The Path Depends on Ourselves

The Path Depends on Ourselves / Pablo Pacheco Avila
Pablo Pacheco Avila, Translator: Raul G.

The most important month of the calendar for me is July. Firstly, it is
when my only son was born and second, it was the month that I left Cuba.

Life, without one choosing, imposes change on us. Many times, these
changes are too rough to handle, like crosses hanging over our backs,
but human willpower is limitless.

Just a few hours ago, it was the second anniversary of my arrival to
Spain, and the first of arriving to the United States. I remember that
I told my family after talking on the phone with Cardinal Jaime Ortega
in the provincial prison of Ciego de Avila, "We have to pack our bags,
without even thinking of returning, at least as long as the same ones
who are forcing me to leave are in power".

Fifteen or twenty minutes before boarding the plane with my wife and son
in a semi-empty terminal of the "Jose Marti" Havana Airport, I felt the
strongest of emotions I had ever felt. I found some of my partners in
cause and their families. A nightmare of more than 7 years was ending,
but most of all, it was the illusion of discovering a path with lots and
lots of expectations of living in a foreign land.

Time flies. It goes by so fast that sometimes we do not even notice.
Yesterday, I was being consumed in a prison cell of high severity in
Cuba, and today, right now, I enjoy freedom in this country which has
always lent a helping hand to Cubans.

Now, I look back at the past and I laugh, although with a mixture of
pain- it is inevitable after everything we lived- but I thank God for
all the good and bad things he has given me.

Many of my brothers have found the path, while for others it has been
more difficult, but I am certain that each one of them will find that
route of happiness and prosperity.

Those who are no longer with us will always be remembered with love and
respect, especially Orlando Zapata Tamayo, our martyr. Zapata was the
climax which opened up the iron bars which, during years, kept us in
inhumane conditions for simply thinking differently. His sacrifice
caught the attention of the free world, that world which sometimes,
because of complicity and other times because of ingenuity, was on the
side of those who oppress, on the side of those who have ruined an
entire nation. Of course, the political and economic interests have
surpassed human rights, the rights of a people to live in freedom,
prosperity, and of living like human beings.

Those who decided to continue the struggle from the inside and said no
to exile deserve an outstanding position in the history of Cuba. Not
all of us have the valor of living with the Sword of Damocles hanging
over heads. Supporting them from here is more than a duty, it's an
obligation.

Right now, I dry my eyes off and do so with a bittersweet emotion. I
live free, alongside my lovely wife and my rebel son. I can see my
mother everyday and my two brothers frequently. That, for me, is more
than enough to be happy. However, pain does invade my heart each night.
Cuba is still a slave. Those in power continue ruining it, and whats
hurts me the most is seeing how people decide to take refuge in fear and
double-standards to just end up enslaved.

I look back again and I thank God and all those who have lent me a hand.
I have to look towards the future, for in the past one cannot dwell,
and the future is unpredictable, while the present is magnificent for
me, for I have what I have dreamed of in life.

Translated by Raul G.

17 July 2012

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