La Vivienda (1959) - full transcript
A nightmarish reality for the people,
and a dream of Fidel Castro that
the Revolution continues implementing
with its fair laws and the work of...
THE NATIONAL INSTITUTE
OF SAVINGS AND HOUSING.
THE NATIONAL DIRECTORATE OF CULTURE
OF THE REBEL ARMY presents:
HOUSING
What is a house?
What does it mean to mankind?
A house...
When we get home from work,
the house is a roof
under which to sleep.
When we get home from work,
the house is a roof
under which to eat.
When we get home from work,
the house is a roof
under which to laugh,
to talk, to rest.
The house is
where the neighborhood begins,
the city
and the homeland.
My city is lovely.
With its enormous buildings,
with its cosmopolitan transit,
with its attractive streets,
my city is lovely.
But my city conceals the reminders
of its saddest places.
It's like a mask to entertain tourists.
Not all houses have the same rights.
Not all houses enjoy the same benefits.
There are rich homes
and there are poor homes.
There are several houses for one man,
and one house for several families.
They say that sleeping...
is a human necessity.
But in my city,
not everyone
sleeps under a worthy roof.
My city...
my true city
isn't so lovely.
Without a house...
seeking happiness
wherever it appears...
that's how they grow up
and that's how they die.
The rent... the food.
The budget of the average Cuban family
doesn't allow for anything else.
Only the food...
and the rent.
Without a house...
deforming day by day....
that's how they grow,
and that's how they die.
With neither house nor city
nor neighborhood...
nor homeland.
Sometimes in a year,
they throw out onto the street
more than 60,000 families.
What does this woman defend?
A room without air,
without light.
One room that is a bedroom,
dining room and living room all at once.
A single washbasin for 35 families...
A single toilet,
unhygienic and without water.
What does this woman defend?
Her house...
the right to have a house
after 20 years of working.
Sometimes, in a single year,
they throw out onto the street
more than 60,000 families.
Who has divided this city?
Who is at fault?
Why is it here that
the highest rents are paid?
Why is it here that construction
for the poor has always been ignored?
Why has the black Cuban been pushed
away from the doors of a decent home?
For young lovebirds,
housing has always been a problem.
It has been a problem for teachers,
for employees, for laborers,
for the majority of the population
of the country,
Who is at fault?
Houses of masonry constitute
a minority in our country.
The dwelling of the Indigenous
persists today as that of the peasant,
with an earthen floor, without
electric light, without plumbing.
The tenement houses, the shanty
towns, the huts and slum dwellings,
are seeds in which easily germinate
prostitution and delinquency.
From there come
the majority of our tubercular people.
There live thousands of families
in the most appalling disarray.
Who is at fault?
One day, dawn arrived in my city
like on any other day.
But on this day, something would
transform its streets and its houses.
That day, the streets of my city proudly
received the triumph of the revolution.
Through them, arm-in-arm with
the people, would march the rebel army.
Everything was filled with a
new life, with a new happiness.
The sadness, the fear, the injustice,
the false divisions
fled from my city.
The fault lay with
rapaciousness and egotism.
The fault lay with politicians
who had been offering the
country up to foreign interests.
The fault lay with the investors who had
been thinking only of their businesses.
The fault lay with
indifference and apathy.
But now, with new vigor,
returned to my city
tranquility, faith, and smiles.
That day,
that day, which dawned like any other,
all the houses of my city seemed equal.
The fruits of the revolution
waste no time in arriving.
Many dreams had been
held by the people.
Perhaps none with more anxiousness
than that of the home.
"RENT REDUCTION:
FIFTY PER CENT"
Now the revolution projects and plans
for the classes most in need.
But it neither cuts ribbons
nor does it have philanthropic spirit.
The revolution constructs homes,
striking back at the forces that had,
until now, caused the lack of housing.
It constructs houses
while doing urban reform.
It constructs houses while elevating
the purchasing power of the people.
It constructs houses
while ending unemployment.
Finally, the reality will be
more beautiful than any dream.
And it will be a reality...
that every Cuban will have a house,
and the opportunity to feel
that they truly own it.
Just as they must feel they own
the city and the neighborhood...
and the homeland.
