There's so much I want to tell you about Cuba Nostalgia.
But right now, let me tell you about the maps.
There were three and they were larger than life.
One of the city of Havana. One of the city of Santiago de Cuba. One of the entire island.
The last one was placed just to the right of the Babalu booth, and so we had the privilege of witnessing the following scene over and over and over:
They would see the map and make a beeline for their spot on the map. There was no deviation. It was as if they were following invisible stage directions. Of course, I did it too. We all did. I walked the island with my friend, Reinier, starting in Pinar del Rio where my father's family, the Verdes side were from, all the way to Oriente and Holguin where my grandmother's family, the Espeletas were from. We made a stop in Puerto Padre, where my grandfather's family, Perez-Puelles originated. We walked all the way back to Havana and compared notes about what part of that province we knew and where our families were from. Everyone was doing a version of this "island walk." I loved that.
But every now and then someone else made their map-walking pilgrimage and their commentary went something like this: "Nine years here. Six years here…" They would walk over the map as we all did, talking and pointing. Not to the places where their families had lived, or where they had once vacationed, but to the places where they had served time. Because they were once political prisoners and they were talking about where they had served time in castro's gulag. And this was not just one isolated case. There were so many. So many! It was shocking to me. I know. It shouldn't have been, right? I knew this intellectually, but these were people with faces and families and lives. I felt the impact viscerally. And I couldn't keep the tears from leaking out.
We spent most of the weekend getting people to electronically sign this petition for the release of Cuba's political prisoners. The ones who had done time in Cuban jails were pushing their way forward and finding in us a willing audience for their stories. And you know, I usually don't write about political topics, but I do write about being Cuban and celebrating family. Well, this is not about politics. It IS about families. It's about husbands and wives and daughters and sons. It's about families torn apart because of the courage of a few to speak up against the injustices of the revolution and having their lives ripped apart for doing so.
I'm proud to report that we personally typed in over 3,000 names over the course of the weekend and handed out dozens of CAMBIO bracelets.
Please add your name to the petition.
TODAY.
Especially today.
You see, today, May 20th is Cuban Independence Day.
It was on May 20th, 1902, that the island of Cuba declared her independence from Spain.
And it is today, May 20th, that I have written this, my 500th post, but that's not important right now…..
…..or maybe it is?
CAMBIO.
Of course it is important.CAMBIO.
Marta:You made me cry when we got to in Pinar del Rio and again now. It seemed that every 3rd man that signed the petition had been a guest of the regime in prison. I have been thinking alot about the map and these men. And did you notice that they weren’t the least bit bitter? I mini-ranted yesterday about MY nostalgia and bad memories and yet these men go to CN to celebrate their country, their sacrifice and their hope. They are tryly humbling.Great post!
Before the revolution, Papi was an officer in “El Buro”. Like many officers who saw the injustices and refused to become communist, he was imprisoned at Isla de Pinos. It was at this prison that I was conceived at a one-time conjugal visit in 1960. It was also at this prison that Che Guevara told his driver to run my mother over because she had the nerve to kneel before his jeep as it entered the courtyard and beg for him to allow another wife who was being refused to see her husband one last time before he was shot at a firing squad. I’m told I was a few months old and in a stroller next to Mami when this took place.Mami rolled out of the way as che and his driver laughed and drove away. Papi got out of prison when I was 5. He escaped Cuba when I was 6. Mami and I got the hell out of there when I was 7 and were reunited with Papi in Puerto Rico. I remember that day clearly. It haunts me…IF I allow it. Mami was at the stove making my almuerzo as I at at the table. Behind me, our front door burst open by soldiers, rifles pointed at us yelling “Gusanos, traitors out! You leave the country tomorrow”. Mami was asking the neighbors toi call my grandma to come get us. The officers were yelling at them to not help the gusanos. Someone did call abuela and she came and got us. We spent the night at her house and early the next morning she and my aunt Lidia brought us to the airport where my last memory of abuelita for the next two decades was her falling to her knees behind a fence as her daughter and grandchild entered an airport where she would never see them again.
Hell, I can’t write about this anymore. Too depressing. Sorry about the long comment. Too many thoughts came rushing back I guess.
I will repost this petition on my journal and myspace. Thank you for the link, Marta.
XO and again, Happy birthday!
mario-Wow.
First, do not apologize for sharing from your heart. That’s what I value most in my friends.
Second, thank you for making yourself vulnerable by telling your story. I am too choked up and crying to make any sense here, but I know that every time I hear another Cuban’s story (and we all have them, don’t we?) I get all the more zealous for putting in my 2 cents for change.
Thanks for linking the petition. It makes a difference, my friend.
CAMBIO.
hi 🙂 ok i have to say I’m a new reader. my cousin erika turned me on to your blog. she LOVES it. especially since she moved away from miami to NC to start a life with her hubby and she’s waxing nostalgic. I feel for her. I moved to boston for 6 yrs but ended up coming back.anyway i saw your post about cuba nostalgia. i kinda wish i had known you were going because i would have gone just to meet you 🙂 my parents go to cuba nostalgia every year. maria and carlos gonzalez…just in case by some chance you saw them there. they always win plane tickets by dancing. they dance. thats their thing. they’re well known in certain circles down here. you’ll always see them at calle ocho or any outdoor festival that involves live music.
anyway i was just curious to see if you saw them or met them. they get around and always meet everybody. i wouldn’t be surprised if you guys met each other.