HAVANA, Cuba — Forget Netflix and telenovelas. In communist Cuba, many people still turn to the humble radio for their daily drama fix.

　　Eighty years ago, radio soap opera “El Derecho de Nacer” (“The right to be born”) became an instant hit with its tale of a wealthy Havana patriarch trying to cover up the dishonor of his daughter falling pregnant out of wedlock.

　　The series, which wrung tears out of listeners across Latin America and was later turned into a movie, created the template for the region’s hugely popular telenovelas.

　　The love affair with radio plays, particularly period productions, has endured the advent of TV and streaming platforms.

　　These days, the must-listen-to soap is “Amores en Subasta” (Love for auction), which is broadcast at midmorning every day on Radio Progreso, the self-described “happiness station” which has produced many of Cuba’s best-loved series.

　　Set in Havana at the turn of the 20th century, the series revolves around the maid of a wealthy family who regales her employers every day with juicy gossip about Cuba’s high society.

　　Alexis Castillo, a congenitally blind 54-year-old listener, tunes in daily at his home in eastern Havana.

　　“It’s as if I were living in that period,” he told Agence France-Presse (AFP), clutching his small transistor.

　　Across town, Milvia Lupe Levya, an 82-year-old pensioner, also listens transfixed to the stories of illicit affairs and other misadventures of Cuban nobility.

　　Her radio, which her son brought back from Mexico “about 20 years ago,” hisses and crackles with age, but “the characters and performances captivate me,” she said.

　　The soap, according to Levya, provides escapism from everyday life on the island.

　　“I feel like the queen of the world!” she said.

　　The radio soaps often touch on social themes.

　　A Black nanny comes to the rescue of the disgraced expectant mother in “El Derecho de Nacer,” which gained a devoted following across Latin America, including in Brazil, thanks to a Portuguese translation.

　　Social inequality and discrimination are also leitmotifs of “Amores en subasta,” which delves into the intrigues of Havana’s pre-revolutionary aristocracy.

　　Castillo dismissed the notion that such broadcasts were the entertainment of stay-at-home mums or people with little formal education.

　　“Radio soaps are not all melodramas with lots of sobbing and happy ending,” he defended.

　　“Many of them are historical and biographical in nature and teach you things,” he said, while admitting to a fondness for a “well-written” romance.

　　In Radio Progreso’s recording studio, time seems to have stopped somewhere in the 1950s.

　　A group of actors stand in a circle, before a microphone, and bring their characters to life while reading scripts from a black screen.

　　Nilas Sanchez, an elegant white-haired 76-year-old, has half a century of studio acting under her belt.

　　She said that, despite the streaming revolution, she believed radio plays had many years of listenership remaining in Cuba.

　　“Cuba has a strong tradition of listening to the radio and radio dramas,” Sanchez said.

　　The artistic director of “Amores en subasta,” Yumary Cruz, swears by the recipe of the father of radio soaps, “El Derecho de Nacer” scriptwriter Felix B. Caignet.

　　“Tears, whispers and happiness forever delayed are still very effective,” she said.

　　But inside the studio’s padded walls, the country’s present-day economic and energy crises are keenly felt.

　　为了节约能源，面对反复出现的长达数小时的停电——加勒比海岛屿在两个月内遭遇了三次全国范围的停电——演播室里禁止使用空调，这意味着演员们在表演台词时浑身是汗。

　　克鲁兹还对许多演员离开古巴感到遗憾，古巴正在经历自1959年革命以来最大规模的公民外流。

　　与此同时，这种类型的爱好者抱怨说，他们被剥夺了每天拍摄戏剧的机会。

　　在没有网络重播服务的情况下，精通技术的卡斯蒂略把《爱在苏斯塔》的每一集都录下来，上传到WhatsApp的一个群里，这样全国各地的听众都可以稍后收听。

　　他还把它变成了播客，将剧集上传到云端，以便古巴国内外的粉丝——包括在佛罗里达州的古巴流亡者——都能下载。

　　克鲁兹开玩笑说：“这是单点广播。”法国新闻社