| My memories of Havana
Posted: 4/22/2008 12:57:13 PM | My memories of Havana, as a very young child are a bit strange. I don't remember everything in detail, I only have certain memories. The one that stands out the most is of almost being shot by a Cuban soldier just for being out doors during a curfew. It must have been around the late 1960's or maybe the early 1970's. It was usual to go out doors and play; everyone in Havana was always out. People also left their doors and windows open for air circulation, because there was no air conditioning. On that day, I was not allowed to go outside at all. I remember being inside the house all-day and looking out the window. I kept asking my mother why I couldn't go outside, and she wouldn't answer me. Until, I looked out the window and saw two Cuban soldiers walking down the middle of the street. They were wearing O.D uniforms, helmets, and side arms. When I asked my mother why that was, she said it was because there was a curfew on the island and no one was allowed to be outside. I asked her what they would do to someone if they happen to be on the street, and she said they would shoot them. I said to her, even a five-year boy old, and she said yes.
Very foolishly, I decided to put that theory to the test. So I ran outside and went down the front steps to the last one, and hovered my foot over the sidewalk. I then looked at the soldiers to see what they would do; one of them reached for his .45 and was about to pull it out. The other soldier stopped him, when I saw that, I shot back into the house and closed the doors again. I remember being frozen with fear, I could not even speak or move. I was standing in the hallway unable to move or speak; all I could hear was the sound of my heartbeat. I remember thinking, " what is that sound and why can't anybody else hear that, it's so loud". I was motionless and speechless, all I could do was just stand there and wait. Fortunately, they kept walking and never came inside the house.
Another memory is of the lady next door to me. She was the first blonde person that I ever saw. When I saw her for the first time, my jaw dropped. I thought, "oh my god, she's deformed, she has yellow hair"! Once I got past that, I also noticed that she was mighty fine looking, and had a great pair of legs. I thought that she might be a dancer that worked at the Tropicana Hotel, because I lived about 8 blocks from there on the same street. I remember thinking that it was nice of her father to give her a ride to work everyday. Later, I found out from my mother that he was not her father, he was her husband. She said that's the way European women do it. They marry men that are much older than they are. I guess it's because they tend to be more mature, established, and have more money. They were East German communist that worked at the East German consulate in Havana.
The neighbors on the other side of the house were Cuban communist, their 10-year son would take a short cut right through my house everyday after school. He would walk through the front of the house to the back of the house, into the backyard and hopped the fence and go into his house. He did this every single day, it started to get on my nerves. I told my mother that if he did that one more time, I was going to hit him over the head with a broom. So she spoke with his mother, and he stopped doing that.
Most of the time my father was not home, because he was in a prison camp in the province of Camaguey, he was there for many years. My parents told me that before my brother and I were born, they tried to escape, but failed. They got caught and spent 8 months in a Cuban prison called the Bastille; it was structured like a French prison. My parents said that they got lucky and were freed after only 8 months; they said that at that time it could have been a year or more. They were on a boat full of other Cubans that were attempting to escape the island, when they were caught by a Cuban PT boat. They said that everyone gave up right away, except for them. They ran inside a dark room on board the boat, and hid. They said that a soldier went in after them and fired his AK 47 into the darken room, after that, they surrendered. My father also said that he spent about 8 months in prison because of a case of mistaken identity. He told me that the Cuban government was looking for his next-door neighbor that had the same nickname as his, and also worked at the electric company. He said that his neighbor got lucky and was able to get off the island. After 8 months in prison, my father said that the Cuban government was going to put him in front of a military court. But, my father said that his uncle named Juanito that lived in New York and worked for intelligence spoke to the Cuban government and he was released.
I also have memories of going to school in Havana for a few weeks, before being allowed to leave. It was much like American kindergarten, except we had to say the Cuban national anthem. They gave out orange soda and vanilla sandwich cookies. In the U.S. it's a slightly better deal, milk and chocolate chip cookies. The Cuban national anthem was a bite strange to me, I remember going home and asking my mother, " Who is Castro, is he a god"? Much to my surprise, I learned that he was a living person and the supposed president of that island nation. Anyway, my family was finally allowed to leave in 1971, during the Cuban mass exodus. That's the difference between refugees and exiles; refugees escape Cuba and enter the U.S. with out the permission of the U.S. government. Exiles left Cuba with the permission of the Cuban government and entered the U.S. legally, with the permission of the American government. | |
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