My old man, my beloved old man./ Now you walk clumsily/ as if forgiving the wind./ I am your blood, my old man./ I am your silence and your time. José Tcherkaski and Piero Until now my father’s death has been the most intense pain I have felt in my life. An unknown blow. The onslaught was so penetrating that I felt out of breath, defenseless, lost, in a foul mood…. Jesús, my old man, died after a battle against Alzheimer’s, that disease of the cerebral nervous system still of an unknown cause, diagnosed to a new person in the world every three seconds and that, according to the World Health Organization, today affects one out of every eight persons older than 65 years. The “German,” as that disease is called in popular jargon due to the nationality of Aloysius “Alois” Alzheimer, the psychiatrist and neurologist that identified for the first time in 1901 the symptoms of that disease, is more common than we think. Just as it is also normal to think we won’t be affected by it. But if it “affects you,” the hard times that are drawing near for the patient and his family environment are...

On its route to Santiago de Cuba the caravan transporting the ashes of Fidel Castro arrived yesterday to Holguín. At 4 pm of December 2 the guerrilla president was again in the land of his birth. There, countenances, babes-in-arms and the doves that once again overflew shuddered. Previously, on Wednesday November 30, the mortal remains of Fidel Castro arrived in Santa Clara. The caravan made a stop in the city where the ashes of Che Guevara rest in a monument built to him and his comrades-in-arms, where the urn made of cedarwood which left from Havana on Tuesday was guarded by a vigil of honor during the entire night. On January 6, 1959, the Caravan of Freedom arrived in that provincial capital. Almost 60 years later the people of Santa Clara took to the streets of their city, now to receive the funeral cortege en route to Santiago de Cuba. Santiago, Moncada, sentry post 3 Photo: Kaloian Santos Cabrera All the streets in the city seemed deserted except for the 17 km stretch through Santiago de Cuba of the caravan with the mortal remains of Fidel Castro. I walked through those empty streets to take a series of photos. Only...

There were many goodbyes for Fidel Castro. Everyone bid him farewell in his/her way, as they could, as they knew. The most diverse tributes were there, as well as the most beautiful contrasts: a table football with a photo of the guerrilla president at its base, a flag in someone’s hair, the face of a child on the shoulders of the father. The look of a man whose hair is going grey and another holding the image of Fidel, again, on board the yacht.