What do you mean there is no parachute under the seat?

We left Cuba on a four engine (propeller) airplane. It had the tail with three fins all lined up. We were going from Miami to Spain, stay there for three months and then go to New York and the to Miami. If now sounds kind of ridiculous but that was one of the few ways to go. This is just the trip from La Habana to Spain. I remember certain things about the trip. Some I actually witnessed, others I heard about while on the plane. Carlos was my main source of information.

Only a few family members were left in Cuba when we left. They were Antonica, Alicia, Anita and Cheo on mom’s side. On my dad’s side there was no one left that I can think of. Abuela Julia left with Alberto’s family the day before we did. We left on the 25th of June 1965, they left the day before. They went to Monterey, Mexico. I thought they would join us in Miami, but they never did. Our families were very close. I really enjoyed going to their house. The last time I saw them was around a week prior to the flight. I only realized we were going to different places when we left for Spain and they left for Mexico. That was the one drawback to leaving. I always thought the families would get together again at some point. That was the last time I saw them. Later on in Miami Alberto visited, so did Carlos, Alberto Jr., Miriam and Chani, but we never really enjoyed the family atmosphere we had in Cuba. One thing I am planning to do once I have a little more time is re-establish communications with them. I would like to talk to them and see what life has been like for them and see what they remember.

Once you applied for a Visa to leave Cuba you became persona non grata. The authorities wanted to make sure that you left all your possessions behind. You literally came only with what you were wearing (shirt on your back). For this reason, some time before we left, it could have been as much as a year, we had to go through a process called el inventario. Everything was counted. We had to count the plates, the glasses, the number of sofas, jewelry, silverware etc…The trick was to hide everything before the first inventario. Once they counted the stuff, you had to hand it in before you left. If you broke a plate, you had to pick up the pieces and store them for the milicianos. Whatever you could hide or they did not count could be given away to neighbors etc… When the day of the inventario came el miliciano saw a picture of my dad with Fidel Castro in a baseball uniform. My father and Castro had been teammates in Belen. My father was a pitcher, Castro was a catcher. Castro knew dad but I do not think dad wanted him to remember. Every once in a while there was a military parade around my neighborhood. One time Castro himself was part of the parade. Dad kept looking away, hoping Castro would not recognize him and say hello or who knows what else. The problem was that once his neighbors saw this exchange they would wonder whether dad was gusano or nangara. He was very nervous. For a while dad thought Castro recognized him. He did not acknowledge dad. Dad was happy about this.

The miliciano wanted the picture of Castro and Dad. He either admired Castro very much or wanted to display it promptly signifying that he was more nangara than anyone else. He said that he could arrange it for us to leave earlier if he could keep the picture. Dad and mom were more than happy to agree. They also somehow hid some of the furniture and moved it back when the comunistas left. The neighbors were of course very helpful. Everyone knew what was going on. I think Isaac and Anita hid some stuff. You had look out for el nangara (Castro informant), but we all knew who they were. Then before we actually left country we moved that furniture to Lydia’s apartment. I do not know what she did with it. She may have just been keeping it for another family member. I hope she was able to keep it. She was a very nice lady.

The day we left we were all worried because we thought they were going to search us. I kept thinking about how that would take place. We were all in the terminal and they separated the children from the adults. Mom used to buy us una medallita at a certain age in Cuba. I had just gotten mine. I do not know what happened to it. I imagine we left it with family members. We did not want to be searched and then they find something and bad things could happen. Then the adults came back. Abuelo Arturo, Abuela, Maximina, Mom and Dad were stripped searched, I found out later. They even had to remove their wedding rings. The children were not searched at all. They just asked us questions. Soon after we embarked on the plane. We could have brought anything we wanted if we had just kept it on the children. We did not know that then. It is just as well. Who is willing to take such a gamble?

