Patria O Muerte, in its death troes

Amsterdam.

Nuestra patria,

Why should we say,

This is our patria, our home land,

When this Patria, this home land, doesn`t give us anything?

Nuestra patria but our patria does not support us,

In my patria I die of hunger,

That is no Patria,

That will be the patria for some, for the elite,

But not for the people,

Patria means a place where you can scream,

Talk and walk around without getting killed,

A patria is a place where you can live,

Can work, can make your living the honest way,

Where you can make your future work for you,

The tragedy of our people was it never had a patria,

The best prove is the fact that tousants of our sons,

Have left our island for other countries,

To work, live, to survive,

But they have no patria,

That is why we have to establish the republic.

This is a extract from El Comidante`s famour speech in Camaguey on 4 jan. 1959 soon after his predecessor Batista had fled the capital Havana for the avanging rebel force, Fidel Castro was on the move, things where about to change for Cuba, RADICALLY!!!!

I remember listening to Fidel`s speeches "Patria O Muerte" struggling with the strong cuban accent, using his tirades as stuy material for my self study spanish.

Over the years with my spanish getting better and better, understanding more and more of this man`s inflamatory anti-kapitalism rhetory...well, it started to make me think about the ways of life, the ways of the grown-ups.

This fat around the mid section and well bearded man in camouflage army garb, big cuban sigar in the mouth corner as though he loved showing off the cuban number one export produce.

Needless to say his rule became absolete, just another dictature, an other country ruled by the elitists who live it up while the uneducated masses pay for their greet.

The famous Gamaguey speech by El Comadante Fidel Castro in 1959 has collapsed in on itself, nothing has changed in Fidel`s communist/socialist utopia.

Millions of impoverished cubans have fled the island state risking their lives in shaky wooden boats rotten to the core hoping to make it to the hunderts of thousants of cuban refugees allready living in Miami.

Foget about the freedom of speech in Cuba, you get rapped upon by the countless regime spies and end up in prison, torture to your body and not seeing the warm rays of the caribean sun aymore in your life.

Young school girls selling their bodies for a feww meagre american green backs to h*rny tourists the world over.

The avarage cubano/cubana person doesn`t have a patria anymore, instead they live in an island prison surrounded by wild caribean seas where the hungry sharks are happily awaiting the brave in their rickety boats.

Fidel himself these days has changed his military greens for a jogging suit making only rare appaerances on TV while his brother Raul continues the brutal reign of the protection of the rights of the cuban elitists.