One such exile is JoAnne Deborah Byron better known as Assata Olugbala Shakur.  Assata Shakur, an African American, has been indicted for murder, armed robbery and kidnapping.  She was convicted in 1977 for the murder of a New Jersey State Trooper.  She was involved in a shootout on the New Jersey Turnpike in which Trooper Werner Foerster was shot and killed.

Born in Queens, New York Shakur had a somewhat restless youth.  She graduated from The Community College Of New York (CCNY) where she joined the Black Panthers and the Black Liberation Army. She was involved in numerous criminal activities and became involved in an FBI manhunt in 1972, which eventually led to the incident on the New Jersey Turnpike.

After her conviction for first degree murder, Shakur was incarcerated in the Clinton Correctional Facility for Women in New Jersey.  Her treatment was criticized by human rights groups.  However in 1979 she escaped and eventually made her way to Cuba in 1984 where she sought political asylum.  The FBI has declared her to be a domestic terrorist and has offered a million dollars as reward for her capture.  All attempts to extradite her, including letters to the Pope, have failed.

While in exile in Cuba Shakur wrote a book called “Assata: In Her Own Words” in which she expresses her political views.  She claims to be an escaped slave of the political repression imposed by the US government towards people of color.  Her life has also been portrayed in literature, film, and song and as a side note, she is the step-aunt of the deceased hip hop artist Tupac Shakur.

Unlike the Cuban exiles in this country who yearn to someday return to the land of their birth, there is no such consolation for those that escape criminal prosecution.  All they will ever have is the sad existence of being a fugitive on the run.  For those seeking exile in Cuba as an alternative, they are only trading one prison for another.

Recently there was the case of Colton A. Harris-Moore, the “Barefoot Bandit.” “Colt,” as he was known by the followers of his exploits, was a teenager who committed numerous burglaries while being barefoot.  He was arrested in The Bahamas this past July after crash landing a plane he had stolen.  If he had only known about the Cuban Exile In Reverse Thing he would still be at large today.  Quite frankly I think he is better off

You see I went to the doctor the other day for my six month physical.  I don’t like going to the doctor especially when there is nothing wrong with me.  Because I have high blood pressure I have to be on medication.  So every time my prescriptions run out I have to go back and visit the doctor.

Anyway at this visit my doctor tells me that everything is fine but he is concerned about my blood’s sugar level.  According to the lab report it was at .6  four points below the danger mark.  Since my mother died from complications from diabetes, my doctor was concerned.

After reading me the riot act.  I went home rather upset because I try to be very careful about what I eat.  Unfortunately like most latins I eat my share of starches which unfortunately break down into sugar.  And I have to admit that I have somewhat of a sweet tooth.   Now don’t get me wrong I’m not a candy freak and I don’t take five spoonfuls of sugar with my coffee either, but I love my cookies, cakes and ice cream.  Which started me thinking.  How and where did I acquire this desire for sugar?

The first memories that I have  for quenching my sweet tooth was when I raided my grandmothers cub board.  As I have mentioned previously somewhere in another post, both my parents came from small towns known as “centrales” where refineries processed the sugar cane to produce sugar.  Well my grandmother kept a can of sugar up on the top self of a cabinet.  Now this wasn’t the white granulated sugar one buys in the store today.  This was unrefined rock hard brown sugar.   I would climb up on the counter to grab a handful of that delicious sweet concoction that would melt in your mouth.

I also remember exploring the railroad yards  by the “ingenio,” or refinery, and watch box car after box car get filled with the processed brown sugar.  You could smell the sweetness.  As a matter of fact the whole “central” would always have a sweet smell to it.

Besides the sugar refineries there was the  candy companies to deal with.  I had an uncle who worked in a Nestles plant near the  town of Banes.  Every time he would come to visit he would bring one of my favorite sugar concoctions – “leche condensada” – condensed milk.  Cubans use condensed milk to make such things as flan and crema de vie.  But me being a sugar conousieur,  I would pour it on almost anything.  I would even eat it straight out of the can.  I didn’t realize it then, but I had a problem.  The situation got worse when I came to the US.  My best friend’s family owned a Cuban bakery.  I would hang out there after school and on weekends having my fill of pasteles de guayaba and other pastries.

