From Cuba With Love
8/22/2006 12:29:07 PM by Robert J. Rodriguez
Follow a man as he researches the potential for Cuba’s cruising industry in a soon-to-be post-Castro nation - and sorts out his heritage and family ties in the process.
Photo by Steven Miric
With the latest news about Fidel Castro making headlines around the world, I reflected recently back to 1992 when I visited the island as part of a research assignment for Sea Trade. Prior to that trip, my only understanding of the island came from the endless dinner conversations my dad and mom had with our family during my upbringing.
It was February 1992, and my mission was to investigate the possibilities the cruise industry might have in a post-Castro Cuba. Although I was excited with the research assignment, I also wanted to take advantage of the trip to better understand my roots and heritage. Needless to say, my parents were concerned about my trip since they had left the island in 1962 with little notice and much apprehension. During my first day on the island, I had the opportunity to visit the home where I was conceived. My parents left Havana in the summer of 1962 with two children, my brother Roy and my sister Maria. I was still in my mom’s belly and would be born 11 days after they arrived in Miami. My mom’s only request, while in Cuba, was for me to reach out to her brother Leon who had stopped all communications with her when my parents fled the island.
FAMILY TIES
When I arrived at my parents home, the taxi driver recommended that I inform the occupants of the house that I had been born there, so that they would feel obligated to let me in. I knocked on the door and, much to my surprise, the lady who answered knew exactly who I was and knew more about me than I could have ever imagined. “You see,” she said, “I know who you are because we moved into the house the day your parents left. In fact, I know all about your family since they left behind many of their possessions, including furniture, clothes and personal items.” Her husband, the vice minister of the fishing industry in Cuba, also greeted me and told me it would be OK to look around and videotape the house to show my parents back home.
PORT OF HAVANA
As part of my professional duties on the island, I needed to investigate the condition of the two main ports: Havana and Matanza. Havana is in the old city and Matanza is about 60 miles from Havana. I researched both ports and studied the commerce going in and out of each. In the case of Havana’s port, the infrastructure was in terrible shape and it was unlikely that cruise ships could use that port without massive investments in improvements. I witnessed immense dumping of fuel and other toxic waste into the waters at the Havana port. In addition, the workforce seemed unresponsive and very unproductive.
CLOSE ENCOUNTERS
I was in my room at The Riveria Hotel on the third night of my stay when someone knocked at my door at 3:00 a.m. As I made my way to the door, I heard a man scream, “security check.” I shouted back and attempted to return to my bed. A few seconds later, the door opened and three security guards entered my room to inform me that I had been chosen randomly to participate in a security check.
Fortunately for me, when I heard the first knock, I took all of my research notes and videotapes and hid them in one of my shirts lying on the floor. I was asked to go downstairs and wait while they concluded their search. By the time I made it down, my fear had turned to anger and I started challenging any and all authority on the island. Actually, as frightening as that evening was, I also learned something about what had happened to Cubans on the island after 35 years of oppression and dictatorship rule. They had forgotten how to challenge authority.
When the security team came to see me after finishing their random search, I gave them an earful. I told them that this action was not the type of behavior that would be tolerated anywhere else in the world unless, of course, it was in some two-bit country with no regard for privacy. I noticed right then that Cubans in power were seldomly challeneged and didn’t know how to react when they were. From that evening on, I found myself challenging every Cuban with authority I came across.
PORT OF MATANZA
The following day I went to Matanza to see that port’s infrastructure. I was impressed with how they had transformed that port into the commercial hub on the island. Once I arrived, I decided I would need to concoct a story, since the guard house was in front of the entrance and there was no way I would be allowed to enter unless I had a compelling reason.
I walked up to the security guard and informed him that I was a Mexican travel agent and that I wanted to film the port for promotional purposes. He asked me to wait while he received clearance from his boss. A few minutes later he returned with two additional security guards, rifles in hand, and asked me to follow him to meet his superior.
When I met his superior, a captain in the Cuban Armed Forces, he asked me what I wanted. Before I could finish the bit about being a Mexican travel agent he stopped me cold and asked if I was Cuban. I was caught off guard and fumbled my response. He quickly said this conversation is over and asked me to leave immediately. I was escorted out of his office with the two guards that had accompanied me there in the first place. As I left, I set the video recorder on and was able to get great footage of the inner workings of the Matanza port. There’s no question that Matanza’s port is a strategic port for the Cuban government. It will also be a very important port for future imports and exports as it’s ideally located.
THE CUBAN CRUISE INDUSTRY’S FUTURE
I was halfway into my trip when I started to form my early opinions on the potential for the cruise industry. There was no doubt in my mind that one of the earliest beneficiaries of a post-Castro Cuba would be cruise lines bringing thousands of people to the island. These huge majestic vessels could simply go to port, or tender off shore, and allow their passengers the pleasure of seeing a magnificent land, albeit in current decay. These floating palaces could offer all the island’s inate beauty, but with western sophisticated accomodations. Where else could you find a ready-made industry to take advantage of all of this natural beauty without ramp-up costs or time constraints? In addition, the pent-up demand for a place 90 miles off of the U.S. coast, forbidden for so many decades, would be an instant hit. Even if the non Cubans resisted, I reasoned to myself, the one million-plus Cubans living abroad would provide a pipleline for years to come. I concluded that the one industry in a post-Castro Cuba that could hit the ground running is the cruise industry.
FAMILY MATTERS
When I finished my research, I had one item left of unfinished business: my mom’s request. Leon was 53 years old. He and my parents stopped talking when he, after a philosophical argument with my dad about Castro, threatened to turn my dad over to the Castro government. My father took exception to his threats and never spoke to him again. Leon was a man who had seen better days. Upon meeting me, we hugged and exchanged pictures. He wanted me to know how bad he felt that he had broken off communication with his sister and how much he regretted threatening my father. I asked him what had happend and he told me he bet on the wrong horse, Fidel. He didn’t need to say anything else. We spent the next few hours together discussing family and Cuba.
Although an engineer by training, it was pretty obvious to me that Leon had lived a very tough life in this unforgiving system. After our lunch together, I asked him to take me to the burial sites of both my grandfathers. I wanted to pay my respects to these men whom I had never met. We tried to find the different sites but were not successful. I never did tell my mom or dad that the search for their parents tombstones ended in failure; I thought some things were better left unsaid.
After our day together, I went to the tourist store and bought Leon some basic items and requested one last favor. I would be returning to Miami in a couple of days and I wanted him to talk with my mom and dad again. After all, I said, we’re blood. There should never be a reason not to talk for so many years. He agreed and when I returned I arranged a call. Leon and my mom spoke for the first time in decades and when they were through I asked my father to get on the phone as well. My dad and Leon exchanged pleasantries. Within six months of that call, Leon died. I still think to this day that I was brought to the island in 1992 to reconnect a brother and sister, who had lost touch for reasons neither could understand for more than 35 years.
As time ticks, the days get shorter for the Castro regime. Regardless of how Fidel’s health is or isn’t, his days as the absolute ruler of Cuba are coming to an end. When that day occurs, Cubans around the world will rejoice. The island nation, that has been there for hundreds of years before the Castro brothers arrived, will once again take its place as the jewel of the Caribbean. Happy sailings - and cruises - are sure to follow.