I remember walking over to the airplane. It was an Iberia airlines McDonnel Douglas super constellation similar to the one pictured at left. It did not have the fuel tanks at the end of the wings. . It was not like airports are now where you can go straight from the terminal to the airplane itself and not have to touch the tarmac. We had to walk to the big stairs to the airplane. It was very impressive since the airplane kept geting bigger as we approoached it. I heard Rosa started crying and started "pataleando" on the tarmac. Perhaps this is where she threw her back out ( more about that, later). Turi was very concerned. He had lent 2 pesos to Hans, one of Dad’s domino buddies. He asked Dad when he could get his two pesos back. I think Dad started laughing. Everyone was joking about that on the plane. I did not hear this conversation. Most of the time Carlos would tell me what was going on. I was kind of oblivious about what was going on. I also notice the airline crew which all spoke spanish in a funny way. They all had a spanish accent. I was also worried about other stuff.

That trip was horrible. 24 hours on a plane. I can only imagine what mom and dad went through. Traveling with 5 children and the two grandparents on a four engine propeller plane for 24 hours must have been a challenge. Just to get an idea our ages were Carlos (8), Ramon (7), Turi (5), Rosa (3) and Juanpi (1). Mom and Dad were 37 and 39, respectively. Can you imaging having to do that when we were that age? The plane had seating for 80 (or possibly 63) passengers, depending on the model we rode in. The pictures that are posted are from the one I think it was. There may have been a larger model however which had to stop more often. You literally had to wait in line to go to the bathroom. I did not want to go to the bathroom. But I found out that 24 hours was way too much. I then started looking at the bathroom and waiting until there was no line and then quickly pounce. Abuelo and Abuela seemed very sad. Mom and Dad I do not think had time to think. I think they were also nervous about seeing Teresa and Robert for the first time in four years. I know they were very worried about Robert, since he had Pertes disease. They did not know if he could walk or run properly.

I sat on the right side of the plane right next to the wing. Carlos and I would alternate to get the window seat. I kept looking at the engines. I wanted to make sure none of them would stop working. I do not know what I would have done if I had seen one of them stop. One thing I was wondering before I took the trip was what clouds would feel like. Do they get out of the way? Would there be turbulence as the clouds were disturbed. (This kind of reminds me of Robbie). As the plane would get closer the cloud seemed to disappear. You could still see it but it just seemed like it was a smoke of some type. I was amazed as we went under a cloud and emerged on the other side. At the same time I kept looking at the engine. They had little red flames or light coming out the side. If you look at a picture of the engine carefully you can see a small hole right next to the wing from where the flames would come out. I kept looking at the two engines on my side and they seemed to be working fine. Night came. It was interesting to watch the daylight decrease and slowly become night. Soon it was pitch black. I knew we were over the ocean but I could not see the water. I asked Carlos: What do you mean there was no parachute under the seat? They kept saying that if the plane went down to grab the cushion of the seat and use if for floatation. WHAT ABOUT ON THE WAY DOWN???

Unexpectedly to me we began descent as if we were landing. Carlos informed me that we were stopping at Bermuda, a very small island. Would the plane miss the island altogether? Thankfully it did not miss. I think we got off the plane but I am not sure. This was a re fueling stop. We were back on the plane and the plane took off again. I tried to go to sleep and kept looking at the engine. Would the little flame turn off in the middle of the night? Carlos and I kept saying what if one of the engines would fail? Dad would tell us that that was the reason we went on a four engine plane. If one engine fails then we have three left. I just kept looking at my seat cushion. There has got to be a parachute around here somewhere. I wondered if the plane could fly on three engines alone. Dad would say, no problem. Inevitably one of us would ask, what if another engine would fail? Then of course the plane could run on two engines. It would fly somewhat slower. Dad pretended to be very confident. I was not too sure. The next question would then be what about if the third engine would fail. Dad was confident as ever. I was the quiet one in those days. ( I do not know what happened). I did not dare ask that last question…..

