I was born in Maryland and spent my first thirty years living there, first in the Appalachian Mountains, then on the Eastern Shore, and later in suburban Washington. After a year in South Carolina, I moved to Georgia in 1977. I soon met another park ranger who worked in Florida. She was a wonderful woman who became my best friend. then my wife, and soon the mother of our three children. I spent over eleven years working in the historic city of Savannah, Georgia, and on the moss-draped sea islands nearby before moving to Atlanta.. In 2007, I retired from the National Park Service and a career dedicated to preserving and interpreting resources and themes in the cultural and natural history of the United States. It was a most rewarding experience. Today, I enjoy living in the rolling hills and woods of the Appalachian Piedmont east of Atlanta.
Now and then, we Americans hear about the wonderful world that is Cuba, a crony capitalist banana republic freed by the collectivist idealism of Fidel Castro, Che Guevara, et al. There may have been some truth to that prior to 1990 but things changed dramatically when the Soviet Union crumbled and the generous annual supplement to keep communism alive in Cuba and the Americas ended. In the generation since, life for Cubans outside of the elite class has worsened dramatically. And tourists who visit this Marxist-Leninist republic and describe it the the rest of the world cannot leave their "bubble" to witness the poverty around them. Michael Totten, a contributing editor at City Journal, managed to visit Cuba and get outside the tourist bubble. His report on life in a country that at one time was a thriving middle class society will add some reality to the concept of collectivist ideology.
Totten begins with this:
Neill Blomkamp’s 2013 science-fiction film Elysium, starring Matt Damon and Jodie Foster, takes place in Los Angeles, circa 2154. The wealthy have moved into an orbiting luxury satellite—the Elysium of the title—while the wretched majority of humans remain in squalor on Earth. The film works passably as an allegory for its director’s native South Africa, where racial apartheid was enforced for nearly 50 years, but it’s a rather cartoonish vision of the American future. Some critics panned the film for pushing a socialist message. Elysium’s dystopian world, however, is a near-perfect metaphor for an actually existing socialist nation just 90 miles from Florida.
I’ve always wanted to visit Cuba—not because I’m nostalgic for a botched utopian fantasy but because I wanted to experience Communism firsthand. When I finally got my chance several months ago, I was startled to discover how much the Cuban reality lines up with Blomkamp’s dystopia. In Cuba, as in Elysium, a small group of economic and political elites live in a rarefied world high above the impoverished masses. Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, authors of The Communist Manifesto, would be appalled by the misery endured by Cuba’s ordinary citizens and shocked by the relatively luxurious lifestyles of those who keep the poor down by force.
For those readers who enjoy outstanding writing and a conservative perspective on the American experience, I recommend City Journal as a voice of reason in a world of media too often consumed by delusion. The print version is a graphic delight as well - looks good on the coffee table - but much of the content is available free on line.
Sometime during this week in 1967, one of the Western Hemisphere's - if not the world's - most infamous Communist butchers met his fate by firing squad in Bolivia. In death, the image of Ernesto "Che" Guevara has become a world-wide symbol for revolution. It is an appalling and ubiquitous reality. In a brief post at Townhall, Humberto Fontova tells readers all they need to know about the horror behind the smiling face.
We sat in high school Spanish class early in the year awaiting an introduction to our new teacher, Rita Geada de Prulletti (1934 or 1937- ). Weeks earlier, we had heard that she was a most learned woman, a professor, and would impart her native language upon us with great skill. We expected anything but a deeply shy woman of barely 26 years old, with raven black hair, dark eyes, and a polite and nervous smile. The "profesora" seemed reluctant to meet us. When she spoke, we understood. She knew virtually no English. On hearing her, I'm sure more than one boy began constructing a list of how best to terrorize Spanish class for the rest of the year. As an academic and intellectual - she published her first book of poetry when she was 22 - the year was difficult for her. Where she expected respect and classroom order as in her home country, she was tested repeatedly, one time to tears, but she prevailed. We were immersed in Spanish as there was no alternative and we - most of us - learned it well. Through the profesora's shyness, her search for discipline and respect, the tears, and her perseverance, we learned far more than a second language. We learned about life.
