The lines in Cuba: a parallel social space

In Cuba, lines are more than waits for basic goods; they are open-air popular assemblies, thermometers of scarcity, and theaters of survival. Emerging during the Special Period crisis of the 1990s and consecrated by COVID-19, these queues have reshaped Cuban society. They represent a national ritual where dignity is negotiated and ingenuity is tested.

Lines in Cuba trace their roots to the Special Period crisis of the 1990s, when the Soviet Union's collapse strangled the island's economy. Scarcity became chronic, and access to basic goods like chicken or soap turned into a heroic feat. The ration book, designed to distribute supplies, normalized waiting, turning the line into a 'democracy of necessity': everyone, in theory, had a right to their share of scarcity, as long as they had the time and patience.

The COVID-19 pandemic exacerbated the phenomenon. Tourism, the main source of foreign currency, evaporated overnight, reducing imports. Already weak national industries slowed further. Suddenly, lines were not for a specific item, but for the possibility of one. People queued guided by rumors and faith. “They’re bringing in mincemeat!”, someone would shout, and within minutes, a human snake of hundreds would form.

The consequences run deep. Time has lost its value: losing six hours for a box of chicken is considered worthwhile if successful; otherwise, it's a wasted day. This distorts productivity. The 'professional liner' has emerged: people like grandmothers or the unemployed who wait for others for pay, an informal job born of desperation.

Tension is palpable: arguments over places, line-cutting, uncertainty generate collective stress that undermines mental health. Solidarity is tested daily. Absurd events have normalized, like waiting hours for something that may not exist. People plan their days, even weeks, around rumors of deliveries.

Today, the line is Cuba's true public space. It is a microcosm of the island: there one finds resignation and inventiveness, rage and dark humor, solidarity and every-person-for-themselves survival. Under a scorching sun or sudden rain, an entire country waits—not just for soap, a kilo of rice, or blood pressure pills, but deep down, for a future that always seems just about to arrive.

Tämä verkkosivusto käyttää evästeitä

Käytämme evästeitä analyysiä varten parantaaksemme sivustoamme. Lue tietosuojakäytäntömme tietosuojakäytäntö lisätietoja varten.
Hylkää