Distance learning without electricity: Cuban students see their "future mortgaged"

The endless power cuts have transformed the young Cuban's nights into intermittent vigils: as soon as the power comes back on, whatever the time, he turns on his desktop computer and works on his practical work, with the constant fear of losing everything during another power cut.

As for interaction with teachers, "we do everything via WhatsApp or Telegram," explains the 28-year-old, who occasionally has access to his partner's laptop, but also has to contend with a battery that doesn't last very long.

Like thousands of other Cuban students, he is trying to follow his courses remotely in a country plunged into a very serious energy crisis due to the American oil blockade.

In early February, authorities suspended in-person classes at universities to conserve electricity. But distance learning faces a daily reality: unstable networks, limited connectivity, and prolonged power outages make study conditions extremely precarious.

The situation deteriorated further last week, with the island running out of diesel and fuel oil to supplement the electricity production of its power plants, resulting in power cuts exceeding 20 hours daily in the capital.

In the same house, her partner, Alfredo Rodriguez, 34, a design professor, faces the same difficulties on the teachers' side.

He is trying to maintain a teaching method designed for in-person instruction, now forced into a digital format.

"There are parts of the program that the students simply haven't seen," he acknowledges.

In fields such as architecture and design, where learning is based on constant practical exchange, the virtual is not just an adaptation, it is akin to a renunciation.

"Direct exchange with the professor, in the moment, is very valuable," emphasizes Alejandro Benitez, who regrets that this space no longer exists.

These academic difficulties are compounded by material problems. At home, he cooks with charcoal, says the student, who hasn't left his neighborhood since February due to transportation shortages.

His academic life and social life are confined to a few kilometers.

Individual discipline

In Alamar, on the other side of Havana, 19-year-old Shalia Garcia, a second-year industrial design student, faces the same difficulties.

"We are not learning all the subjects," she explains, specifying that some courses, essential to her training, have been suspended or greatly reduced.

Professors send schedules, content, and assignment deadlines that students are expected to follow independently, in a model that depends more than ever on individual discipline.

Poor internet access exacerbates the situation. The monthly mobile data allowance available to university students is insufficient for downloading large files, and communication with professors lacks the immediacy of the classroom.

"This teaching method relies more on the student, and that's something I have trouble managing," admits Shalia Garcia.

In her family, the concern is palpable. Her mother, Luisa Odalys Destrade, a doctor, acknowledges that, even though she understands the context, she fears the consequences on her daughter's university education.

"I am very worried, but there is no other choice but to face the situation," she sighs.

Faced with all these constraints, teachers have had to relax their requirements. Submission deadlines are regularly pushed back.

"We cannot demand the same thing when we know that there are students without electricity or without internet connection," Alfredo Rodriguez points out.

In Punta Brava, the days continue to be punctuated by the uncertainty of power outages.

When the power comes back on in the middle of the night, you have to choose between sleeping or working, between managing daily life or university life.

In this ongoing dilemma, much more than just a university year is at stake. "What kind of architect will I become? Our future is at stake," sighs Alejandro, making no attempt to hide his anxiety.