First, Rita Prulletti was a Cuban refugee from Castro's communist and equally fresh revolution. She was a scholar, having received her doctorate from the University of Havana. The Organization of American States enabled her to complete post-doctoral studies at the University of Buenos Aires. No doubt, she left Cuba in haste, perhaps escaping with the usual suitcase of clothes and leaving family, future and homeland behind. She refused to talk about her experience. A biography mentions her arrival in the United States in 1963 to teach at Southern Connecticut State College. There is no mention of her teaching at Wi Hi. Was it too painful? An embarrassment? Reasons why are in the past, but they are never really dead.
In mid-October 1962, the Soviet Union attempted to place missiles in Cuba. For the United States, the Cold War suddenly took on a much hotter dimension. Soon, the drone of aircraft heading south from Dover Air Force Base was a daily occurrence. At the first sounds, we moved to the windows or gazed up from the playing fields to watch the formations of twenty or thirty aircraft overhead. In wave after wave, they flew into the confrontation that, at this point, was beyond our horizon but in our eyes and ears with every evening newscast. Curiously, OTR does not recall if Profesora Prulletti was in the classroom at that time. How odd, he thinks. Could her introversion, the nervous fleeting smiles, have masked her so well that even her presence at the height of such a crisis could go unnoticed? The answer rests in the profesora's need to be somewhere, anywhere, at the time, but not fixed in place. The Cuban revolution forged her into a searcher. Within two years, she moved on from what was a holding pattern. All of us have at some time or another found ourselves suspended between past and future in a necessary but not ideal present. "La profesora" found her physical place in Connecticut and in retirement today in the Cuban community in Miami where she continues to lecture and write poetry.
Rita Geada is recognized as a leading poet, essayist, short story writer, and member of the "First Generation of the Cuban Diaspora." In her work, she longs for the security of place and family she knew in Cuba before her life was uprooted. For Geada, history is not so much forgotten as it is polluted by self-interest and confusion. It is a world drifting with little hope of finding safe harbors in institutions that at one time held humanity together in both purpose and direction. Still, in this dark world, she longs for the lost years in her homeland, for hope in the restoration of freedom, and joy in camaraderie among the exiles.
In so many ways, Rita Geada, never left the holding pattern that was our Spanish class. Today, she is likely an after-though in the faculty annals at the old alma mater. OTR doubts that very, very few English speaking Americans would recognize her name. Still, a quirky mismatch forty years ago led to five years of academic Spanish on the part of this writer and temporary harbor for a significant participant-observer in the American Experience. OTR hopes that we can learn from Geada's shattered years and their aftermath. A renewed appreciation for family, faith, respectful debate, and national institutions in this difficult time would be a fine tribute to my shy profesora who found her refuge with the Mother of Exiles so many years ago.
For Spanish-speakers, here is Rita Geada discussing her life and work at a conference in south Florida in January 2012:
Sources:
Paradise Lost or Gained?: The Literature of Hispanic Exile, Fernando Alegria and Jorgo Ruffinelli, Arte Publico Press, 1990;
Handbook of Hispanic Cultures in the United States, Nicolas Kanellos and Claudio Esteva Fabregat, Arte Publico Press, 1994
Amazon.com has a list of the Spanish editions of Geada's recent publications.
OTR's interest in Cuba goes back a long, long way. In his youth, there was always Hemingway and The Old Man and the Sea. Around 1954, Great Uncle Charlie gave OTR a shoe box filled with postage stamps from Central and South America, and the Caribbean, but mostly from Cuba. Then came the Cuban missile crisis of 1962. It was hard to ignore all those military aircraft flying over the Eastern Shore on there way south. At the same time, waves of Cuban refugees moved north to find work. One of them was a college professor from Havana who became OTR's Spanish teacher. She went on to become a well-known poet and writer in the expatriate community of Miami where she still resides. And there was OTR's infatuation with tropical Florida, the adopted home of the Cuban culture. During his college years, it was satisfied with many semester breaks south of the Tamiami Trail. Work only added to the fever. Hardy a year went by from 1988 to 2007 without several projects on the Florida mainland or in the Keys. Every trip was an opportunity to explore Cuban cuisine. Today the Florida-Cuba curiosity continues through careful attention to Babalu, an essential news blog for the Cuban experience. OTR has followed Babalu for more than six years.
