My family moved to the U.S. reluctantly.
When we left Cuba, we didn’t know we were coming here for good. I think that’s a part of our story as Cuban refugees that doesn’t get much play.
When we left our beloved homeland, we (when I say “we,” I mean, my parents) thought it was only a temporary stay until that whole pesky revolution thing blew over. Obviously, it has not.
We began our life here in the U.S. based on the premise that it was going to be sort of a long vacation. Then we began calling it exile. Then there came a point when we knew for certain that there was no going back.
It’s Hispanic Heritage Month. From the 15th of September to the 15th of October, we, here in the U.S. celebrate the contributions of Hispanics to the fabric and culture of America.
For the past few years, here on my blog, I have celebrated the stories of Cuban families who came here and built beautiful lives as proud Americans. I call that series, “Cuando Sali de Cuba – stories of courage and hope.”
Here’s a video of my family in Cuba “back in the day” and in the here and now. Set to the beautiful song by Celia Cruz that inspired this series. The lyrics are especially poignant to me as well as to most Cuban refugees.
That’s right: Refugees. Not Immigrants.
Cuando salí de Cuba
dejé mi vida, dejé mi amor
Cuando salí de Cuba
dejé enterrado mi corazón.
Translation:
When I left Cuba
I left behind my life, I left behind my love
When I left Cuba
I left my heart forever buried in the ground.
That just about sums it up.
Darn you Martica! You said get the tissue ready – it was more like a couple of boxes of tissues! Beautiful video tribute to your family that could beany one of thousands of Cuban families in exile. Love you, but strongly dislike you for making me cry like a baby.
During the Mariel boatlift my husband and I would go each afternoon after work to the Navy mole next to where the boats would come in and dock, and wave hello and shout bienvenidos as each boat would come by. If you came in that way, perhaps we greeted you and your family and you waved back,anyhow you all couldn’t have been more welcome, even all these years later. We love you,Eugene and Rosemary Garcia.Eugene is a Cuban American born in Key West, and I am married to him.
We took many pictures and have an album.
Your family’s faces could easily be replaced with the faces of my family member back in those times. I can hear their stories as I watched this beautiful tribute. Thanks for also stating a fact that many forget; the fact that Cuban are refugees…exiled!
I arrived at the end of 1961 at Miami International Airport.I left my family behind, the people that had sculpted my life. I never saw them again.
I still cry for that girl, who deep inside of my soul is still wanting to go home.
I’m extremely grateful that I came, and that my children and grandchildren have known nothing but freedom, but that young little Daisy wants to go back to her grandparent’s farm in the middle of Oriente, to her family, her horse, her river ………
I also left in 1960 and also did not know I was staying. I had just turned 19 years old and came without my family with a one month permit and once I saw New York City and felt freedom I could not go back. It was a good thing because I was able to bring them here by 1964. We all became U S citizens and never went back, sadly would have loved to return for a visit but it is harder now that I am 78 years old. I will never forget my life in Havana.