The sanctuary of Beth Shalom Temple in Havana, Cuba, built in the mid-1950s, went unused for more than three decades.
Photo by Skip Feinstein
When I said I was going to visit Cuba, people raised their eyebrows and asked: Isn't there an embargo? Are you allowed to go there? How do you get there? Are you political?
My writing instructor and editor, Anya Achtenberg, invited authors and artists to visit Cuba Jan. 3-13 as a delegation and cultural exchange, all sanctioned by the United States government. I was curious about what was happening there. My motives weren't political at all.
With my background in South Florida, I often write about the Cuban community in my novels and I was curious whether there was censorship for writers. Cuba's unique culture interested me. I remember my classmates' families fleeing the revolution and Batista's rule. I also remember hiding under my school desk when Russian rockets were moved to the island because we thought they were going to be launched against us. A lot has changed since then. With Fidel Castro and now his brother, Raul, in power for 51 years, there's not much of a chance that these two aging dictators pose a threat or will be attacking the United States.
In fact, with the information blackout for so many years, I really knew very little about what was happening in this island nation of 11 million. What better way to see it than with our own eyes?
Our delegation of 21 was able to leave from Miami on a charter flight crowded with Cubans carrying packages for their families. (The Obama administration last year lifted travel restrictions so that family members from the U.S. can take charter flights to Cuba to visit relatives.) The flight took less than an hour. We stepped off the plane to hundreds of people waiting to greet their relatives, a momentous occasion for many who hadn't seen each other in a long time. Fathers held children over their heads to catch a glimpse of someone coming out of customs and others collapsed in each other's arms.
On our way from Jose Marti Airport to our hotel in downtown Havana, I was struck by how pretty the island was and what repair the buildings needed. Beautiful mansions with sagging porches sat crumbling next to restored ones that housed municipal offices. My entrepreneurial spirit wanted to open a paint and shutter-repair franchise but alas, that's not possible. The absence of real estate signs is noticeable. The government assigns you housing and if you want to change, you have to find someone to trade with you and your family.
On our first morning, we met with architect and urban planner Miguel Coyula to see a scale model of Havana. After a lecture on how the Cuban government is promoting responsible development with a strong emphasis on community involvement, he escorted us on a walking tour of Old Havana. The old part of the city is charming with lots of book vendors and performing musicians.
We were getting a flavor of a vibrant people who were excited to meet Americans. There are very few Americans on the island; however, many Cubans know English because Canadians are a keystone of tourist development in the beach areas. They've been visiting for years.
The CDR system
The Committee for the Defense of the Revolution is a place where neighbors gather weekly to discuss how to make their neighborhood better, a block-watch group, Cuban-style. I didn't know what to expect but I was hoping it wouldn't be long-winded diatribes about Cuba's government. Instead, we arrived at an open-air facility where families gathered. After a few short speeches welcoming us and some announcements and a song, they invited questions. A professor of African film asked about the Bay of Pigs operation, in which a CIA-trained group of Cuban exiles invaded southern Cuba in April 1961. A grizzled veteran was hauled to the front, and he explained how he helped defend his country, a mission that was over in three days.
Next, a few pubescent boys in their school uniforms surrounded a boombox and Cuban rhythms filled the chilly night air. The children began dancing first and then invited the adults sitting on benches to join them with outstretched hands. Soon, everyone was dancing salsa or their own version of it. While their liquid bodies moved to the rhythms, I was struck by how people get along better if there's music, art and dancing involved.
Religion
The absence of church bells, crosses, pictures of Jesus and religious jewelry struck me early on in the trip. There are churches and a synagogue but unlike other Spanish-dominated countries, the religious symbols are not a focal point. There is strict separation of church and state.
Are there Jews in Cuba?
Yes, there is a vibrant but fading Jewish community. The 1,500 Cuban Jews who remain after the departure of 15,000 are in the same economic circumstances as the rest of the country. The Beth Sholom Temple and Jewish Community Center, closed for five decades, is now a bright star because of a 1991 law passed that allows participation in religious associations. The "before" photos on the wall tell the story of a building in ruin, birds flying into a broken ceiling. Today, a beautiful sanctuary and school have been rebuilt by the Jewish federations in Miami and Baltimore. Services are led by an Argentine rabbi.
Creativity
We were impressed with a visit to a resident arts high school in Matanzas where art and music teachers are trained. The students sang, danced and played instruments for us. They were extraordinary. Not a pair of pants hanging on the ground, no tattoos or piercings, just disciplined kids committed to the performing arts and preserving their Afro-Cuban heritage.
The president of the class, a young woman, actually has a seat in the government so student voices can be heard.
La Colmenita, a children's theater group whose name means "the little beehive," was a highlight for all of us. The troop of youth performances ranged from the story of Cinderella to Beatles songs. With multimedia assistance, they did a wonderful job with sets, music and costumes, including a miniature John Lennon.
Afterward, we learned from "Papa Tim, the unassuming director of the project, that after competing in worldwide competitions, the people employed by the government to run the UNICEF-sponsored arts program wanted the children to learn English, so they started with Beatles songs.
Lots to do but not much shopping
There isn't any shopping. Or very little. This is not a society based on commerce, so other than a few beautifully crafted handmade books from a publishing company in Matanzas and a Che T-shirt, which I cut the label out of because we were warned that anything that says "Made in Cuba" would be confiscated, we bought nothing.
We visited the San Severino slave fort and museum, a few Hemingway haunts, the Yoruba/Santeria African religious museum, the writer's union and the Film Institute, and met the top female Cuban filmmaker, Gloria Rolando. Many in our group visited more artists and galleries.
Back home
Now that I've returned, I'm still getting strange responses when I say I just came back from Cuba. Was it political? I don't know. It was an opportunity to observe a different political system firsthand and more importantly, to connect with creative people. The Cuban people were warm and welcoming, especially our guide, Jesus, who answered a myriad of questions and made good-natured jokes about his name.
As Nancy Morejon, president of the Writer's Union responded to one of my endless inquiries: "It's not paradise, but it's not hell either."
Marcia Fine is an author and entrepreneur whose newest satire, "Stressed in Scottsdale," was released in January. Visit marciafine.com or jeanrubinblog.com.
