trousers and a long-sleeved shirt, all of a rough but resistant fabric.
     We girls and boys were most excited. It was the first time that we separated for so long and we freed ourselves from the tutelage of our parents. The enthusiasm was contagious.
   We did not know that we were part of a plan created by Che Guevara to form what he called "the new man": obedient traitor to every order, revolutionary in every way and ideologically formed in Marxism-Leninism. In addition to separating ourselves from the generation and values of our parents, who in their immense majority were traditional bourgeois even if they were peasants of African descent and poor Galicians.
   I remember it was in December. The main time for Catholics and that was already diluting the customs of Christmas and Christmas Eve and the cerebration of a new year.
   All good until then. After the first days of work on a state farm far away from the city so that most of our parents did not come to see us, the hunger began and as we had to pick tomatoes we took a bag of salt to the field and we were fed up with them until we were satiated and lunch time arrives.
   But the big problem was the toilets that they had prepared. They were holes in the concrete with two bricks on each side to put the feet and defecate in crouches. We called them "take aim" because you had to hit the small hole accurately.
    The toilet paper that we brought from home was soon over and we had to use the GRAMMA newspaper that was not lacking. But you had to moisten it a bit earlier because it scraped the rear and then we left with the ass inked black. The holes had no wall in front so everyone who passed saw us in that very private act. The same would be with girls.
   In the afternoon bath time was an agony because we had to stand in line to load a bucket with cold water - and it was cold in December - and bathe in a row inside four walls. We had to scrub our asses well with washing soap to remove the inking. For boys there were no problems in walking naked. But for the girls I do not know how they managed.
   One morning a large photo of Fidel Castro appeared stuck to the entrance of one of the bathrooms. A whole peace of shit was plastered on his face and no one wanted to get dirty by removing it. There was a tremendous mess, speeches, threats but everyone was in silent. They could not with hundreds of serious teenagers and with their mouths tightly closed.
   That night they gave us fried fish.

DR ORLANDO VICENTE ALVAREZ

CUBAN URUGUAYAN,GENIUS

EL HOMBRE NUEVO, LA HIGIENE ANAL Y EL PERIÓDICO GRAMMA.

   Cuando llegamos al Séptimo Grado  de  Secundaria la Revolución cubana había instituido de forma obligatoria “La Escuela al Campo” que era pasar 45 días, suspendidas las labores docentes, en la Agricultura.

     Éramos unos simples adolescentes venidos de todas partes. Nos entregaban una muda de ropa de trabajo que  incluía zapatos tenis, pantalón y una camisa de mangas largas, todo de una tela burda pero resistente.

     Nosotros las chicas y chicos de lo más entusiasmados. Era la primera vez que nos separábamos por tanto tiempo y nos liberábamos de la tutela de nuestros padres. El entusiasmo era contagioso.

   No sabíamos que éramos parte de un plan creado por el Che Guevara para formar lo que él llamaba “el hombre nuevo”: trabador obediente a toda orden, revolucionario a toda prueba e ideológicamente formado en el Marxismo-Leninismo. Además de ir separándonos de la generación y los valores de nuestros padres que en su inmensa mayoría era tradicional burguesa aunque fueran campesinos descendientes de africanos y gallegos pobres.

   Recuerdo que fue en Diciembre. La época principal para los católicos y que ya se iba diluyendo las costumbres de Navidad y de Noche Buena y la cerebración de un nuevo año.

   Todo bien hasta entonces. Transcurrido los primeros días de trabajo en una granja estatal bien  lejos de la ciudad para que la mayoría de nuestros padres no fuera a vernos,  empezó el hambre y como teníamos que recoger tomates nos llevábamos hacia el campo una bolsita con sal y nos hartábamos  de la vianda hasta quedar saciados y llegara la hora del almuerzo.

   Pero el gran problema eran los inodoros que nos habían preparados. Eran unos huecos en el cemento con dos ladrillos a cada lado para poner los pies y defecar en cuclillas. Nosotros les llamábamos “coge puntería” porque había que acertar el pequeño orificio con precisión.

