In a nation where cooking has become an act of daily perseverance, the Cuban government is promoting the use of charcoal briquettes as a stopgap solution for meal preparation. This initiative, gaining traction in the mountainous area of Fomento, located in Sancti Spíritus, emerges as a localized response to the severe energy crisis impacting the country.
The briquettes, made from charcoal waste, water, and cassava starch grown for self-consumption, are touted as an "ecological and renewable" alternative according to the official narrative broadcast by Cuban TV news. However, beneath the surface of this sustainability rhetoric lies a harsher reality: the urgent need to replace the gas and electricity once used for cooking with charcoal.
One prominent figure in this compelled transition is Emilio Sosa Pérez, a well-known mailman in Fomento who has ceased delivering letters to lead a small-scale workshop that now produces 20,000 briquettes each month. "I used to ride a bike delivering mail, and now I'm here with my hands covered in charcoal," Emilio shares, expressing pride in the collective effort while acknowledging the hardships: production interrupted by power outages, lack of an oven for drying the blocks, and workdays that start whenever the power returns, even in the dead of night. "We have no set schedule. When the power comes back, we all rush here," he says, encapsulating the sacrifice and instability of this type of state-run venture.
The briquettes are being distributed to households, schools, healthcare centers, and tobacco factories. The government emphasizes their low smoke emission and long-lasting burn, yet the reality in Cuban kitchens tells a story of regression: from gas to charcoal in the 21st century. For many Cubans, this "solution" is a reminder of tougher times when improvising with firewood and makeshift stoves was the only option. The current reliance on briquettes not only highlights an energy crisis with no clear resolution in sight but also the forced adaptation of a population that continues to navigate shortages with creativity and determination.
On Tuesday, June 24, the Electric Union (UNE) reported a power generation shortfall of up to 1,790 MW, with blackouts lasting over 18 hours in many areas across the country. The shortage of electricity and liquefied gas positions briquettes as the last hope for cooking without spending over 1,500 pesos on a sack of charcoal.
Even viral videos illustrate how starting a charcoal fire has turned into a hazardous routine: using petroleum, gasoline, banana leaves, or paper to ignite makeshift stoves on patios or balconies. "This isn't a tutorial; it's the harsh reality," remarked a young woman on TikTok, demonstrating her cooking method.
"Every day we're worse off," "They're slowly killing us," "How long do we have to endure this?" are common refrains in the public's social media comments, reflecting the energy scarcity and lack of real solutions. In this scenario, the briquette is merely a temporary fix in a broken system, another chapter in the ongoing saga of forced adaptation for a people who have already given so much.
Cuban Energy Crisis and Cooking Solutions
Why is the Cuban government promoting charcoal briquettes?
The Cuban government is promoting charcoal briquettes as a temporary solution to the country's severe energy crisis, as they provide an alternative to cooking with unavailable gas or electricity.
What challenges do Cubans face in producing these briquettes?
Cubans face challenges such as production interruptions due to power outages, the absence of proper drying ovens, and the need to work irregular hours based on electricity availability.
How are people improvising with charcoal in Cuba?
People are improvising by using petroleum, gasoline, banana leaves, or paper to ignite makeshift stoves in patios or balconies, turning charcoal lighting into a potentially dangerous routine.