It seems however that most Cubans have this fascination with sugar.  Its more than a fascination.  Its an addiction that has been nurtured since childhood.  Just how many teaspoons of sugar does a Cuban put in his coffee is a perfect example of my dilemma.

So as I sit here sipping my coffee with one sugar, I’ve come to realize that there is no easy solution to my problem.  This Cuban thing I have with sugar is going to require some kind of intervention or support.  I wonder if there are Cuban sugar support groups?

Marti spent 15 years of his exile living in New York where incidentally  there is another statue  of him, also in Central Park.  I remember first seeing this statue as a kid when my father took me to see a Thanksgiving Day parade.  It’s located just a few blocks east of Columbus Circle on Central Park South.  This impressive statue of Marti riding a galloping horse was created for the City of New York by sculptor Anna Vaughn Hyatt Huntington in the early 1950′s.

Just across the Hudson River in New Jersey there are two busts of the Cuban hero.  One is located in West New York, which boasts one of the largest Cuban populations in the US next to Miami.  This statue was created by Manuel  Rudolfo Tardo who was a native of Matanzas, Cuba.

I discovered the other bust of Marti while having lunch in The Ironbound section of Newark.  This one can be found in a small triangular park directly across from Newark Penn Station.  What is interesting about this small statue is its location.  The neighborhood is not Cuban but Portuguese and Brazilian.  Also no one knows who the sculptor is.

Of course there are many statues of Marti in Cuba.  One of which is over a hundred years old. There are about a dozen here in the States.  So what is so fascinating about this man to Americans?  Martí dedicated his life to the cause of Cuban independence and perhaps it was his belief in the pursuit of freedom, liberty, and democracy, that are so prominent in his works, that also inspires Americans.  He was killed at the battle of “Dos Rios” on May 19, 1895.

Here’s a little bit of trivia regarding Jose Marti: From one of his poems was adapted to the song, “Guantanamera,” which became the definitive patriotic song of Cuba.  His grandson was the actor Cesar Romero best known as the “Joker” in the TV series Batman.

Unlike most of the harrowing stories one reads about Cuban refugees that come to this country, mine was somewhat uneventful.  I was four years old when I left Cuba  with my mother in 1955.  We flew “Cubana de Aviacion” from Havana into Idlewilde Airport (JFK) on a very cold November night.  My father, who had come several months before, met us and took us to our new home. My father had rented a room from a nice Puerto Rican lady who owned this  huge apartmment on Riverside Drive.

We eventually moved into our own apartment on 135th. Street (highlighted on the left.)  I remember that my parents worked very hard  and saved their money so that we could go back to Cuba each year.  At the beginning of each summer my mother would take me to Cuba so that I could spend time with my grandparents. My father would then come at the end of summer to bring me home.

I remember that there were a few mishapps on those trips.  For one thing my grandparents lived in a small town in Oriente Province, which was a good 12 hour bus ride from Havana.  On one of those trips the bus was involved in an accident in which I ended up losing my two top front teeth.  On another occasion on our plane ride down to Cuba our plane had to make an emergency landing in Miami because one of our engines had caught fire.

After 1960 relations between Cuba and the United States quickly disintegrated.  In April of the following year the botched invasion of the Bay Of Pigs occurred and then came the Cuban Missle Crisis in 1962.  My parents, like so many other Cubans in the US at the time, managed to return to Cuba to bring their families much needed necessaties, but I never returned.  As a matter of fact, I never saw my grandparents or other family members again.

Well this coming summer all that will change.  You see my daughter has always dreamed of visiting the land where her father came from. So last year we started thinking about actually making the trip.  Currently my daughter is attending graduate school at Ohio State and as it so happens, she applied for a study abroad grant in Cuba to study dance.  Since President Obama relaxed the travel restrictions to Cuba last April, we thought that this would be a perfect  opportunity for us to reconnect with our Cuban Thing.

After my father’s death I had rummaged through his personal items and came across the email address of a cousin of mine in Cuba.  This cousin is a retired doctor in Havana who apparently has the benefit of having computer access.  So I sent him an email telling him about our plan to visit Cuba this coming year.  He was ecstatic to hear from me and in the several emails that we have exchanged

The course that my daughter will be attending will last about a month.  During that time I plan to go into the interior of the country and visit the towns where my father and mother came from.  My cousin will accompany me on this journey and hopefully I will find some relatives and friends along the way.  It should prove to be quite an adventure.

