Stories of the Cuban Diaspora- Part 1

I've been thinking recently of all the stories I come across when I read the blogs. Listening to the IBD podcast interview with Humberto Fontova in which he describes his father being prevented from leaving Cuba with the family at the last minute reminded my of my own family stories, one in particular, that of Tia and Tio. I once wrote a story about it, so I'll just subject you to excerpts. Too much, and its like watching someone else's family's home movies.

Tio almost managed to escape the island without incident. Actually, it
was Tio, Tia, and the two kids. The rest of them did, in fact, leave on the
regularly scheduled Cubana de Aviacion flight. Tio did not. You know what they
say about things that are almost. Well, the entire family was sitting in their
seats.
So it is that I picture the family sitting there- nervous, excited- unsure of what awaited them in this new life, where at least my parents had carved a path before them. They were sitting there when the announcement came. Alicia Alonso and her dance troupe had an engagement in the States and needed seats. Apparently not enough people offered theirs, because the next thing they knew, Tio had been bumped off the flight and was scheduled for the following day.
Well, that evening Senor Castro must have had quite a nightmare, being chased by badgers in red, white, and blue pajamas, for example, or maybe an extreme digestive upset caused by hamburgers and fries. The next morning, he announced that effective immediately, there would be no regularly scheduled flights to the United States. Now Tio was in Cuba with no means of leaving, and Tia, who had hitherto never worked a day in her life, found herself a single mother of two with no means of support, except my father that it is…

Years passed with my uncle stuck in Cuba, his family here. Then one day, a strange woman called my aunt. I imagine the conversation.

“I was with your husband on Cayo Anguila before the Milicianos took him
away.”
“Not my husband,” insists the mystified wife. Unspoken is the thought
that he is too meek and mild-mannered to have taken the risk to escape from
Communist Cuba.
“Is he tall and thin? A very religious man? He was carrying a Bible. I have it here. Let me read the inscription.”
At the reading of the inscription she knows is in her husband’s Bible, my aunt feels immobilized, unable to move, turned into a pillar of salt.
This conversation took place in August of 1963, the August I was six. I looked up the date. My first inkling of the tragedia that had hit my family came that night when friends brought me home to an apartment crowded with family and friends, as well as people I didn’t know. They milled about aimlessly, all trying to make themselves heard over the din. Making my way through the crowd, I found my mother in the kitchen. Tears ran down her cheeks, but I couldn’t reach her because she was encircled by bodies in a macabre tarantella. Someone was waving a copy of The Daily News. I could see something that looked like a boat on the back page. It was obvious something was terribly wrong. I was afraid
Somehow I ascertained that Tio had been captured on Anguilla Cay by the Cuban government he was trying to escape. I didn’t know him, as I didn’t know my grandparents, my other uncles, all those left behind. One grandmother used to write. The other grandfather, who farmed a small plot of land before it was taken away, used to send me pictures of my pig, my goat, etc…
That night, I learned that having reached British soil and made contact with the Americans, he and all those with him waited for the American rescue. The next day, they spied a ship. A helicopter made its way to the shore. The castaways lined up on the beach, jumping up and down for joy. The Americans! The Americans! Imagine the moment, as the helicopter nears and they spy not the American flag, but the Cuban, as well as the Milicianos pointing machine guns at them. It is a rocky shore. There is nowhere to hide. They are whisked away. The only ones to escape are the women who had left the group to attend to their grooming. It is one of these who had calls my Aunt.
The British Government protests the invasion of their sovereign territory. The Cuban Government ignores. And Tio, he spends the next years being tortured in prison for the crime of wanting to rejoin the family he had lost when Alicia Alonso bumped him off that flight.

So many stories. There are over a million.

Hall of Shame

After reading the Cindy Adams column, I decided it might be fun to have a hall of shame for collaborators, stooges, and dupes. I'm perfectly open to suggestions. I'm sure there are plenty more. Oh, I forgot Michael Moore. I didn't include the Che-wearing Santana, mainly because I didn't think it would be fair to judge him as if all his neurons were firing.