    El papel higiénico que trajimos de casa se nos acabó pronto y tuvimos que usar el diario GRAMMA que no faltaba. Pero había que humedecerlo un poco antes pues raspaba el trasero y después salíamos con el culo entintado de negro. Los huecos no tenían pared al frente así que todo el que pasaba nos veía en ese acto tan privado. Lo mismo sería con las chicas.

   En la tarde la hora del baño era una agonía pues teníamos que hacer cola para cargar un balde con agua fría- y hacia frio en Diciembre- y bañarse en fila dentro de cuatro paredes.  Teníamos que restregarnos bien el culo con jabón de lavar para quitar el  entintado.  Para los varones no había problemas en andar desnudos. Pero para las chicas no sé cómo se las ingeniaban.

   Una madrugada apareció una foto amplia de Fidel Castro pegada a la entrada de unos  de los baños. Tenía  emplastada toda una caca de mierda en la cara y nadie quería ensuciarse al quitarla. Se formó un lio tremendo, discursos, amenazas pero todo quedó ahí. No podían con cientos de adolescentes  serios y con la boca herméticamente cerrada.

   Esa noche nos dieron pescado frito.   

DR ORLANDO VICENTE ALVAREZ
CUBANO URUGUAYO,GENIO

WHAT THE WIND SPUMES This dawn woke me a dream of a memory of almost 40 years. His eyes were full of tears and a sense of wasted time gone, like scenes that fade into a dense fog and disappear.

WHAT THE WIND SPUMES      This dawn woke me a dream of a memory of almost 40 years. His eyes were full of tears and a sense of wasted time gone, like scenes that fade into a dense fog and disappear. They were companions of the Preuniversity.    With their blue skirts uniforms and the ribbons that adhered to them according to the year, girls and boys paraded as they were in their youth.    I was on the steps of the Pre and watched as some of the friends and friends walked towards the mist and vanished.    I could identify Arlen or Carlota my beautiful friend on whose balcony of her house we discussed Freud and Heminguey, the Cisneros with her eternal vigilant mother - tall with adorable legs - Margarita, Izet, discreet and intelligent, Laila the crazy, Nelly Fernandez Mafú with her beautiful hieratic face whom I loved in silence, Mechi, my friend Loforte, my other partner Philip, black and tall, the male Pilots and others.    Then I began to reflect on the dream. It was the scene of our glorious youth gone forever. From our best stage of life in which existence seemed like a lawn where we wallowed among flowers full of happiness.   Now those times remain in the memory. Scattered throughout the world, my companions still suffer the tearing of exile even though they have already settled with their families in new lands.   That's why he cried. For the times gone that dragged me to a glorious past that the wind carried away.   We were so happy and we didn't realize.                         DR      ORLAND VICENTE ÁLVAREZ

cuban uruguayan genius

CUBA: A CUBAN NEWLY EMIGRATED TO PUNTA DEL ESTE

  CUBA: A CUBAN NEWLY EMIGRATED TO PUNTA DEL ESTE

  .Recently a Cuban emigrant settled next to my house in Punta del Este, with his wife and daughter. And he began his pilgrimage in search of work.

  As every Cuban in exile remained silent and avoided my encounters with him. Or was a victim of Castro indoctrination. Or a State Security agent or he was afraid of any Cuban who came close to being a snitch of Castroism.

  I greeted him kindly with a "Hello" every time we met. I would not follow Castro's tactic of distrusting any of my land. We are all Cubans and we love the land that we leave behind, whatever the reason.

  He got a precarious work badly paid, his wife also and his daughter placed her in a free nearby Lyceum - here education is free and also private, depends on the pocket of each one.

  I found out that the Cuban did not even have a TV to entertain his family at night and that they had to go to bed early. I gave them a TV-a moment- I gave him my own, I'm not the Mother Teresa reincarnated, and I told him to connect to the cable I was paying so that his options were varied. 

   He quickly installed it and in the light of his house it stays on until late at night.I am not afraid of the Cuban KGB, a charitable spirit as I was taught in the Church and that it is he who judges: whether I am an enemy of his ideology or not.

