A broken bridge, the indigenous name and the feeling that the town of Taguayabón is stranded in the first years of the twentieth century. This is how I saw it three weeks ago when we transferred the blogger virus to Villa Clara province. The amazed eyes of those who had never sat in front of a computer connected to the web were looking through the blogs we brought copies of. To explain Google to them was complicated, because in this place the simple search for a birth certificate in the civil registry is already extremely difficult. Imagine the surprise when they discovered that with a simple click one can list all the references to a fact, a personality, a particular subject matter.
The new technologies in citizens’ hands was the central theme of a conversation Reinaldo and I had with about a dozen people, some of whom came from Camajuaní. When we left to go to another area, a flight of motorcycles—Suzukis*—glided along the small main street and the bordering routes. They interrogated several of the participants of that day of knowledge, intimidating the youngest, and even confiscated a horse that—I can assure you—had nothing to do with the Blogger Journey. The fear extinguished the virtual air flow that had briefly blown over the inhabitants of that Villa Clara land. The restless boys who don’t show their faces returned to play out their role and repeat the same old same old—about the CIA and the Pentagon being behind the alternative Cuban blogosphere. But the germ of WordPress and Blogger had been planted under their skin. Tuesday, some inhabitants of Taguayabón called to confirm to me that, “We want to start publishing on the Internet.”
*Suzuki motorcycles are associated with the presence of State Security officers.