I just finished watching the latest episode of “Castle” which I found appropriate to mention on My Cuban Thing because it actually had to do with Cuba.  For those who are not familiar with the program  it’s just a typical police/drama murder investigation type TV show.  I enjoy it because of it’s a light heartedness and the inter-relationship between the two main characters (Nathan Fillion from “Firefly” and Stana Katic.)

As far as I can remember the last time a TV program had a plot that had anything to do with Cuba was “I Love Lucy.”.  This episode of “Castle” had to do with the murder of an exiled Cuban baseball player.  It took place in the Spanish Harlem section of New York City, which incidentally is not a “Cuban” neighborhood, and the run down of the usual “Cuban” suspects which had non-Cuban accents.  Though the story line and its  characters were somewhat superficial and can be easily opened to criticism, it was interesting to see a topic dealing with “Cuba” appearing on a prime time TV show.

There are many troublesome situations in the world today, the tragic earthquake in Haiti being one of them.  TV programs often portray many of these problems in their story lines to stay in touch with reality.  However the US embargo on Cuba has been an issue that has been going on for more than fifty years.  As light as it may have been, the “Castle” episode at least brought Cuba to Prime Time.

Since President Obama took office last year some changes have taken place.  Today Cuban Americans can travel to Cuba to visit their families, but more needs to be done.  Hopefully “Prime Time” television will bring this issue to light.  The embargo must end.

It seems that back in 1960 Fidel came to New York to attend the opening session of the United Nations.  He stayed at the Hotel Theresa, which is located in Harlem.  I remember this because, as a young boy, my father had taken me to 125th. Street in hopes of maybe getting a glimpse at the Cuban revolutionary.  I can still remmember the crowds and how they converged on the hotel.  But we never got to see Castro.

After he spoke at the UN  and before heading back to Cuba, Fidel made a few stops.  One was to the Lawrenceville School in Lawrenceville, NJ where he came to give another speech.  All my friend can remember from that day, he was only about eight or nine years old at the time, was how the school rolled out a red carpet and how Fidel threw a lit cigar on the carpet and then crushed it with his boot, as he stepped out of the car.  At least my friend got to see Castro.  All I saw was a window of a hotel room in Harlem where supposedly Fidel Castro was staying,  but after speaking with my friend I was reminded of another “Almost  Castro” situation I had.

A few years ago I worked as a consultant to the Port Authority of NY & NJ.  There were several Cubans who worked on my floor.  One of them was an older gentleman named Frank, who I would have lunch with on occasion.  Frank was a tall, slender person in his mid to late 60′s.  He would always talk about his planned retirement or his home in Westchester.  But what I found slightly strange was that he almost never mentioned Cuba, except that he was from Oriente Province.

One day I happened to mention to my dad, who was living with me at the time,  that I had lunch with a fellow Cuban from Oriente.  My father’s curiousity was aroused.  He asked me several questions about my friend Frank which I couldn’t answer.  The only thing that I knew was that his last name was Diaz- Balart.  My father’s jaw dropped.  He looked at me and asked “your friend’s name is Frank Diaz-Balart?  Do you know who your friend is?  Your friend is Fidel Castro’s ex father-in-law”?

The next day I asked Frank about my father’s revelation.  All he said was “there just are somethings that a man does not talk about”.  But my dad was wrong, for Frank went on to explain that he was not Fidel’s father in-law.  He was the brother of Mirta Diaz-Balart Fidel Castros first wife.  I kept having lunch with my friend and every once in a while he would bring in some old newspaper clippings and photographs from Mirta’s wedding to Fidel and from the baptism of his nephew Fidelito.

The name of Diaz-Balart was a name well known in Cuban politics.  Rafael Diaz-Balart was elected to the Cuban House of Representatives in 1936.  He died in Key Biscayne, Florida in 2005. He was the father of Rafael Lincoln Díaz-Balart y Gutiérrez (a Majority Leader of the Cuban House of Representatives), Frank Diaz-Balar (my friend) and Mirta Diaz- Balart (Castro’s former wife) . Today Licoln Diaz-Balart, his grandson, is a United States Congressman from Florida.

