Saludos estimados hiver - nautas de esta atractiva comunidad.
Aquí les cuento esta crónica:
Bajo la sombra de un flamboyán, un anciano nos comparte su confesión. Su voz nos transporta a la bonanza de un pueblo cubano, a sus luchas y transformaciones. Es memoria viva que dialoga con nuestro presente.
Sentado a sus anchas, debajo de aquel frondoso flamboyán que rodeaban ávidos e intrusos cazadores de historias - entre los que me encontraba yo -, aquel añoso señor, con suntuosa vehemencia, comenzaba así su relato, a la vez que se golpeaba con su índice derecho, en la frente:
A pesar de haber transcurrido tantos años, aún revoletean nítidos recuerdos, dentro de esta vieja y dura cabeza…
Y continuaba diciendo: buena parte de lo vivido en su niñez y juventud estaba allí adentro. La bonanza que se vivía entonces era fruto del férreo espíritu de emprendedores que lograron establecerse como dueños de pequeños y medianos negocios.
“¡Había comida, mucha comida!”
Entre esos emprendedores existieron chinos y españoles que, centavo a centavo, se convirtieron en prósperos comerciantes.
El anciano recordaba que no todo era color de rosa: había que trabajar duro, muy duro, y por unos pocos centavos. Él mismo trabajó desde niño.
Su familia era pobre, muy pobre. No podían enviarlo a escuelas superiores ni a la universidad. Solo alcanzó el cuarto grado, pero siempre le gustó leer. Su padre compraba publicaciones de la época y él las devoraba con entusiasmo.
Con emoción relataba cómo, gracias al crédito en la bodega, cada Navidad no faltaban vinos, turrones, uvas y manzanas. También criaban puercos con palmiche y conservaban la carne frita en manteca, pues no tenían refrigeración.
“El vago y el sinvergüenza eran los que pasaban hambre”, sentenció.
El viejo narrador evocó los “aires renovadores” que trajeron tierra fértil y estudio. Alcanzó el 12° grado y dedicó 45 años al sector agrícola.
Al principio parecía que todo resultaría sin grandes sacrificios, pero con el tiempo afloraron fisuras en la economía que no fueron corregidas. La improvisación y la falta de visión impidieron consolidar un camino sólido.
Hoy, jubilado, confesaba que su casa se moja y que poco puede hacer por sí mismo.
Consultando su reloj “Poljot”, concluyó con vehemencia:
“¡Qué lástima! A estas alturas no han comprendido, aún, que urge generar cambios estructurales profundos… olvidándonos del cacareado bloqueo.”
Así terminó la pausada y reflexiva confesión de un viejo “oráculo” que, quizás sin proponérselo, nos llevó al pasado e iluminó el camino hacia el futuro. Nostálgico, se le vio alejarse con lento andar, reincorporándose al trillado cauce de su infortunio.
Cierre del autor":
Este testimonio nos recuerda que la memoria histórica no es solo nostalgia, sino brújula para comprender los desafíos actuales. La voz del “oráculo” nos invita a pensar en el trabajo, la dignidad y la necesidad de cambios profundos para un futuro mejor.
➥ © Copyright 2026 
"The revelation of an oracle"...
Greetings, esteemed winter adventurers of this exciting community.
Here's a story:
Under the shade of a flamboyant tree, an old man shares his confession. His voice transports us to the prosperity of a Cuban town, to its struggles and transformations. It is living memory that speaks to our present.
Seated comfortably beneath that leafy flamboyant tree, surrounded by eager and intrusive storytellers—among whom I found myself—that elderly gentleman, with sumptuous vehemence, began his tale thus, tapping his forehead with his right index finger:
Despite the passage of so many years, vivid memories still flutter within this old, hard head…
And he continued: much of what he experienced in his childhood and youth was in there. The prosperity of that time was the fruit of the iron will of entrepreneurs who managed to establish themselves as owners of small and medium-sized businesses.
“There was food, lots of food!”
Among those entrepreneurs were Chinese and Spaniards who, penny by penny, became prosperous merchants.
The old man recalled that not everything was rosy: one had to work hard, very hard, and for just a few cents. He himself worked from childhood.
His family was poor, very poor. They couldn't send him to high school or university. He only reached the fourth grade, but he always loved to read. His father bought publications of the time, and he devoured them with enthusiasm.
He recounted with emotion how, thanks to credit at the bodega, every Christmas there was no shortage of wine, nougat, grapes, and apples. They also raised pigs using palm kernels and preserved the meat by frying it in lard, since they didn't have refrigeration.
"The lazy and the scoundrel were the ones who went hungry," he declared.
The old storyteller evoked the "winds of change" that brought fertile land and education. He reached the twelfth grade and dedicated 45 years to the agricultural sector.
At first, it seemed that everything would work out without great sacrifices, but over time, cracks appeared in the economy that were not corrected. Improvisation and a lack of vision prevented the consolidation of a solid path.
Today, retired, he confessed that his house leaks and that there's little more he can do for himself.
Consulting his "Poljot" watch, he concluded vehemently:
"What a shame! At this point, they still haven't grasped the urgent need for profound structural changes... forgetting about the much-touted blockade."
Thus ended the measured and reflective confession of an old "oracle" who, perhaps unintentionally, took us back to the past and illuminated the path to the future. Nostalgic, he was seen walking slowly away, rejoining the well-trodden path of his misfortune.
Author's Closing Remarks:
This testimony reminds us that historical memory is not just nostalgia, but a compass for understanding current challenges. The voice of the "oracle" invites us to reflect on work, dignity, and the need for profound changes for a better future.
➥ © Copyright 2026