I must have fallen asleep. I felt the plane descending again. I saw a toy runway with some toy houses lining the streets next to the runway. I must have been half asleep and needed more sleep. I was not a happy camper. I think I started having a meltdown myself. That is one of the few times I remember crying as a child. We got off the plane and went to the terminal. I knew we were not in Spain. Carlos told me we were at Las Azores, an island chain near Portugal. (Actually Carlos just told me Las Azores). We saw two nuns there. They looked like they were dressed the same as Tia Maria. I figured that Tia Maria had sent two of her colleagues to greet us. I did not understand a word they said. Mom and Dad seemed to. The nuns seemed to understand Mom and Dad. I was very sleepy. I thought I was having a nightmare. How come I cannot understand them? It turns out they were speaking Portuguese. To this day every time I hear someone speaking Portuguese I remember the sensation of being sleepy. Lord knows what would happen if two nuns started speaking Portuguese in front of me. I might just fall asleep altogether.

We left Las Azores shortly afterwards. I was kind of happy to be back on the plane. It started to feel like home.

The rest of the trip I do not remember. I remember getting off the plane and having a hard time walking. We were met at the airport by a friend of Abuelo Arturo. We all went in separate small cars and drove through the streets of Madrid. I was impressed by how small the cars are and how many cars there were on the street.

I think this guy who met us at the airport thought that we were loaded with money. He rented us two hotel rooms, one of them Abuelo and Abuela took, the other was shared by the rest of the family. At that time I understood since it was such a large change for them. Now I keep wondering if different arrangement could have been made. Maybe mom and dad thought that Carlos and I would not like to sleep in abuelo and abuela’s room (we were the oldest)

Abuelo kept saying we had to move by the next day. Dad slept on a convertible bed. He lay on it and in the middle of the night it collapsed and Dad was on the floor. I kept wondering what the hotel people would do to us. Would they call the authorities? We fixed it somehow and went back to sleep. We all slept on large bed. Mom was next to Juanpi, sort of protecting him from the others not rolling over and hurting him. Turi, Rosa, Carlos and I all shared the bed with Juanpi and Mom. In the middle of the night Mom started screaming. She had dreamt that everyone had squished Juanpi. I did not see this. I was exhausted. The last thing I remember was Dad falling off the pin-pan-pun.

The next day we all had breakfast at the hotel. They served a very rich hot chocolate and these funny cubes of sugar. I inspected the cubes of sugar and wondered why they were that shape. I remember seeing that once before when Carlos and I were doing our first communion. That was a special day and we had breakfast the day before as a group. I did not want to stain my white coat with the chocolate. I wondered if we were going to have that every day from now on. The next day our accommodations changed for the better.

I have noticed that so far I have concentrated on my father’s family in El Reparto Nautico. I have come to realize that we would see my mother’s family a lot less while in the old country. They lived in El Vedado. I used to love to go to Alberto’s House in El Vedado. Actually I do not know whose house it was. I know Alberto’s kids met us there all the time and I think it was Alberto’s house.

I never met my maternal grandfather. I heard he was a serious person. I know he would always like to hear my grandmother talk to him in the porch of their house. Abuela would always tell me that (she was proud of this). Apparently he was very quiet. Other people have told me he was the president of “Los Escolapios”. I do not really know what that is but I always imagined being a society such as the Knights of Columbus. Whatever it is I know some people who are really impressed by that. One of them was my former dentist, Francisco Bru, also from El Nautico. I am going to find out what it is. His name was Benito Ramon de la Vega. I guess I am named after him and Turi is named after Abuelo Arturo. I think I am pretty happy they chose Ramon and not Benito. He died when I was really young. The first picture is that of his father and mother surrounded by all their grandchildren. I can spot Jose Ramon, Alberto, Maria, Rosa, Ofelita, Rafin, Oscar, and Roberto. In the second picture we see some of the same people, approximately 47 years later. The third picture is of my maternal grandfather with Teresa and Robert. Actually I know the older one is Robert, because I can recognize him. The younger one I believe is Teresa, but I am not that certain. There may be too much of a difference in age. If any of you know, let me know.

