Say My Name: CUBA

#1 in a series ...

Cuba


To an American kid growing up in the '60s and '70s, even saying the name brings a chill.

The associations:   Fidel, army fatigues, Bay of Pigs, missile crisis, cigars, beards, sweat, music, a Woody Allen movie, embargo, blockade. Socialism, Communism. Imperialism (oh, that last one is us, supposedly).

Che and Fidel light one up.

The U.S. press fed us a steady diet of frightening images and stories of Fidel Castro and his dictatorship.

As a five-year-old I asked:   "Mom, why does the President of Cuba always dress in army clothes?   Don't presidents have to wear suits?"

Then as a young adult ... whispers of forbidden fruit.  Captivating music, beautiful people, cigars, rum ...  old American cars, and unchanging architecture:  a country stuck in a time warp, in part because of the very same U.S. laws that made a visit forbidden fruit.  Of course, getting to the fruit would have meant some minor rebellion against the U.S. laws.   But that was something we did frequently anyway, if smoking a joint counted as rebellion.

This temptation launched the back-of-the-mind notion to visit Cuba despite the Embargo. Today, they'd call it a "bucket-list item".





Hey, why should Fidel have all the fun?

In my twenties, I lived in South Florida. Cuba was tantalizingly close.

Before moving to Miami, I had thought only old people were Republicans. Then I met the young Cuban Americans of South Florida. They were my friends ... but they were voting for Ronald Reagan, and nothing I could say was going to talk them out of it.

Of course, they didn't think I should go to Cuba.

Many years passed. Marriage, kids ... kids grown, divorce. In December of 2014, the last of those life events finally settled, I started to plan a trip to Cuba. What's the big deal?

Fly to Mexico,
   fly to Cuba.
      Smoke a cigar.

Fly to Mexico,
   fly home.
      Smoke a cigar.

Simple.

But my brother the scientist, who consults with the government, tried to talk me out of it. "If you go to Cuba, they'll know."    "They" being our friendly US Homeland Security folks. I don't know them personally, but they seem friendly. Sort of.

My reply to my brother:  "They may know, but they don't care. Nobody cares. Watch: in a few years, things will change."

I didn't have to wait a few years. Only a few days later came the announcement that relations with Cuba were going to change. ¡Vamos, President Obama!  There's something to be said for a 2nd term President with nothing to lose. Obama calls it his "rhymes with bucket" list.  End the economic boycott against Cuba?   Why not?   Bucket!!

I now had the prospect of planning a legal trip to Cuba. I became determined to do just that. I studied the law.  

I also felt urgency, because the opening of relations means sooner or later Cuba will change. I wanted to see Cuba during the embargo.

I admit, I had a few advantages in pulling off this trip. I study languages as a hobby, and am what most Americans (but not many Latinos) would consider fluent in Spanish. And a good friend of mine, Mexican-American, started a bilingual Spanish-English Toastmasters club. More practice in Spanish. The time was right.

I put these things together and created an education and cultural exchange program for Spanish Bilingual Toastmasters San Francisco.  

My initial goal was to connect with the Toastmasters clubs in Cuba.

Except, there are no Toastmasters clubs in Cuba!

This was mildly surprising. Toastmasters is a worldwide organization. It's everywhere. Well, apparently not everywhere ... just places where free speech already thrives.

Like China.






Yep, Communist China.








OK, all of a sudden I had a political slant on this ... and a determination: bring public speaking and leadership skills development to the long-suffering people of Cuba. The better to promote a free exchange of ideas ... "truth, justice, and the American Way", as the Superman TV show used to say.

Or, to put it in the language of the White House, my goal is to "support civil society in Cuba, and enhance the free flow of information to, from, and among the Cuban people". Toastmasters the world over are nodding their heads. Yep, can do.

I built a written program allowing any member of my Toastmasters club to travel to Cuba. The specific section under the general license permitting travel to Cuba is #7. "7. Public performances, clinics, workshops, athletic and other competitions, and exhibitions." Toastmasters give exhibitions all the time: demonstration Toastmasters meetings, vital to the creation of new clubs. In this case, vital to the creation of a free speech movement in Cuba.

I sipped away at my own kool-aid, such that by the time I got ready to book tickets I had convinced myself I was a for-real political action figure (if that's not a contradiction in terms). I was going to Cuba. Fidel would not object. His brother, Cuban leader Raúl Castro wanted me there ... if I could see fit to bring plenty of cash. And the US Government wanted me there.

Fly to Cuba.
   Give a speech.
      Smoke a cigar.

Fly home.
   Give a speech.
      Smoke a cigar.

That was my simple plan.  

Except, flying to Cuba turned out to be not so easy in May of 2015.

[Next post: How to Fly to Havana and NOT Lake Havasu.]