Kudo's all Around

There are some who find the Bloggers United for Cuban Liberty acronym , BUCL, unfortunate. I'm not one of them. It's always reminded me of a line from Macbeth. In describing the disintegration of Macbeth's illegitimate government, a character says, "He cannot buckle his distempered cause/ within the belt of rule." And so we may hope, it will prove for our very own villain.

All musing aside, however, I'd like to take this opportunity to thank all those involved with the BUCL campaign. Whatever the outcome, they are reasoned campaigns that make it that much more difficult for the msm and the public to ignore us. The Invisible Ones campaign struck just the right note, not too strident, informative, and inclusive. "See, don't you think this is terrible," it says.

There are some to whom these campaigns seem too small, not large enough in scope or participation. It is a beginning, a constructive one at that. There's a children's nursery rhyme that goes
For want of a nail the shoe was lost.
For want of a shoe the horse was lost.
For want of a horse the rider was lost.
For want of a rider the battle was lost
For want of a battle the kingdom was lost.
All for want of a horseshoe nail.

Ojala!

BUCL and a Thousand Bayonets

My belief in anti-Castro blogging grows daily. Once the master propagandist Castro was dishing out his baloney un-checked and gobbled up by the msm (think Matt Lauer sitting in front of the Cabana prison). But now we are on open turf.... and can expose the truths about his lies. Is it easy, No, of course not, but just another reason why we need to stand behind conjoined efforts such as BUCL regardless of our own idiosyncrasies. Just remember a saying believed to come from Napoleon Bonaparte: “Four hostile newspapers are more to be feared than a thousand bayonets.”

So much for Cuban Cigars

I love cigars! One of my favorite past times is lighting up a big old smoke and reading a good book. I frequently come across some newbie who can't stop talking about a "Cuban" cigar, "I sure would love to get my hands on a Cuban" they say. Personally, I would have to question the quality of the crop they produce, just as any other crop they produce (does Cuba produce anything else? Maybe rum and beer). Secondly, I refuse to smoke Cuban cigars because I do not want to support the current government, Third, Habanos SA is 50% owned by the Cuban Governent and 50% owned by the Franco-Spanish company Altadis (another example of how Castro carries on about Yankee imperialism, but it is okay to sell out to the Europeans), and finally it is illegal.

Lou

Cindy visits the Animal Farm

I urge Ms. Adams to read George Orwell's Animal Farm. Although a satirical recount of the Russian revolution, it serves as a perfect blueprint for the Cuban revolution. Just pretend that the fat pig Napoleon is Castro, Snowball could be Huber Matos, the other pigs with the 5 chins could be Lage, Roque, Alarcon or any other brown-noser for that matter, and the sheep that keep bleating "four legs good, two legs bad" are the people you and Michael Moore always run into on the street. Animalism is Fidelismo, and "in the end you could not differentiate the pigs from the humans'', well, you can figure that one out for yourself.

Lou

Shoes over pants

I emailed Carlos Eire recently because in his excellent book Waiting for Snow in Havana, He mentions that his dad used to put on his shoes first then his pants. Oddly enough my dad did the same as well. Im not sure if it is a Cuban thing, but I think that this was done in order to avoid wrinkling his pants while bending over to tie his shoes. Most of my family had a 'belly' and it is very easy to get wrinkled before you even walk out the door.

Lou

BUCL Campaign
Don't forget the candlelight vigil for the invisible ones on Monday Night in front of the Versailles at 8:30. Wish I were in Miami for that one. I've actually contemplated driving down there, but I don't know if I'm up to driving up the 75 in the dark. Maybe.


Che T-shirt alert! So I'm watching The Shooter last night, the one where one of the Wahlberg's is framed for an assasination, and then I see it. The doofy FBI guy is wearing a Che T-shirt. It's a conspiracy, I tell you!

Just in time for my propaganda post, there's another missive from the blogger in chief. Castro accuses the US of hypocrisy. Can't wait to see the rest of it. Tried to read it in Spanish, but its length rivals that of his speeches. The entire first section seems to be a retelling of US History, which I don't need Mr. Castro for, and my Spanish requires a truly concerted effort.