  I will not follow Castro's mandate to put fear or terror into every compatriot who emigrates, even if he does not know it. I'm not a Saint, but one of my land is a brother, whether it's the political tinge I have. 

  After all, you will learn what it is to live in a democracy and at some point-whether you are a snitch or not-you will understand that we must all remain together until freedom arrives on my island.

  Do not be afraid. Remain united because what Castro wants is for us to distrust and stay in power for a few more years

The Chavian: first woman cuban who whiters a new kind of Fiction Science

THE CHAVIAN: FIRST CUBAN WOMAN WHO WRITE FICTION SCIENCE.

  In 1991, I was a frequent reader and buyer of the main library in Guantánamo. I found a recently published book.
   It was a storybook, the main and most moving, entitled the cover: THE ABBREVIATION OF DINOSAURS. I made a brief reading of the homonymous story and was surprised. It was a mixture of ancient myths, antediluvian animals and the secret meaning that the author wanted to give to the whole book.I bought it and I went to digest it at home.
   DAINA CHAVIANO-1957- was the writer, unknown to me, but in which she discovered a new way of working Science Fiction. Then I found out that she had fled to the United States and I lost her trail.
   Her book was removed from the library and the provincial library. I could not believe that a new Cuban writer would handle science fiction in a different way than Ray Bradbury, Isaac Asimov, Howard Phillips Lovecraft and others wrote.
   The Dinosaur Trough resembles the ancient Greek-Roman myth of Cronus. Cronos and his sister-wife Rea (who in Roman mythology is associated with the goddess Ops) fathered six of the 12 gods and goddesses of Olympus. However, Cronos, jealous of his children and distrusting that they did with him what he did with his father, he was eating them as they were born.
   In the story is a dinosaur or dinosauria - the mother earth or the supreme goddess of man - who devoured their children as they were born.Mythology transferred to the present or a suggestion to the Castro regime that devoured the devout people in case anyone wanted to replace it when they grew up and noticed their cruelty.I dont know.
    The author may have the key to what she wrote the book. But it left an indelible mark on me, a lover of science fiction too.
   Here in exile searching and searching I learn that the Chaviano has an extensive work after her departure from Cuba and has received multiple awards for her books in which she continues to use a mixture of ancient myths, mainly Caribbean or Cuban, with a fine lyricism to sometimes, eroticism and the absurd.
    I recommend the book that awakened my imagination in Cuba, back in the early 90's.
 THE ABBREVIATION OF DINOSAURS.
   THANK YOU .DAINA CHAVIANO
                                                       .DR. Orlando Vicente Álvarez. Uruguay


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Mariela Castro Espin eating lobster with her friend

MARIELA CASTRO ESPIN EATING LOBSTER WITH HER FRIENDS

    Another publicity photo of the regime is circulating in the international media - not the Cubans - where the princess  in chief eating lobsters with some supposed friends. And the propaganda of the system says that President Diaz-Canel has succeeded in his Twitter and that he makes a "triumphant" view of the province of Guantánamo, reigning millenary factories, rediscovering the fertile valley of Caujerí, following in the footsteps of Martí, Maceo and Máximo Gomez-It does not sound familiar to you this voyage that another tyrant visited decades ago- And the cameras do not miss detail. 
   Knowing the Cuban system sociologically and psychologically means that now they are desperate because the end is near, to give a blow of anger to the opposition especially to the Cubans of the diaspora.
  They only resort to these methods when they want to exasperate their enemies, how good everything is and even how they eat lobster, forbidden the simple people to exasperate their enemies.
   The new generation is fed up with slavery and longs for freedom but they do not have the tradition or the true courage of our heroes of independence. Only escape from the country by any means or travel abroad to bring trinkets that all Cubans crave.
   And they have resorted to the figure of Fidel Castro because they have nothing new to say. Now that President Trump has hardened his position - something populist but effective - against the Cuban regime, they have revivered to a behavior of the old dictatorial systems: joy, good face and no fear. When intuitively they see how the left of Latin America falters.
    Brazil has been the first example. And the Cuban leaders now know that the end is near. All because it is natural with a young population that knows more about Democracy than previous generations but are afraid.
 .MARIELA CASTRO laughs eating lobster before the cameras for external consumption. But they are afraid, very afraid, more than ever, that the final collapse is approaching.
                          
