Because we hail from a world shaped by consumerism and the cheap, invisible labor that makes our “lifestyle” possible, most visitors to Cuba are consistently astonished by both the sheer age of many of the objects on which Cubans rely for daily activities as well as their quality. In my family’s houses, like most in Cuba, the silverware, plates, sheets, blankets and pressure cookers purchased in the 1940s and 1950s are still in use today. Here Tío Tiki shows off a gorgeously elaborated dinner plate that my grandmother, a rural school teacher for decades, received as a gift from a student when she retired in 1963. The student had acquired it from a prosperous tobacco-growing family who gave it to his mom as a token of gratitude for working as their cook right before the family fled the country and the revolutionary regime confiscated their land, house, personal affects and all the property in their home. When I asked Tío Tiki if he had ever used it, he laughed: ¿Estás loca? Este plato no sirve para comer. Sirve para refrescar la vista. [Are you crazy? This plate wasn’t meant for eating. It was meant to refresh the sight of anyone who sees it.] Tiki wanted to give it to me to bring to the United States but I left it in Cuba.