Abuela Julia had several sisters; she had at least one brother. I have limited knowledge about any of them. I have posted one picture of them that we found (thanks Rosa). In the back row from left to right are Antoñica, Anita, Josefita?, Cheo and Alberto. Seated are Titia, and abuela Julia. In the front row are Mom, Julita and Alicia. I guess Tia Maria took the picture. I am not sure why the one I think is Josefita seems to be hiding. The male sibling’s name is Cheo (same as the astronaut, this reference my brothers and sisters will understand). Cheo is short for Jose. Cheo was my Godfather. Cheo was the youngest of the family and Abuela Julia was the next youngest. Cheo did not live with his sisters. I think he had a family of his own. Mom says that they could go through the roofs and the third house was Cheo’s. I know he had really bad diabetes and had to have several horrible processes carried out during that time and after we left. I am not going to dwell on those since we are already too familiar as to what those are. Cheo also had a hand tremor. When he wrote, his hand would shake. Although I really do not remember much about him I do remember I liked him. I remember one incident when he was trying to get to know me better and he asked me if I knew how to write. I did, but I kind of said I was just learning; since he was so intent on teaching me. I of course sat next to him and he started to write his name. The writing was barely legible. Not surprisingly, it looked as if as it would if someone had a very shaky hand and could not control the tremor. He then asked me to write my name. I started to, but I thought that the tremor was part of the deal. I felt that if I did not write it like he did, I would not be respecting him. I started mimicking him (I really did not know this was a disease, I kind of looked upon it as an idiosyncrasy or maybe a special talent he was trying to convey to me. Actually I was only five or six so I have no idea what I was thinking) One of the adults was passing by; I think it was mom; it could also have been abuela Julia, actually I do not really know who it was but, I was in trouble. I was scolded. Cheo started to laugh; he knew what was going on. He explained to them. I liked that about him. I remember liking being around him. He did have a very good sense of humor. We would not visit Cheo as often as I would have liked. After that I would hear about Cheo when I was in Miami. It was always something horrible about his disease. The thing about being apart from people is that most of the time when you get news, its bad news. He passed away while we were in Miami. I remember Abuela Julia being very depressed the day he died. She did not say anything about it although I did notice a change in demeanor. I had the stereo on. Tio lulo came by the house just to visit. He saw that we had the stereo on and scolded us for listening to music while Abuela was in mourning. He was absolutely right. The more I remember Tio Lulo, the more I remember that type of thing about him. He looked like someone who was not too sensitive but actually he was. In that way he resembled my dad.
On Sundays (perhaps it was Saturdays) Abuela Julia and Anita would visit our house in el nautico. They would stay for a couple of hours but mainly talked to the adults. They talked to us too but it just was not enough to really get to know them Anita was abuela’s sister. I think she was always a single, but I am not sure. I got to know abuela really well here in Miami. Unfortunately the rest of the family, I got to know hardly at all.

Alicia was my god mother. I loved to visit Alicia. She always had a present ready for me. She kind of looked like a combination of Abuela Julia and Tia Maria. For some reason I always picture her getting up from sitting on a bed or possibly some futon like thing. She was always happy to see me. Alicia did seem to be alone. She never did get married. After we arrived in Miami on the way home from Sts. Peter and Paul Church I asked mom about Alicia. Why did she live with Abuela’s sisters? Why wasn’t she married? Who was her father? Now I wonder why we did not speak to the family in Cuba more often. In that time speaking long distance was very expensive. Sometimes we had to wait for hours until a phone line would free up. That precious time was better invested in things that were needed and not in speaking to the children. I never was able to speak to her after we got here. Alicia died of colon cancer. She was very young. In Spanish that is called cancer del colon. I always thought it was cancer del codo (cancer of the elbow). My mom and her were close. It was indeed a very sad day when we heard she had died.