                                                            .Orlando Vicente Álvarez

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Mariela Castro comiendo langostas con sus amigas

MARIELA CASTRO ESPIN COMIENDO LANGOSTA CON SUS AMIGAS

   Otra foto de publicidad del régimen está circulando por los medios internacionales-no de los cubanos- donde está la princesa en jefa comiendo langostas con unas supuestas amigas.

  Y la propaganda del sistema dice que el presidente  Diaz- Canel ha tenido éxito en su Twitter y que realiza una vista "triunfante" por la provincia de Guantánamo, reinaurando fábricas  milenarias, redescubriendo el fertil valle de Caujerí, tras las huellas de Martí, Maceo y Máximo Gomez-No les suena ya conocido este voyage  que visitó otro tirano décadas atrás- Y las cámaras no se pierden detalle. .

  Conociendo sociológicamente y psicológicamente al sistema cubano significa que ahora están desesperados porque se acerca el final, para darles un golpe de rabia a la oposición sobre todo a los cubanos de la diáspora.

  Solo se recurre a esos métodos cuando quieren exasperar a sus enemigos, lo bien que está todo y hasta como comen langosta, manjar vedado al pueblo sencillo para exasperar a sus enemigos.

  La nueva generación está harta de la esclavitud y ansia la libertad pero no tienen la tradición ni la verdadera valentía de nuestros héroes de la independencia. Solo escapar del país por cualquier medio o viajar al extranjero para traer baratijas que todo cubano ansia.

  Y han recurrido a la figura de Fidel Castro porque no tienen nada nuevo que decir. Ahora que el presidente Trump ha endurecido su postura-algo populista pero eficaz- contra el régimen cubano  este ha recurrido  a un comportamiento de los viejos sistemas dictatoriales: alegría, buena cara y nada de miedo.          Cuando por intuición ven como la izquierda de América Latina tambalea. Brasil ha sido el primer ejemplo. Y los dirigentes cubanos ahora saben que se aproxima el final. Todo porque es natural con una población joven que sabe más de la Democracia que las generaciones anteriores pero tienen miedo.

  MARIELA CASTRO ríe comiendo langosta ante las cámaras para consumo externo. Pero tienen miedo, mucho miedo, más que nunca, que se acerca el desmoronamiento final.

                                                Orlando Vicente Álvarez

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The great Diva OF Huge mamas of the cuban Revolution

THE GREAT DIVA OF HUGE MAMAS OF THE CUBAN REVOLUTION

   I do not know if you remember the great star or diva that occupied the spaces of the TV, the newspapers and filled with almost sensual praises the speeches of Fidel Castro back in the eighties.
  It was nothing more and less than a simple cow. But yes. A cow that beat all the records of daily milk production in three milkings a day, which were zealously quantified by Castro's flattering veterinarians.
   Ubre Blanca, that's what it was called, was the center of Castro's experiments with the crossbreeding of Holstein cattle a Canadian stallion and a Cebu mulatto creole until they got the big cow, other experiments would come later to get dwarf cows as little dogs that went to have in each house the Cubans.
  There was no cheese, no yoghurts or other dairy products in stores. But Ubre Blanca was the superstar worshiped and repeated every day by the revolutionary media. The people said in a low voice that she was the first lady to pose in front of the cameras as the horse's wife -Fidel Castro- and that from the first milking he stuck to an udder of the bovine to give himself strength in his unsettling seven-hour speeches before the village.
  Fidel Castro spoke on the phone with the famous designer Georgio Armani to design beautiful dresses for the first lady, I say, cow, and to be photographed both on the cover of Vogue magazine. Although he offered a million dollars the famous couturier did not dare to make dresses with opening for the glorious udder and the butt to make their needs. Fidel, disappointed, settled for posing for the magazine Bohemia, which was the only one worth reading for the cartoons that were placed in the last pages.
  They say that they put headphones to her with classical music - she loved Mozart - and an air conditioned atmosphere but she had bad character, the fame was going to her to the head and she began with MUUU very intense and distorted.
   It produced so much milk that it was going to feed a town the size of Guanabacoa. And Castro proud of his cow. He did not give credit to scientists, biologists or veterinarians who did not dare to contradict him in his constant experiments as a hallucinatory tyrant.
  First came to Ubre Blanca unusual cataleptic movements and meowing like an out of tune soprano. They were the first symptoms of the cow that later appeared in the United Kingdom as the mad cow syndrome.
   Until one day the poor cow was born a tumor: Cancer. But Fidel would say the last word: that they keep part of the cow to clone it in the future-Geneticist expert-
   They even embalmed her after her death and made her flatterers, a marble statue of the deceased Diva that monopolized, as queen of the Jet Set, the newspapers and magazines of Cuba.
   No one wept over the dead cow and Fidel went on to another of his experiments.
  Fortunately, at that time the butter was imported from Communist Germany, which already knew by the West the harmful effect on cholesterol and lipids.
   Then it was the turn of Castro's other follies but this would be too long as the reign of the dictator's 60 years.