Cinton and the Libby Pardon: Lessons in Propaganda

When I was a teacher, I would sometimes have my students look at the uses and effect of language, the power of the word. We would come across fun things like "the immaculate reception" and less fun things like the use of "ho" and "bitch" in rap music. The more historically inclined might look at Nazi propaganda and discover that they were forced to dehumanize Jews, "vermin," in order to do what they did. But "gusanos" aside, words are only part of propaganda.

Over the years, I've realized one of the most successful techniques is to present a bold-faced lie, one that all know is a lie, and continue to adhere to it. Act as if it is a truth. A marvelous thing then happens: people actually begin to believe what they know to be untrue. Over time, the truth disappears, and the lie is perceived as truth. Fidel learned this well at the hands of his Russian masters. Watching any American anchor's interview with Fidel is guaranteed to send any Cuban American into apoplexy as he rolls off lie after lie. These are easily refutable lies, yet they are given credence by the dupe of a journalist. An offshoot of this technique is that you can then pretend to have the high moral ground on any given moment. Pretend your virtue, and all will believe it.

When he was President, I began to notice Clinton availing himself of this technique. He did not engage in sex with that woman. He didn't lie under oath. It was "the vast right-wing conspiracy." With the Scooter Libby pardon, he and Hillary have outdone themselves. "Cronyism," they cry, the duo that pardoned Susan McDougal and Roger Clinton.

What was it? Let's see. Clinton handed out 140 pardons in his last days in office. The two instances that stand out in my mind are the Marc Rich and those in Horizon Village in upstate New York.
Marc Rich is pardoned: the Clinton's get money for their causes, an interesting coincidence. The people who bilked the government in a student loan scam get pardoned: the entire village votes for Hillary for the NY Senate. Interesting, isn't it. I don't know if there was a direct relationship between the aforesaid, but it smells mighty pungent.

So now, do they cringe in shame, restrain themselves from making any but the blandest of comments? No, they act as if there were no dirt on their lily white hands and condemn the disgraceful Libby pardon, the one that is actually a commutation of prison time. And the MSM, they go along for the ride. And the American public? You tell me.

Oh, yeah, you have to be shameless to be successful.

Stung by the Police

Surfing through the channels tonight, I come upon the cause du jour concerts going on today. None other than the Police are playing. I find that I can't bear to watch Sting. My feelings are mixed: betrayal, anger, hurt.

I still can't understand. They are supposedly playing Havana. I saw that personally on their tour website a while back. It's a concert for their Cuban fans, they said. And while I understand that could be a good thing. Remember the Beatles in the USSR? I have to question it when I see the "Fidel" caps for sale on that same website. I remember Trudy Styler and her nightspot "Socialista." And I ask my self, "Why are Cubans less?" Sting could condemn apartheid in South Africa, publicize the plight of the desaparecidos in Chile with his "They Dance Alone," but somehow what has happened to the Cuban people is okay. It is also okay to ignore or mock the sensibilities of Cubans who have had to flee the country in pursuit of freedom.

It comes to me that perhaps Castro achieved his only triumph in his propaganda, which coupled with the inherent bias of people in the US and Western Europe, has held off world condemnation. As I read the comments section under articles about Cuba and the embargo, I am overwhelmed by the ignorance and stupidity of the posters. For it is stupidity to make sweeping pronouncements about Cuba when you haven't a clue.

Because they cannot conceive that a hispanic country south of Key West could possibly be developed and prosperous, they swallow the Communist line about how terrible things were before Castro, and what progress the regime has made in literacy and healthcare. So what if they get meager rations to eat? At least they're eating. One genius said, "They're still better off than in Haiti." Hello, dope, they were light years ahead of Haiti in 1958. While preCastro Cuba had its problems, it was a developing country. It had one of the hightest literacy rates in Latin America. Oh, and there was food to be had. The present Cuban ration is less than that which was given to slaves in Cuba in the 17th century.

