<p style="text-align: justify;">By Kate Dries | Jul. 14, 2011. When I first came to Cuba in 1995, cell phone service was so scarce that, after a meeting in which an official had flashed a cell phone from the podium, I turned to Abel Prieto, then the president of the writer’s union, and asked if he had one too. “Oh, no,” he said, “I’m not high enough to be part of the celucracia.”
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