                               Orlando Vicente Álvarez

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FIDEL: agronomist in chief, physician in chief, cowboy in chief and other more stupides.

FIDEL: AGRONOMIST IN CHIEF, PHYSICIAN IN CHIEF, COWBOY IN CHIEF AND OTHER MORE STUPIDES.

   Taking advantage of the influence that Fidel Castro had on the people - there was no one to oppose his absurd inventions - his proven charisma, his tireless verbiage in front of the TV cameras or the radio, began to interfere in all kinds of matters that they corresponded to their ministers or other responsible parties.

  It seems that no flatterer could speak to him of a new idea for the development of the country that he immediately made it his own and he proclaimed it to the four winds so that everybody could see how wise he was and the hope of the people in a better future did not die.

  First was the matter of Café Caturla whose plantation throughout the island, including the courtyards of the houses, the apartment balconies and the pavements of the sidewalks, would solve the scarcity of grain that was scarce and its price on the black market exceeded that of gold raw.

  I remember as a child planting the Caturla coffee in the gardens of my school and stealing a plant that I grew in my pastyard.

  Of course that coffee failed miserably. It was not for a tropical country like ours and as the true coffee plants of the mountains needed a bit of shade from the giant trees that surrounded them. So we had Café caturla goes, coffee caturla comes, until all the plants died in the country. He did not make any self-criticism but some head rolled. Always blaming other for his failures.

  Then it was the turn of the Zacarina: sugarcane crushed to powder to feed the cattle. The newspapers did nothing but talk about the zucarina. At last a panacea to feed the dwindling cattle whose meat was rationed since the beginning of the revolution and milk even more, only for children. The chief surveyor. There was no one who knew more about Agriculture than he did. Suddenly there was no more talk of the happy food. The cattle, accustomed to the Cuban grass, died with the zacarina. Some other head was cut off.

  Then It  enter the Hit Parade the Zeolite. A kind of small pebbles that were placed in the ulcers of the patients' legs. Then began the speeches of the commander about the benefits of the zeolites and that they were almost miraculous. The members of the PCC when they had wounds or ulcers said: please, antisepsis, nurse, with foreign antiseptics but not, please, with zeolite. That is for the people.

  If he got information about the use of "worms" that devoured rotten tissues in the ulcers, he did not say anything, perhaps advised by a daring minister that the town was thin and covered with worms in the wounds. It was too much, they would think that they were already rotting alive. He did not talk about the worms.

   Then came the nuclear plant in Cienfuegos. This time he was more cautious because the United States told him to be careful. The truth is that they invested 1000 million dollars in the work until they discovered that the area was in seismic area and they suspended it. Disillusioned workers, it was what the commander called with the phrase "Work of Shock" returned home and everything was abandoned.

  Fidelito, a nuclear engineer, had to bear the guilt in silence but Fidel did not have compassion and replaced him as chief nuclear engineer. That was done in silence because it was his son-Fidel said he did not feel filial love for anyone, he was born deprived of that feeling-and Fidelito went into oblivion and became depressed when he fell into disgrace and a billion of the people went through the sewer. Nor was any self-criticism made.