It has been over fifty years since the existence of the free exchange of people and ideas between the U.S. and Cuba. When the last liner left Manhattan for Havana, the U.S. was concluding its most spectacular decade as the world's most powerful economic engine. Cuba, in spite of a strong tourist economy and long-standing middle class was about to feel the power of collectivist revolution among its hard-working, neglected poor. Few of us experienced both of these worlds on the cusp of change, but we can look back at them through the eyes of historians and photographers. In today's Der Spiegel, we have a chance to see the people of Manhattan and Cuba through the eyes of the "legendary" German photographer, Heinrich Heidersberger. In 1954, as a ship photographer on several cruises from the Big Apple to Havana, he shows us what was, and what may be, life and industry for these neighbor nations.
OTR hopes readers enjoy Heidersberger's photo essay as much as he did. Like our experience in Cuba, the photos disappeared for many decades. They were rediscovered by viewers in 2001. Makes one wonder when American tourists will rediscover Cuba with their own eyes.
Illustrations: Arbuckle Coffee cards (1880s) from the family archives.
Sugar production throughout the Caribbean has dropped in the last few years, but the industry in Cuba appears to be a disaster. It's the worst harvest in 105 years. Though there are plenty of factors driving the market, a report by Cuban officials places much of the blame on internal issues. Babalu's Val Prieto has a comment and link here.
Political and social upheavals almost always lead to displacements in time and space. Something as commonplace as a telephone book may answer the lingering questions that accumulate as people rebuild their lives and associations far removed from the place they knew or imagined. Such is the case with a 1958 phone book from Cuba, one that presents information and impressions of the island BC, "before Castro."
For the last fifty years, anti-capitalist forces here and abroad have worked overtime to create a negative image of Cuba BC. Thanks to Babalu Blog and its link to evendon.net, you can explore the real Cuba before communism destroyed it. Let your fingers do the walking. There's nothing like an original source.
With the recent visit to Cuba by the lefty fringe of the Congressional Black Caucus, you'd think that paradise island was Eden. Four Cuban basketball team members apparently weren't very happy in paradise after playing a game in the Canary Islands. They missed the return flight and are likely to claim political asylum. Babalu has the details here.
How often have we heard that a life of privilege clouds perception and leads people astray? Much has been written about this phenomenon and its application to the American counterculture of the 1960s. Walter Kendall Myers was value programmed in the 1950s, in a world of post-war privilege in Washington. His father was a famous heart surgeon. His mother was the daughter of Gilbert H. Grosvenor of the National Geographic Society; her grandfather, Alexander Graham Bell. Last week, Myers and his wife, Gwendolyn, were arrested by federal authorities and charged with spying for Cuba for more than two decades. The Washington Post provides us with an informative look at Myers and his wife here.
Thanks to Babalu's Alberto de la Cruz for the link.
Babalu's Ziva Sahl reminds us ofthe realitywe are dealing with as Cuba resumes its membership in the Organization of American States. Indifference is costly.
On Wednesday, after 47 years, the Organization of American States lifted its ban on Cuba. There is no news on any change in policy on the part of the Castro regime so we must conclude that this is a good faith effort on the part of the OAS. With or without motivation, inviting Cuba to this table helps legitimize a long-standing dictatorship. One immediate outcome I see is access to more funding through the international banking system. The impoverished Cuban people may see some benefit from these loans while we can be assured los Castro will collect its generous share.
In the immediate future, all of this will transpire while hundreds of political prisoners continue to rot and free speech goes unheard. Will the softer approach offered by the OAS reach the heart of the dictatorship? It's possible, but the precedent of 47 years of "tough love" on this once-prosperous island should limit any softening in terms of both time and extent. I would like to think the OAS has already prepared a tool for assessing their wayward member's progress toward "good standing." And how refreshing it would be to see this venerable organization take the leading role in achieving liberation for Cuba.