THE END
and a dream of Fidel Castro that
the Revolution continues implementing
with its fair laws and the work of...
THE NATIONAL INSTITUTE
OF SAVINGS AND HOUSING.
THE NATIONAL DIRECTORATE OF CULTURE
OF THE REBEL ARMY presents:
HOUSING
What is a house?
What does it mean to mankind?
A house...
When we get home from work,
the house is a roof
under which to sleep.
When we get home from work,
the house is a roof
under which to eat.
When we get home from work,
the house is a roof
under which to laugh,
to talk, to rest.
The house is
where the neighborhood begins,
the city
and the homeland.
My city is lovely.
With its enormous buildings,
with its cosmopolitan transit,
with its attractive streets,
my city is lovely.
But my city conceals the reminders
of its saddest places.
It's like a mask to entertain tourists.
Not all houses have the same rights.
Not all houses enjoy the same benefits.
There are rich homes
and there are poor homes.
There are several houses for one man,
and one house for several families.
They say that sleeping...
is a human necessity.
But in my city,
not everyone
sleeps under a worthy roof.
My city...
my true city
isn't so lovely.
Without a house...
seeking happiness
wherever it appears...
that's how they grow up
and that's how they die.
The rent... the food.
The budget of the average Cuban family
doesn't allow for anything else.
Only the food...
and the rent.
Without a house...
deforming day by day....
that's how they grow,
and that's how they die.
With neither house nor city
nor neighborhood...
nor homeland.
Sometimes in a year,
they throw out onto the street
more than 60,000 families.
What does this woman defend?
A room without air,
without light.
One room that is a bedroom,
dining room and living room all at once.
A single washbasin for 35 families...
A single toilet,
unhygienic and without water.
What does this woman defend?
Her house...
the right to have a house
after 20 years of working.
Sometimes, in a single year,
they throw out onto the street
more than 60,000 families.
Who has divided this city?
Who is at fault?
Why is it here that
the highest rents are paid?
Why is it here that construction
for the poor has always been ignored?
Why has the black Cuban been pushed
away from the doors of a decent home?
For young lovebirds,
housing has always been a problem.
It has been a problem for teachers,
for employees, for laborers,
for the majority of the population
of the country,
Who is at fault?
Houses of masonry constitute
a minority in our country.
The dwelling of the Indigenous
persists today as that of the peasant,
with an earthen floor, without
electric light, without plumbing.
The tenement houses, the shanty
towns, the huts and slum dwellings,
are seeds in which easily germinate
prostitution and delinquency.
From there come
the majority of our tubercular people.
There live thousands of families
in the most appalling disarray.
Who is at fault?
One day, dawn arrived in my city
like on any other day.
But on this day, something would
transform its streets and its houses.
That day, the streets of my city proudly
received the triumph of the revolution.
Through them, arm-in-arm with
the people, would march the rebel army.
Everything was filled with a
new life, with a new happiness.
The sadness, the fear, the injustice,
the false divisions
fled from my city.
The fault lay with
rapaciousness and egotism.
The fault lay with politicians
who had been offering the
country up to foreign interests.
The fault lay with the investors who had
been thinking only of their businesses.
The fault lay with
indifference and apathy.
But now, with new vigor,
returned to my city
tranquility, faith, and smiles.
That day,
that day, which dawned like any other,
all the houses of my city seemed equal.
The fruits of the revolution
waste no time in arriving.
Many dreams had been
held by the people.
Perhaps none with more anxiousness
than that of the home.
"RENT REDUCTION:
FIFTY PER CENT"
Now the revolution projects and plans
for the classes most in need.
But it neither cuts ribbons
nor does it have philanthropic spirit.
The revolution constructs homes,
striking back at the forces that had,
until now, caused the lack of housing.
It constructs houses
while doing urban reform.
It constructs houses while elevating
the purchasing power of the people.
It constructs houses
while ending unemployment.
Finally, the reality will be
more beautiful than any dream.
And it will be a reality...
that every Cuban will have a house,
and the opportunity to feel
that they truly own it.
Just as they must feel they own
the city and the neighborhood...
and the homeland.
THE END