  Before this, the so-called "Swine Fever" had been presented in Guantanamo. All the pigs had to be slaughtered, including the healthy ones - my father had a clandestine raising of small pigs in the grandmother's patio. He presented that he would see each day to feed them and he had to sacrifice them all, we were eating pork until the same smell gave us nausea- Of course some heads fell down because of this, among them, honest men and probos who went unfortunately to jail.

  And the commander in chief: silence.

    Elderly patients arrived undernourished at the hospital emergency room with edema in the lower limbs due to hypoproteinemia or lack of proteins, especially from red meat. They gave little food to their working children or their small grandchildren. They preferred to die before their offspring. And the cuban News in silence and we were silenced by the fear instilled for so many years.

  They invented a new kind of coffee. A mess of green binds with alittle true coffee. The people called rapidilly "Cafe Ñok" because when they drink it used to say "Coño" that is a expression in Cuba of something like shit.

   I went to Baconao in my car with my family and another very close friend and we saw an enclosure of crocodile breeding. Crocodiles sunbathing everywhere. This hidden place was not mentioned in the newspapers or any means of communication. Fine meat for the council of State and for foreign tourism.

  When I was traveling to the Province of Santiago de Cuba I saw some  I saw some small cows of chocolate red color. They say that Raul Castro had brought them and that they were of a strange race, to try to acclimatize themselves and taste that new meat because for the people: nothing.

  And when Castro started talking about medicine. "Fuacata "He had to swallow all the stupid things he said about diseases and treatments. Between us we called him "The Commander in Chief Doctor"

    And when he gave him the habit of importing water buffaloes - to the swamps of STGO DE CUBA or elsewhere, he spoke glories about the new cattle, how well they adapted. Of its meat, milk and even the exquisite cheeses that would be produced. Suddenly he do not speak more about the buffaloes. If it was meat for the people or an exotic for tourists. Neither the newspapers mentioned it and the people, silent.

  Before dying, when he still gave tired speeches and almost without energy, he persisted in his delusions.

   This time it was the turn of the Creole Malanga, a white tuber on the inside that is given to children or the elderly since ancient times. As if the people did not know the properties of the tubercle he was explaining about its properties. Of course, with the hunger that was going on in the Special Period, the Farmer in Chief had to speak and this time talking about a food that had long since disappeared from the state stores and that the cleverest exchanged with the peasants up the mountain. Well, give him the taro. He no longer knew what recourse to use in his speeches. But of the flesh. almost firing if you killed a cow, even if it was owned by a peasant.

  And so he died. With a piece of taro stuck in his throat and "his beloved town" missing food. They cried it with dry tears because nobody wanted it anymore - only those who want to keep their posts in the government - the newspapers do not stop talking about their exploits but never about their lies and failure.

  The new president of Spain Pedro Sanchez recently made a mysterious trip to the island, it must be because of the numerous hotels that this country has in Cuba. The Cuban press, read Granma newspaper, treated him coldly and dedicated a short article about his arrival on his cover. The rest of the newspaper loaded with fragments of the life or works of the missing commander and nothing else. Any resemblance to the North Korean Dynasty is not mere coincidence.

  Ahh. The last thing I found out, that a small northern cay were swarming "deers" as a tourist attraction and that a journalist could taste a dish of meat from the small animal, something dry but tasty meat.

 Could it be that Brother Raúl follows his example but in a more discreet way?

                                             Dr    Orlando Vicente Álvarez
cuban uruguayan
genius

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EL SABELOTODO SE RESBALA : agrónomo en jefe, médico en jefe, ganadero en jefe y otras boberias más

FIDEL: AGRÓNOMO  EN JEFE, MÉDICO EN JEFE, GANADERO EN JEFE Y OTRAS ESTUPIDESES MAS.

   Aprovechando la influencia que tenía Fidel Castro sobre el pueblo- ya no había nadie que se le opusiera a sus absurdos inventos- su carisma comprobado, su verborrea incansable frente a las cámaras de TV o la radio, comenzó  a inmiscuirse en todo tipo de asuntos que correspondían a sus ministros u otros responsables.