I no longer work with the PA and Frank finally retired, sold his house in Westchester and moved to Florida to be closer to his family in Florida.  It’s the Cuban Thing to do.

There was no Christmas Eve in Cuba and there was no opening or giving of presents.  At least not on that day.  The night of December 24th. is known as “Noche Buena” or the good night.  It is the celebration of the birth of Christ.  The celebration consisted of large quantities of food and drink with the main course being the “pernil,” or pork.

Today most Cuban-American households prepare a pork roast as the “pernil” main course, but to do it the traditional way a fully dressed pig would be used.  The pig would be prepared then placed in a pit for cooking.  A China box is the most convenient way of cooking a full pig today, though there are many other imaginative ways of doing it.  Once cooked  the outer skin layer would have a rather crispy texture.

There was always plenty food to go around, but what I remember from those days was the “flan“ and the “crema de vie.“  Everyone is familiar with flan. Crema de vie is a concoction made with condensed milk, eggs and rum. In Puerto Rico it is called “coquito” but Cubans don’t use the coconut. It’s a pretty potent drink.

Speaking of rum.  When it comes to celebrating no one can celebrate like a Cuban.  Cubans are party animals to the bone and will find any reason to party.  And the there cannot be a Cuban celebration without Bacardi Cuban Rum.  Yes that’s right before Bacardi became Puerto Rican rum it was a Cuban Thing, but that’s another story.

Oh about the presents.  Christmas is all about presents.  But in Cuba and most Latin American countries the presents are not given out until January 6th.,  the day of the Epiphany.  This is the day that the three kings (los tres reyes magos) visited the new born Christ child and presented him with their gifts.

Feliz Navidad

The passengers, who were all Jewish, had been expelled from Germany.  They were allowed to board the St. Louis as a last ditch effort to escape Nazi tyranny.  Upon arrival in Havana Harbor, and after much negotiation, the passengers were not allowed to disembark.   Many other countries refused to accept the ship’s human cargo, including the United States.  No one is exactly sure what were Cuba’s true reasons for denying entry.  However, this denial gave Adolf Hitler the reason he needed to begin the extermination of the Jews of Europe.

Though there was much anti Semitism in the world at the time of this incident, there is no reason to believe that this was the case in Cuba. There had always been a large Jewish community in Cuba.  Jewish ancestry in Cuba goes back to the late 15th. century, when they fled the Spanish Inquisition.  Their community grew and thrived on the island up until Castro’s take over.  At one time there were over 15,000 Jews and five synagogues in the city of Havana.  Today there is only one synagogue with no rabbi.

When Castro’s communist government nationalized the businesses in Cuba the majority of the Jewish population emmigrated to the United States or other Latin American countries.  South Miami Beach has a large Jewish community that is largely made up of Jewish Cubans, or as they like to be called Jewbanos.  Though Americans may consider it a derogatory name, the Cuban American Jews  use the term Jewbano as a form of identity, an identity that they are proud of.

The S.S. St. Louis incident left some deep scares in the American conciousness.  The purpose of the reunion at the Eden Roc was to comemorate the event that occurred 70 years ago by signing copies of Resolution 111.  This resolution, that was sponsored by Sen. Herb Kohl of Wisconsin., acknowledges the suffering of the 938 passengers of the St. Louis that was caused by the refusal of the United States, Cuban, and Canadian governments to provide political asylum.

American sugar companies established large industrial sites called “centrales,” or sugar mills along these rail networks to process the sugar cane harvest.  Many of these “centrales” were built near the growing fields away from populated areas.  In order to get the workers to the production sites some sugar companies built housing areas near the “centrales.”  Eventually some of these “centrales” grew to the size of towns such Central Chaparra, Central Delicias, (where my parents came from) and Central Hershey, owned by Hershey Chocolate.

Central Hershey was located between Matanzas and Havana.  Under the leadership of their founder Milton Hershey, not only did the Hershey Company build houses for their employees,  they also added an electric passenger rail line to take their employees back and forth between the two cities. This rail line, which is still in operation today, is known as The Hershey Train and it is also a part of the Cuban Thing.

The Hershey Cuban Electric Railway began passenger service between Matanzas and “Central Hershey” in January of 1922.  Ten months later it was extended to Casablanca, a suburb of Havana.  Due to a dispute with United Railways, an English company that over saw the rail services within Havana Province, the Hershey Train was not allowed into the city of Havana.  Nonetheless, the rail line prospered and within two years had seventeen passenger cars and seven locomotives.