Then there is the embargo which should be lifted according to these luminaries. They seem to forget, or they don't know that Castro seized over 850 million dollars in American- not Cuban American- American assets. I guess we should tell the individuals and companies involved to just forget it, like Spielberg told Cuban Americans to do about their losses. I still want to appropriate his assets and see how he feels about it fifty years later. All those farmers and grain belt politicians clamoring to trade with Cuba should know that the American government is actually protecting them by requiring cash transactions. Cuba doesn't pay its bills, stupid! Just ask Mexico or India. Yeah, by the way, isn't it arrogant to presume that the Cuban economy is in the pits because we don't trade with them? Isn't there enough of a market in the rest of the world to compensate? Gimme a break!

And political prisoners, the ones the Castro regime says they don't have, they are truly the invisible ones. Oh, that's right, they're arrested for things like "pre-criminal dangerousness." Gee, is that like the Tom Cruise movie? Stopping a "crime" before it's committed? Nary a single post mentions them.

Sad thoughts for 2am.

A Blessing

Just came back from four and a half hours at an oncologist's office where I was providing moral support and driving skills to a relative. Earlier in the week, I had called the local hospice to see if there was some sort of waiting list. So I thought I would take some space here to marvel at the kindness we have been shown. When you are given the diagnosis no one wants to hear and the prognosis that is worse than bleak, you feel emotionally battered. It's kinda like what I imagine getting hit with a two by four would be. First, there is the shock; then there is the pain so overwhelming that the outside world ceases to matter. It is at that moment that family members most need to have their wits about them as they deal with doctors, insurance companies, diagnostic tests, surgeons, you name it.

So what a relief to speak with the Hospice. "Don't wait too long. Most people wait too long. Contact us as soon as curative care stops. We take care of everything.: insurance companies, equipment, everything." All of this is said with genuine kindness to a person overwhelmed with the enormity of the thing. Those few words are a balm.

Then we go for chemotherapy where the staff is kind, upbeat, informative. Their very ordinariness is a reminder that life goes on, that whatever the outcome, there is a now to be lived.

Speaking of the World's Oldest Profession

Yesterday's brouhaha over the Times web page reminded me of something. Distasteful as it is to me that tourists take advantage of a cheap vacation on the backs of an oppressed people, it is the sex tourism that makes me crazy. Men who are overaged, or oversized, or just plain defective travel to Cuba where they have young women for the taking. At one point Iberia Airlines had a promo that showed cartoon mulattas tending to the needs of a baby. Wink, wink, nod, nod.

This all reminds me of another book: Mi Moto Fidel; Motorcycling Through Castro's Cuba. Originally intended to be a travel guide to Cuba, the book winds up being more of a travelogue. To give the author, Christopher Baker, his due, after slipping his minders and motorcycling across the country, he makes a real effort to get to know the real Cuba. He does not seem to belong to the earlier category of men and comes to the correct conclusion about Castro, but it is something earlier in the book that caught my attention.

When he gets to Havana, he hooks up with his girlfriend there, who is trying to get him to commit and take her away. Later in the book, her mother has taken up with an Italian who is going to take both women away. She regrets she will have to leave him. He writes about all this as if they were routine, run of the mill relationships. As I was reading, it was like looking at one of those pictures where another picture is embedded in the lines of the first.

The question that came to my mind, particularly in reference to the Eurosludge that takes advantage of desperate young women, was "Do these men think that in a free society with a robust economy these women would have the time of day for them? I'm not sure. I do know that the human capacity for self-delusion is large.

That ain't no lady: Pimping and the Times

Ran across something interesting on Babalu. On their Cuba web page, the Times has a Google ad offering nubile young Cuban women for romance and marriage. Cute, huh? Like one of those cartoons without words.

It is a word that has me crazy, though. Babalublog makes the cut for the links section but is listed as a "rabid Anti Castro" website. Would they dare use the word rabid to discuss any other group? As one comment on Babalu points out, have you ever heard of a "rabid anti KKK" website? No, of course not.