  Parece que ningún adulador podía hablarle de una nueva idea para el desarrollo del país que él inmediatamente la hacía suya y la pregonaba a los cuatro vientos para que todo el mundo viera lo sabio que era y no muriera la esperanza del pueblo en un futuro  mejor.

  Primero fue el asunto de Café Caturla cuya plantación en toda la isla, incluido los patios de las casas, los balcones de apartamentos y los canteros de las aceras, resolverían  la escases del grano que escaseaba y su precio en el mercado negro rebasaba el del oro en bruto.

  Yo recuerdo cuando niño plantar el café Caturla en los jardines de mi escuela y de robarme una planta que cultivé en mi patio.

  Por supuesto que dicho café fracasó  rotundamente. No era para un país tropical como el nuestro y como las verdaderas plantas de café de las montañas necesitaba un poco de sombra de los arboles gigantes que los rodeaban. Así tuvimos Café caturla va, café caturla viene, hasta que todas  las plantas murieron en el país. Él no se hizo autocrítica  alguna pero alguna cabeza rodó. Siempre echándole la culpa de sus fracasos.

  Después le tocó el turno a la Zacarina: caña de azúcar triturada hasta hacerla polvo para alimentar el ganado. Los periódicos no hacían más que hablar de la zucarina. Al fin una panacea para alimentar el menguado ganado cuya carne estaba racionada desde el principio de la revolución y la leche más aun, solo para los niños. El agrimensor en jefe. No había nadie que supiera más de Agricultura que él. De repente   no se habló más del dichoso alimento. El ganado, acostumbrado al pasto cubano se moría con la zacarina. Alguna otra cabeza fue cortada.

  Después entro en Hit Parade la Zeolita. Una especie de pequeñas piedrecitas que se colocaban en las úlceras de las piernas de los pacientes. Entonces empezaron los discursos del comandante sobre las bondades de las zeolitas y que eran casi milagrosas. Los miembros del PCC cuando tenían heridas o úlceras decían: antisepsia por favor enfermera con antisépticos extranjeros pero no, por favor, con zeolita. Eso es para el pueblo.

  Si le llegó información sobre el uso de “gusanos” que devoraban tejidos podridos en las úlceras, no dijo nada, quizás aconsejado por un ministro osado que el pueblo estaba flaco y de contra verse cubierto de gusanos en las heridas. Era demasiado, pensarían que ya estaban pudriéndose vivos. No habló de los gusanos.     

   Después vino lo de la planta nuclear en Cienfuegos. Esta vez fue más cauto pues Estados Unidos le dijo que tuviera cuidado. Lo cierto es que se invirtieron 1000 millones de dólares en la obra hasta que descubrieron que la zona estaba en  área  sísmica y la suspendieron. Los trabajadores desilusionados, pues era lo que comandante llamaba con la frasecita “Obra de Choque” volvieron a casa y todo quedó abandonado. Fidelito, ingeniero nuclear, tuvo que cargar con la culpa en silencio pero Fidel no tuvo compasión y lo sustituyo de ingeniero nuclear en jefe. Eso se hizo en silencio pues era su hijo-Fidel dicen que no sentía  amor filial  por nadie, había nacido privado de ese sentimiento-y Fidelito pasó al olvido y se deprimió al caer en desgracia y mil millones del pueblo se fueron por la cloaca. Tampoco se hizo autocrítica alguna.

  Antes de esto se había presentado la llamada “Fiebre Porcina” en Guantánamo. Hubo que sacrificar a todos los cerdos incluyendo los sanos- mi padre tenía una crianza clandestina de pequeños cerdos en el gran patio de abuela Presenta que iba a ver cada día para alimentarlos y tuvo que sacrificarlos todos, estuvimos comiendo carne de puerco hasta que el mismo olor nos daba nauseas- Por supuesto que cayeron algunas cabezas por esto, entre ellos, hombres honestos y probos que fueron desgraciadamente a la cárcel.

