How to Grow Up Thinking the World Was a Rumor

Childhood in 90s Cuba was stitched together from censored TV, blackouts, and whispered glimpses of forbidden knowledge

“Boys Playing Stickball, Havana, Cuba, 1999" by Francesco de Gennaro, licensed under CC BY 2.0, via .

I was ten and already planning my wedding to Mexican actor Fernando Colunga. He didn’t know, of course. But he was mine. On screen, La Usurpadora’s Paola Bracho, played by Gabriela Spanic, tossed her perfect short hair and slapped someone with the kind of elegance only Televisa actresses could pull off. The evil sister was so mean, and I loved it. I didn’t blink. I sat on the floor, legs crossed, neck tilted up at the wobbly screen, volume barely audible because that damn Japanese TV box with Russian parts never cooperated; it buzzed, flickered, and sometimes went blue mid-scene like it had a grudge against my peace.

This was sacred time.

The tape had been pirated through one of those illegal VHS banks using satellite recordings — no Blockbuster, no sign, no storefront, just someone’s back room stacked with black plastic spines labeled in pen. You needed a reference and a recommendation to rent from them, like joining the mafia or something. The first meetings were always nerve-racking; you were scared, and they didn't trust you. If the cops found out they were renting foreign media without government permission, it was…