The building where I live is like a diminutive Cuba, where the larger country appears represented with its vicissitudes and hopes. Fourteen stories that at times offer a biopsy of reality or a representative fragment of life outside. For years, the emigration of young people has marked the life of this ugly concrete block, constructed 30 years ago by some optimistic microbrigadistas* in order to put a roof over their children's heads. The majority of these children, now men and women, do not live on the island today. However, the exodus has also spread to a worrying extent among those of the third age.
A few weeks ago in the hallway I stumbled upon a neighbor whose children left some time ago for the country to the north. Between postcards at Christmas, visits every now and then and nostalgia, the family has tried to overcome separation and the pain of absence. The man of the family, now retired and almost 70, commented to me that he was selling his apartment. "I'm leaving," he said, smiling from ear to ear. Another retiree who overheard, spat out derisively, "You're nuts! Why are you leaving if all that's left to you are 'two shaves,'?" alluding to the possible brevity of the existence ahead of him.
Not to be outdone, the mocked one replied, "Yes, it's true, all that's left for me is 'two shaves,' but I want them to be with a Gillette." With a pension of barely 20 CUC a month, a home that every day shows the passage of time and the lack of resources to repair it, the future emigrant won't be stopped by gray hairs or old age. What is making so many seniors choose to relocate abroad despite age, health and the uprooting of their lives? They also feel the lack of opportunities, the day-to-day difficulties, and -- most significantly -- end up concluding that the social project to which they gave their youth has defrauded and abandoned them.
"All I want is a peaceful old age, without having to stand in line all the time," the determined old man explained to me. For him, his country is synonymous with shortages, problems getting food, an old age of racing to get potatoes and fighting against those who want to get ahead of him in the line to buy eggs. The apartment he built with his own hands for the enjoyment of his children now has peeling walls and a clogged toilet. "With my pension I can't arrange to get things fixed," he detailed.
Even the elderly are packing their suitcases on this island... and from the scale model that is this Yugoslav-style building, old people are also saying goodbye.