Frankly, in the realm of the Cuban diaspora, Babalu is quite reasonable. And something tells me the paper applies the label to more than a website. So, you Old Gray Lady; you decaying dowager; you whore monger, you, we are not mad dogs, nor squirrels, nor even chipmunks, that is if chipmunks get rabies.

No, we are not mad dogs. We are an aggrieved people who have been doubly wronged.

Check it out:
http://www.babalublog.com/cgi-bin/mt/target.cgi/5577

Then if you feel you must, and I suspect you will, there are some email addresses in the comments section to let the Times know just how you feel about it.

Pavlov's Dog and The Mad Emailer

Conditioning is an interesting concept. Last night shortly after being bushwhacked by the military history channel, I was trolling through the channels and landed on the Glenn Beck show. I noticed Dennis O'Leary ( the Rescue Me guy in case I have the wrong name) was his guest, so I perched there a while. I was watching when I noticed, ohmygosh, was that a guy in a beret on Glenn Beck's t-shirt? It couldn't be. Glenn Beck?

My initial reaction was to make a mad dash to the computer. What is left of my reason led me to sit there and try to make out what was on the damn t-shirt. Unfortunately it was obscured by those banners they put on the bottom of the screen, so it was a near impossible task. I decided A) Glenn Beck would not wear a Che t-shirt under any circumstances B) the figure didn't have a beard and C) it did have a certain likeness to Venezuela's Chavez. I still don't know what was on there. If anyone knows, and I know you're out there, even if you don't comment, please let me know.

It was my reaction that made me laugh. The bell went off, and there I was nanoseconds from high moral dudgeon. Food for thought.

Telling the truth about Che

The mad emailer strikes again! I'll just post the email I wrote the Military History Channel.

I was minding my own business, watching "Sea Stories," when there was a mini
biography of Che Guevara. I must tell you that since you present yourself as a
"History Channel," I was sorely disappointed. The only attempt to be objectively
historical came with the lip service at the end. Not for nothing is Che known as
the "Butcher of the Cabana" (a prison). Is that supposed to be answered by the
sixteen year old saying, "It was a revolution, and in revolutions, people die."
I did not think that your channel would perpetuate the romantic revolutionary
myth. Perhaps you should read Humberto Fontova's Exposing the Real Che: and the Useful Idiots who Idolize him.

What is it with these people? Bad enough the media doesn't do real research, but now the Military History Channel? Gimme a break!

Reads Notes- Part 2

I'm on my way to pick up After Fidel in Spanish for Mom when I remember I never finished Read notes. So here goes: the last few entries are all children's books about Celia Cruz. Me llamo Celia and Azucar are my favorites. One of them (I don't remember which) ends with Celia in heaven where the angels greet her with her trademark "Azucar!" If I'm not mistaken, these two are also bilingual. Oye, Celia, a new one published in April, is more of a celebration of Celia and Cubanidad, if such a word exists. Like many born and raised in the states, I can be Spanish challenged.
While I'm on the topic of born and raised in the states, I've come across a few titles that are particularly suited to introducing or reinforcing a child's Cuban heritage.

The Bossy Gallito by Lucia Gonzalez. Based on a Cuban folktale, the little rooster is placed
against the backdrop of the courtyards and patios of Old Havana.
Drum, Chavi, Drum by Myra Dole. She's written a few, but this is my favorite. A little girl
wants nothing more than to drum in the 8th Street parade, which she is
forbidden to do because she is a girl. Notable for actually having "De Nada,
Monada" in the text. Fun, feminist and very Cuban.
Oh, No, Gotta Go by Susan Middleton Elya. This one is ideal for the little Americanitas next
door. Most of the text is in English, except for the occasional word in Spanish.
Not Cuban, but any one of her bilingual books makes for a great introduction
to the language.

Michael Moore and The Day Fidel Dies

I promised more on Moore (couldn't resist). Started watching the interview with Larry King but then couldn't stomach it (couldn't resist that one either). Larry's starts by congratulating him on ticket sales or some such. Moore positively beams. I reach for the Rolaids and turn the channel. On another day, CNN is actually rerunning the aforesaid, and I hear Moore saying that "they" have no network, no voice, no power, or something to that effect. "Great!" I say to myself. "He's talking about the poor, benighted Cubans." Of course, he's talking about the people in his documentary. I can actually feel the rage.