Alberto de la Cruz, blogging at Babalu, posts a letter today from Iris and Jorge Antunez questioning why the Congressional Black Caucus ignores political oppression in totalitarian Cuba.
Babalu has more on the trickle down economics going on in Cuba regarding the easing of monetary remittances during the Bush years. Seems that the regime only pocketed about 250 million dollars over those few years. Will even more money go to subsidize this dictatorship? Read the post here.
Here's another take on the CBC pilgrimage to Fidel's "Freedonia." The only certified winner in this game is the Castro family. In 2006, Forbes Magazine named Fidel Castro as the world's seventh richest "leader." His fortune, skimmed from island tourism, retail and drug industries, was estimated at 900 million dollars.
My friends, I cannot confirm some essential information for an original post on the Congressional Black Caucus and their recent visit to Cuba . My story must wait, but the truth about this outrageous incident can't, so here is a link to Michelle Malkin's post on the issue.
The following members made the trip:
Barbara Lee (D-CA, 9th District) Laura Richardson (D-CA, 37th District) Mike Honda (D-CA, 15th District) Emanuel Cleaver (D-MO, 5th District) Bobby Rush (D-IL, 1st District) Marcia Fudge (D-OH, 11th District) Mel Watt (D-NC, 12th District)
These seven people are either profoundly stupid - lacking in intelligence - or cheerfully promoting a collectivist America in place of the constitutional republic we now enjoy. These people are dangerous. You can hear just how clueless they are in this collection of sound bites courtesy of Rush Limbaugh:
OTR is deeply disturbed by the Congressional Black Caucus's fawning before the communist dictator of Cuba. He has a draft post addressing this issue, but is awaiting confirmation of a few details before committing an article to the universe. He's finding it hard to contain the anger and using this alert as a vent.
Hugh Conner, British foreign service officer, finds himself crashed in the forbidding Himalayas, rescued, and taken to a lamasery. There, he finds his true vocation and wants to stay, however, his good friend wants to return to the world he knew and cannot do it without help. Conner agrees to leave with him, but once outside, finds that his only desire is to return to the Valley of the Blue Moon and its lamasery, Shangri La.
Many of you may recognize the above as a summary of James Hilton's novel, Lost Horizon. I thought about it this morning while reading a news story that 31 more Cuban exiles had arrived on U.S. soil near Turkey Point on Biscayne Bay. Most likely, the 28 adults and three children were transported by a smuggler at great cost to themselves - and Florida friends and relatives - and at high risk as well. The "dry foot rule" means they must be on our soil physically in order to stay. Being on a boat thirty feet from land means they are returned to Cuba. I cannot imagine the sorrow that situation would create.
Many leftists would tell us that, in spite of some difficulties, the 50 year old communist regime that these exiles left behind in Cuba was a paradise. The evidence readily available on any number of web sites would tell us otherwise, yet there seems to be a growing movement on our shores to reestablish closer official contact with this brutal dictatorship. True, the Cuban people no longer struggle under capitalism. Instead, they struggle to sustain a tiny wealthy ruling group and a much larger and far poorer population in a perpetual tension of the common denominator. No up. No down. Simply the pursuit of an equality of prosperity. What then motivates 28 adults, many of them too young to have known their country before communism, to risk all in an attempt to leave such a place? Family or friendship may be in play, but I would say they leave also to pursue freedom and actualization. The U.S. is their Valley of the Blue Moon. We are, after all, a nation of Hugh Conners. In our search for actualization in a free environment, sometimes we may chose loyalty and friendship over the security of Shangri La thinking that we can return at will. One must be careful, for the simple act of choice guarantees that there is no guarantee.
Did Conner return to his paradise? You need to read the book. I think our 31 Cubans have found theirs. Where will their choice for freedom and actualization take them? Anywhere they want. I wish them well. And I pray for swift liberation for those they left behind.
