One would have to begin by clarifying that a Cuban citizen cannot go to an office and buy a web domain, neither for private nor for collective use, and much less place a domain purchased abroad on a domestic server. In Cuba, a URL address is an exclusive privilege of state institutions. Not even accepted alternative projects have access to such favors. All this leaves any Cuban citizen with interest in becoming a webmaster with a dilemma: either wait for the day when it becomes possible or turn to those —in other parts of the world— who can help set up a website. ( The Making of Generation Y)

I have been reading Yoani Sanchez's blog Generation Y for a couple of years. Many unknown and grim realities of the Cuban life I have learned during that time. Of course I knew it was difficult, that poverty was quite widespread and that leaders, their decisions and policies were (publicly) indisputable. But, through this blog one sees those everyday realities that include food, electricity, transport, suspicious glances and many more, and individual perspective on officials with their false plans and real threats to their own citizens.

Yesterday's blog post has made especially strong impression. Maybe because of my passion for a written word  but also because it vividly shows how strong is people's hunger for information and entertainment (whose availability we often take for granted) , and how innovative ways people can think of to make their own 'small businesses'. The blog post title put it all nicely together: "For Rent: A Little Emotion". This story is from the period when Yoani for a while lived in Switzerland, several years ago:

"The man entered the small  El Condor bookstore whose shop window faces the wall that borders the University of Zurich. “I am looking for books by Corín Tellado,” he whispered softly, and I jumped in front of the computer where you typed in the latest titles coming from Buenos Aires, Madrid or Mexico City. I detected a Havana accent in his voice, perhaps because he had spent little time in contact with the Swiss-German dialect which would eventually give another cadence to his words. He said he was from the La Vibora neighborhood and that he needed – desperately – some Spanish magazines similar to Hello.
María Mariotti, the local owner, approached him to explain that she didn’t have anything, but it could be ordered from the distributor. “What titles do you want,” asked the small half-Peruvian half-Japanese woman. “Anything you can get. They’re for my mother who lives for them,” he said, trying to justify his persistent interest in romantic novels. He said that not having remittances to send to Cuba, every month he tried to send his family some publications that they could rent to others. Their start-up business consisted of renting magazines like Vanities, or People, for five Cuban pesos, to a large community of readers who were eager to have the latest issues. The clients could keep the magazines for a week, and then they passed from hand to hand until they fell apart and had to be taken out of circulation."

After some more events (you can go to the Yoani's blog) and a gift in the form of printed works, the man was very grateful for what it meant for his family in Cuba: "Well he knew what it meant to be able to add these new volumes to the maternal collection. Their pages would provide a deteriorating Havana house with more soap, some oil, a bit of bread, shoes for the children, along with dreams for dozens of neighbors."

Which reminded me: Maybe you don't have a great plan to help change the world, but if you help a person or a family, that's already a lot. Even a stack of magazines or books can do that.

Photo credit