And that's what I'm thinking about, because at that moment, I actually hated Michael Moore. I, lapsed Catholic that I am, despised Michael Moore and his cheap tricks. I wanted to make pointed comments about his appearance, his girth. I stopped myself, but it reminds me of something-
My brother and I have a longstanding appointment to meet in Miami when Fidel dies. My mother says it's unseemly to celebrate someone's illness or death. I know she's right. Last time my Cuban American compatriots offended the sensibilities of The New York Times and Charlie Rangel among others by dancing in the street at the news of Fidel's illness. Now Charlie Rangel is another one of those characters I don't mind offending daily and the Times, ditto. It really, however, is not good PR.

I couldn't help myself. I celebrated, despite my better angels. I celebrated for my father, for my uncle, for my grandparents, for Celia, for all of the those who never got to see the day. I celebrated because this man who had created a world of hurt for me and millions was finally getting his. And the day he dies, I will feel triumph that I have outlasted the fucker, that perhaps to borrow Ford's phrase, the long national nightmare is maybe over.
That's it, in essence, the death of Fidel is the birth of hope for an entire nation and a people. Lord knows how it will all play out, but his death will be a milestone.

Personally, I'd just like to be in New York, the day Osama dies.

Ragaouna Masr

I'm not much of an expert on Egyptian politics, but there was a front page Wall Street Journal article about the demise of Egypt, from a cosmpolitan powerhouse to a nationalized, equal society (meaning equally poor),eerily reminiscent of Cuba's fate as well. Ragaouna Masr means 'take me back to Cairo' The only problem is that the city to which the story refers, similar to Havana, does not really exist anymore. I look forward to the day that WSJ puts a similar article about Cuba on the front page.

CNN Revisited

Some people never learn, and I guess I'm one of them. I confess I was watching CNN again the other night. In my defense, I refuse to watch MSNBC since it became the official propaganda arm of the liberal elite. I even gave up my old favorite "Hardball" when the Vietnam guilt of the baby boomers who populate it took it over. Any network that allows the self-important snide disrespect of Keith Olbermann is not for me. So I'm reduced to watching CNN on occasion.

Anyway, there I am watching Anderson Cooper when he announces a later segment checking the facts behind Sicko. I'm expecting a rehash of the Wolf Blitzer segment, when I see Sanjay Gupta. Amazingly, Cuba plays very little part in the report. Not so surprisingly, Gupta concentrates on the facts about socialized medicine. Then I says to myself, "Dummy, Gupta is a doctor. Of course."

For whatever reason, although I give the report a D when it comes to fact checking the Cuban system, it's the only report I've seen that wasn't lifted from AP. But then the program was followed by a rerun of Larry King interviewing Michael Moore.... More later

Election Follies: Who's on First?

Now I've seen it all. There is Hillary Clinton, defending the honor of Cuban Americans. See link below:
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,287494,00.html

Wait a minute. Is this the Hillary of Venceremos Brigade fame, whose husband instituted the "wet foot/dry foot policy? And let's see, she's taking on Fred Thompson. Isn't he the only one who immediately responded to Moore's Sicko, exposing the reality of Cuba? I haven't heard a peep out of Hillary on that one. What's a Cuban American to believe?

Something tells me I'm better off taking my chances with Thompson, preferring to believe that he was trying to make the point that Cuba is a possible source of spies, and possibly terrorism, and that he was not referring to the huddled masses.

The same article mentions Bill Richardson referring to how proud he is to be a Latino. I've been following politics since I was a child, and I like Bill Richardson. But I only found out he was "Latino" when he was running for governor, God knows how many years into his government career. I don't hold it against him, because life was tough for Hispanics years ago, and he was blessed with a nice Anglo surname. I just ain't gonna swallow the born again Latino identity.