The invasion is imminent. I can feel it. Every day, the American hotheads berate Kennedy for not attacking us. Every day, more Soviet weapons arrive and are made ready for the attack. Every day, our people increase in their awareness of the unique historical mission given our country—to provide the spark that leads to the victory of the socialist, peace-loving countries over the country that is run by the warmongers in the Pentagon.

But our people are not used to this. We all grew up as lackeys of the gringos. They would come to our island, drink our rum, gamble away their money at casinos run by the mafia from Chicago and New York, and violate our women. We Cubans cleaned their toilets and smiled at the gringos and learned enough English to get by, because we could be sure that no American—not even the American ambassador—would learn even one word of Spanish. They made us feel as if we were trespassing in our own country, because they owned most of our country. Rich robber barons from the American Midwest owned our sugar plantations. Rich oilmen from New York and New Jersey and Texas owned our oil refineries. And they thought they owned us, too—the Cubans. It was disgusting.

But now things have changed. I look out my window on Havana and I see a big billboard with a picture of Russian and Cuban soldiers, standing side by side, all of them with red-starred helmets, and underneath it says, “Cuba no esta sola.” (“Cuba is not alone.”) And just this morning, I saw a Czechoslovakian delivery truck with a bumper sticker on it that read, "Cuando piensa en invadir será mejor hacer su voluntad.” (“When they think of invading they better make their wills.”) It was beautiful. Even so, it is difficult to get rid of the slave mentality and to assert ourselves as free Cubans, as people who are more than free, who have been chosen to lead the struggle to overthrow the gringo empire. It is a glorious moment.

Everything is going according to plan. Cuba, which used to be called “the whorehouse of the Western Hemisphere,” will soon be the hinge of the world. Not bad. Not bad at all.

FC