  Y el comandante en jefe: silencio.

    Los pacientes ancianos llegaban desnutridos a la emergencia del hospital con edemas en miembros inferiores por la  hipoproteinemia o la falta de proteínas sobre todo procedentes de las carnes rojas. Les daban el poco alimento a sus hijos trabajadores o a sus pequeños nietos. Preferían morir ellos antes que su descendencia. Y el Noticiero en silencio y nosotros enmudecidos por el miedo inculcado durante tantos años.
   Luego inventaron un nuevo gusto para el café que el pueblo rapidamente bautizó "Cafe- Ñok, porque cuando el pueblo llano y liso lo degustaba maldecía "Coñó" o sea, sabia a mierda. 

   Yo fui a Baconao en mi auto con mi familia y otra muy amiga y vimos un cercado de crianza de cocodrilos. Cocodrilos tomando el sol por todas partes. Este recóndito sitio no se mencionaba en los periódicos ni ningún medio de comunicación. Carne fina para el consejo de Estado y para el turismo extranjero.

  Cuando viajaba a la Provincia de Santiago de Cuba veía unas vaquitas chicas y color rojo chocolate. Dicen que las había traído Raúl Castro y que eran de una raza extraña, para probar si se aclimataban y degustar ellos mismos aquella nueva carne porque para el pueblo: nada.

  Y cuando Castro se ponía a hablar de medicina. Fuácata. Habia que tragarse todas las estupideces que decia sobre enfermedades y tratamientos. Entre nosotros le llamábamos “ El comandante Medico en jefe”

    Y cuando le dio la manía de importar Búfalos de agua - a las ciénagas de STGO DE CUBA  u otro lugar, -hablaba glorias del nuevo ganado, lo bien que se adaptaba. De su carne, leche y hasta de los exquisitos quesos que se producirían.  De repente no hablo más de los búfalos. Si era carne para el pueblo o un exotismo para turistas. Ni los periódicos lo mencionaban y el pueblo, callado.

  Antes de morir, cuando aún daba discursos cansinos y casi sin energía persistía en sus ideas delirantes.

   Esta vez le tocó el turno a la criolla Malanga, tubérculo  blanco por dentro que se les  da a los niños o ancianos desde  época antiquísima. Como si el pueblo no conociera las propiedades del tubérculo él se explayaba sobre sus propiedades. Claro, con el hambre que se pasaba en el Periodo Especial tenía que hablar el Agricultor en jefe y esta vez hablando de un alimento que hacía tiempo había desaparecido de las tiendas estatales y que los más listos intercambiaban con los campesinos montaña arriba. Pues dale con la malanga. Ya no sabía a qué recurso recurrir en sus discursos. Pero de la carne. Casi fusilamiento si matabas a una vaca, aunque fuera propiedad de un campesino.

  Y así murió. Con un trozo de malanga atorado en su garganta y “su querido pueblo” añorando alimentos. Lo lloraron con lágrimas secas pues ya nadie lo quería-solo los que quieren conservar sus puestos en el gobierno-los periódicos no cesan de hablar de sus hazañas pero nunca de sus mentiras y fracaso.

  El nuevo presidente de España  Pedro Sánchez hizo recientemente un misterioso viaje a la isla, debe ser por los numerosos hoteles que tiene ese país en Cuba. La prensa cubana, léase diario Granma, lo trató fríamente y le dedico en su portada un corto artículo sobre su llegada. El resto del diario cargado con fragmentos de la vida u obra del desaparecido comandante y nada más. Cualquier semejanza con la Dinastía de Corea del Norte no es mera coincidencia.        

  Ahh. Lo último que me enteré, que un  pequeño cayo del norte pululaban “venados” como atracción turística y que un periodista pudo paladear un plato de carne del pequeño animal, carne algo seca pero sabrosa. ¿Será que el Hermano Raúl sigue su ejemplo pero en forma más discreta?

                                               Dr  Orlando Vicente Álvarez
cubano uruguayo
genio 


LEA


   https://www.amazon.com/Memorias-niño-guantanamero-Guantanamero-Spanish/dp/1520725884