To ride the train today is a slow process.  The locomotives and passenger cars are in a constant state of disrepair.  The ride through the hills and sugarcane fields that are now abandoned is rough, but unforgettable.  Often being interrupted by unscheduled stops to allow field hands with their wagon loads and other forms of traffic to cross the tracks.

Milton Hershey built his sugar mill near the town of Santa Cruz in the Province of La Habana.  There he built a “batey” or town for his workers on a hill top overlooking the Caribbean Sea.  The town was made up of cottages with front porches and tile roofs.  It had a clinic, a pharmacy, a grocery and butcher shop.  It was almost identical in appearance to the town of Hershey, Pennsylvania.  The town had its own power plant with sewers and running water. There even was an amusement park.

Though the name has been changed to Camilo Cienfuegos, a Cuban revolutionary hero, the town of Hershey, Cuba is still in exsistance today.  Many of the buildings and cottages are in need of repair just like the rest of the country. The exterior of the Hershey Hotel still stands, but its interrior has been gutted.  The Hershey Gardens are overgrown.  One can still see the towering smokestacks of the sugar mill, though it is now  being converted to making pasta and ceramics products.  And the Hershey Train still lumbers along with its antiquated cars, making its way between Matanzas and Havana.

Though Americans are not permitted to visit Hershey, Cuba, they can visit Hershey, Pennsylvania and the historic Hershey Musuem.  There, in a small corner of the musuem, one can find many interesting facts, old photograhs and memorabilia of the other Hershey town, “Central Hershey.”  If a visit is not possible you can read all about it in the Hershey Community Archives.

Many Americans may find it hard to believe that racism exists outside the United States.  But it does.  Racism in Cuba has a longer history than America and is more complex for it goes beyond the color barrier.  One has to take into account skin color, social status as well as religion to get a more complete picture of the problem.  Slavery got its foot hold in the Western Hemisphere because all slave transports brought their cargo to Cuba.  Cuba was the center of the slave trade.  Slavery was not abolished in Cuba until 1886 thnaks to Jose Marti, Cuba’s most legendary hero. However racism in Cuba persisted.  When Castro came to power in 1959 he promised to eliminate the problem, and if you listen to the propaganda of today, racism no longer exsists in Cuba.  But it does.

There are many articles and forums on the internet that support all views of the Cuban racial problem.  I’m not here to take on any of these issues, but just to provide my personal observations with the racial problem.  You see my family is part of the racism in Cuba thing.  I am what is considered a mulatto, a cross between black and white, of which there are many possible combinations. A census taken in 2002 by the Cuban government claimed that 63% of the Cuban population was white.  But if you walk down any street in Cuba you will find many different shades of skin color.  Realistically 70% of the population is of African desent or mulatto.  The numbers are just the opposite for Cubans in the United States where 85% of them are of Spanish descent.

The reason for the disparity is due to econmoics.  Most of the Cuban early arrivals in America were seeking a better way of life.   Most came with some kind of money.  Many were educated professionals,businessmen or tradesmen and the majority were white.  After the Castro takeover the majority of cubans who left Cuba, escaped with whatever they could carry, but still the majority of them were white. The Cubans that stayed behind were mostly poor who believed in castro’s false promises and these were mostly black or mulatto.

So why was my father so upset with the Rev.Jackson and Mr. Glover’s visit to Cuba?  My father understood the plight of the blacks and mulattos of Cuba.  Though Castro has insisted that racism does not exist in Cuba, blacks are denied many privilages.  Most managerial positions and jobs in the tourist trade are held by whites.  They are placed in poor housing, and are kept waiting for any kind of healthcare, and are more likely to be imprisoned.  My father could not understand how these two high profile Black Americans could not possibly see the problem that was so apparent and not make mention of it in their talks with Castro.  It seems, my father would say, that the way one lives in Cuba is all determined by skin color.  Its the racism in Cuba thing.

After writing this post I came across an article in Havana Times entitled “The Race Problem In Today’s Cuba.”  The source may come from Cuban propagandists and may seem slightly high brow, but it discusses  the problem and breaks it down to its basic components quite well.  If you’re interested check it out.