I remember very few things about Josefita. I remember she was very old. I now learn that Josefita was a type of nun or religious. She would travel a long way just to teach catechism across town. I remember the day she died. We did not see mom for a few days. One morning I asked Lydia why mom was not home. She said she was at a velorio (wake). She explained that they found Josefita dead (natural causes). She was the first person I knew to have died. I guess mom was making preparations. Mom then arrived and I kept asking her questions. Lydia motioned me to be quiet because mom had not slept at all that night. I think I did. Mom then went to sleep.

Antoñica was one of the other sisters was hard of hearing. We of course had a hard time communicating with her so I really do not remember her. I remember everyone speaking differently to her. (louder). All of abuela’s sisters stayed behind in Cuba. They were old. Perhaps they were afraid of change. Perhaps they were not able to leave. At that time everyone thought we would only be here in the states for a few months, a year at the most. She stayed behind in Cuba and I know her health was a big worry for my grandmother and my mom. She outlived everyone in that family except for Abuela. We had no one to look after her and I must say that the social services system in Cuba seemed to work well. We also had Dolores who would spend a lot of time trying to help her. Since we could not really communicate with Antoñica over the phone, Dolores would help and also let us know what was going on. Dolores is of course Misora’s sister.
I shared the same room with abuela Julia for several years. Sometimes at night she would talk about the family, this is why I remember all of this. Abuela would spend time in three places. She would go to Mexico and stay with Alberto’s family. Over there they would call her “la maxima autoridad” (the maximum authority). She would spend time with us here in Miami, always helping mom and dad by keeping the house for them. She would also go to Philadelphia and stay with Jose Ramon, Yoya and Julita. As she became older and could not travel any longer the doctor did not allow her to go to Mexico or Philadalphia. I know Jose Ramon, Alberto and Julita were upset. I know that Alberto and Jose Ramon were going to talk to el mediquito ese y ya veremos… She was always proud that all the members of her family would want her to go to their house and stay. Her biggest fear was to be a burden to anyone.

...la tetera no llega al suelo...

I remember watching the movie, “An American Tail”, with Cristina. She would always get very sad when Feivel would get lost in the ocean and start yelling Papa…Papa…and the father aboard the boat would yell …Feivel…Feivel….. To this day I think she does not like that movie and gets a headache when she sees it…... My kids are very sentimental… we watched the movie the Lion King in Disney World and when Mustafa is killed…….. I was covered with crying kids in the movie theater. Sad thing was… I was crying too.

There was one famous musical number in “an American tail” where all the mice sing:

"….In America there are no… cats… And …..the streets are made of cheese."

Most people, upon hearing that song would think of West Side Story (…I like to be in America..) I, on the other hand remember when I was very small…

…My parents thought that America was the greatest place there was. In America you can do anything. America had the best athletes, except of course for the baseball players and boxers. As proof of America’s superiority my father would point out, while watching a movie, that the Germans would ask for American cigarettes. Even the matches were better in America. (They had just imported some Russian matches and they would go out before the match reached the cigarette, do not ask how I know that but it was true.) After the “revolution” Cuba had lost touch with America and what was going on there. Wild rumors would circulate on how advanced the Americans were. One of these was

…En los Estados Unidos cuando se abre una botella de Coca Cola, ya esta fria. No hay necesidad de ponerla en el Frigidaire. (In the United States, when you open a Coca Cola bottle, it is already cold. There is no need to refrigerate it.)….

And

…En los Estados Unidos, si a un bebe se le cae la tetera de la cuna, la tetera no llega al suelo. No hay necesidad de esterilizarlas. (In America if a baby drops a pacifier from the crib, it will not reach the floor. There is no need to sterilize it.)

This was in 1964, only five years after the embargo began. I kept hearing about these inventions.

