According to The Economist, this does not change the macroeconomic forecasts on Cuba, ‘but it will be a relief for the government’.

The regime in Havana has grossed over $ 700 million, since August 2013, on medical services in Brazil, according to an analysis of the British weekly The Economist.

Some 11,456 Cuban professionals participating in the program More Doctors, Brasilia organized by the mediation of the Pan American Health Organization (PAHO).

Brazil pays each participant a monthly salary of about $ 4,500 through PAHO entity transferring the money to the Cuban government, after charging an administrative fee of 5%.

Havana only pays doctors a monthly salary of $ 1,245 and pocketed the rest.

The agreement has been strongly criticized by opponents and experts from both countries, due to the conditions of semi-slavery posed.

The Economist notes that Cuba has 440,000 health professionals, of which about 50,000 serving in 66 countries. Half in Venezuela.

“The agreements with other countries are similar to that of Brazil: Cubans earn less than local doctors and the rest of your salary is transferred to the Cuban government,” the weekly.

Currently, sales of services abroad is the largest foreign exchange earner of Cuba. In 2014, Havana estimated a revenue of 8,200 million.

The Intelligence Unit of The Economist explains that the renewal of the program, from Brazil, does not change its macroeconomic forecasts on Cuba, “but it will be a relief for the government.”

The Economist/DiariodeCuba/InternetPhotos/TheCubanHistory.cvom
THe Cuban History, Hollywood.
Arnoldo Varona, Editor

OUR HEROES ARE OTHERS.
By Victor Ariel González, La Havana.

I was never interested in knowing who was Nguyen Van Troi. It is not averse to the Vietnamese, whose name took was my elementary school. Only it did not matter what a “fighter against imperialism” and such ceremonies as common as artificial.

NGUYEN VAN TROI.

Every day he had to do his name the same pitiful tune ended with a scream: “He cried out alive VIVA Ho Chi Minh”. As a defense mechanism, I disconnected my senses and fell into a trance. When returning from the cloud was already in the classroom, the morning was over and the photo of Nguyen had been no public, forgotten in a corner of the huge central courtyard.

None of my classmates classroom commented anything about the event during the day. Nobody said: “While we saw what was the anthem today?”. Obligatory tribute to Nguyen, teque as any of its kind, was contrary to the concerns of a child.

Our heroes were others. Mine were home to my judgment at the end of the day after tiresome ideological bombardment. So any character in the games that my brother got for our old Nintendo was more valuable than a young across the world. And if ever a political act a doll dressed as Uncle Sam burned sickly-the hatred is inculcated in Cuba since ages tempranas-, afternoon saw me running to my house to take a home match with MLB New York Yankees or play Super Mario for the umpteenth time.

Moreover, for indoctrination is effective must be applied thoroughly and to our teachers drew him to the subject’s foot. Nor for that they were trova, having so many problems to solve at home. Ran half of the 90 and the only one worried about “keep the spirit” was the director, who on more than one occasion stopped ode to Nguyen, we took a dirge to the thousand children trained under his office and sent to sing the hymn “correctly”. That meant sing loudly and with annoyance, then yes bawling by so ended the tragedy. Just for that I ever sang, as a small machine with scarf and precise instructions, when it was normal mouth moved soundlessly.

Nguyen Van Troi, for all purposes a Vietnamese more heartfelt tribute found in a Cuban school. The funny thing is that somehow I have not managed to forget that awful song that did it.

14Ymedio/Victor Ariel Gonzalez, La Habana/InternetPhotos.
The Cuban History, Hollywood.
Arnoldo Varona, Editor.

CUBA PHOTOS.

NUESTROS HÉROES SON OTROS.
Por Victor Ariel Gonzalez, La Habana.

Nunca me interesó saber quién era Nguyen Van Troi. No se trata de aversión hacia el vietnamita, cuyo nombre tomó la que fue mi escuela primaria. Solo que daba igual lo de “luchador contra el imperialismo” y ese tipo de ceremonias, tan comunes como artificiales.

NGUYEN VAN TROI.

Todos los días debía cantar en su nombre la misma lastimosa melodía que terminaba con un alarido: “Y gritó ¡viva Ho Chi Minh!”. Como mecanismo de defensa, yo desconectaba mis sentidos y caía en una especie de trance. Cuando regresaba de la nube ya me encontraba en el aula, el matutino había acabado y la foto de Nguyen se había quedado sin público, olvidada en un rincón del enorme patio central.

Ninguno de mis compañeros del aula comentaba nada sobre el acto durante el resto del día. Nadie decía: “¿Vieron qué bien nos quedó el himno hoy?”. El homenaje obligatorio a Nguyen, como cualquier teque de su tipo, era contrario a las inquietudes de un niño.

Nuestros héroes eran otros. Los míos estaban en casa para hacerme justicia al final del día después del cansino bombardeo ideológico. Así, cualquier personaje de los juegos que mi hermano consiguiera para nuestro viejo Nintendo tenía más valor que un joven al otro lado del mundo. Y si alguna vez en un acto político se quemaba un muñeco vestido como Tío Sam –el odio enfermizo en Cuba trata de inculcarse desde edades tempranas–, por la tarde me veía corriendo a mi casa para echar un partidito de MLB con los New York Yankees o jugar Super Mario por enésima vez.

Además, para que un adoctrinamiento sea efectivo debe ser aplicado a conciencia y hasta nuestros maestros le sacaban el pie al asunto. Tampoco ellos estaban para esa trova, habiendo tantos problemas por resolver en casa. Corría la mitad de los 90 y la única que se preocupaba por “conservar el espíritu” era la directora, que en más de una ocasión detuvo la oda a Nguyen, nos echó un responso a los mil niños formados bajo su oficina y mandó a cantar el himno “correctamente”. Eso quería decir cantarlo a voz en cuello y yo, con fastidio, entonces sí berreaba por tal de que terminara la tragedia. Solo por eso alguna vez lo canté, como una pequeña máquina con pañoleta e instrucciones precisas, cuando lo normal era que moviera la boca sin emitir sonido alguno.

Nguyen Van Troi, para todos los efectos un vietnamita más, no encontró homenaje sentido en una escuela cubana. Lo gracioso es que de alguna manera yo no he conseguido olvidar aquel espantoso himno que le hacíamos.

14Ymedio/Victor Ariel Gonzalez, La Habana/InternetPhotos.
The Cuban History, Hollywood.
Arnoldo Varona, Editor.