…la ropa se lavaba sola… (clothes would get cleaned by themselves)

I could not wait to go to Miami, where my brother and sister were. I had not seen them in four years. They had come to the United States with my uncle. My parents were afraid that Roberto would be drafted into military service. In Cuba you would be drafted at the age of 12. All of us really missed them. I would get to see them again and could open the Coca Cola bottles and just watch them instantaneously get cold. And throw a pacifier and watch it float.. and dirty the clothes as much as possible, it did not matter anyway. America became a mythical place. I knew that we were in line to go to America but had to wait a number of years to get there. I would ask my father things such as:

… Papi, es verdad que en America uno puede volar en avion sin tener que esperar? (Dad is it true that in America you could fly on an airplane and not have to wait for years?) He would reply..mijo en America puedes ir a el aeropuerto y comprar pasaje para viajar ese mismo dia. (You could buy tickets and fly on the same day). I would think to myself WOW…..

Every once in a while Teresa or Robert would write us letters, in the letters they would place things for us. They were thin items because over there they would open all the mail before you got them. If it was too valuable, it would never get to us. ….. In one letter they placed a throw away ball point pen. This thing was amazing. You could click it and the point would come out. If you clicked it again it would go back in. It also had some letters on the side. I do not remember what they were but I believe it was the name of a hotel or a restaurant, maybe a bank…. We were very impressed. (I am sure there were pens in Cuba, I just had never seen one like this one.) Other times they would place a stick of Wrigley’s gum in the envelope. ……WOW!!!!! Carlos and I would share the stick. He would break off a piece about half a cm on each side and give it to me. He would break another piece about the same size for himself. We would save the rest for later. You could not taste anything. We all thought it was great, however. Not all food was available after the “revolution”. We were not starving, as anyone who saw me at that time would attest, but we did not get our choice of food. We would eat the same thing every day. Potaje. Potaje de garbanzo, potaje de judias…mas potaje… Carlos would tell me about this mythical food, it was called jamon. He remembered when he had tried it the year before. It was pink. I kept asking him questions about ham. I had no idea what to expect. Apparently we were only allowed to have it once a year. Carlos had heard the news that we were about to have jamon. I was thrilled with enthusiasm. …..Esta noche comiamos jamon…... That night Lydia, mi tata, served us each one slice of ham. Again we cut it into small pieces so it would last longer. We kept saying …WOW… I was kind of

disappointed but I did not say it.

We could not wait to go to America. Things were getting scarce. My little brother Juan Pablo had to be in a hand-me down playpen. These playpens were not made from cloth mesh or plastic vinyl, they were made out of wood. They looked like a crib but they were square. They had vertical bars which looked like the child was in prison. Think of Michael J. Fox and uncle Joey in Back to the Future. This playpen had been used by a number of us and it was not in the best of shape. Juanpi figured out the playpen was not the strongest and actually maneuvered one of the bars off the playpen. Then he took off another one. One day we found him instead of in the playpen, on the floor. He was one happy Cuban kid. He was gateando (means crawling but literally means making like a cat) and laughing at the same time. We had to put him back in the crib. He must have been at most one year old. We put the bars back, but he knew which ones they were. We braced the playpen against the corner so the walls would stop him from getting out. Every once in a while someone would say, Han visto a Juanpi? and the whole family would mobilize trying to find him. We would find the playpen pushed away from the wall and it was empty. We would finally find him. Even at that age nunca se quedaba tranquilo. Once he was under a table. Another time he was under a bed. I think we were finally able to fix the playpen somehow.

We left Cuba and had to go to Spain to then go to Miami. While in Spain papi would walk around the neighborhood we were in and we would see shops which had meats hanging from the roof. I would ask papi…papi que es eso…. Mijo eso es jamon…I would point out another one and he would say ..mijo eso es mortadella. Once we arrived in Miami and got to the airport everyone was there. Some of these family members I had only seen in pictures. They all knew me. Tio Lulo greeted me with ..berraco.. ( I do not know what that means but I take it as an affectionate term) There were lots of hugs etc.. Heriber, one of my cousins, was the nicest. He took me to a coin operated machine. This thing was huge. He put money into it……. I was so excited…... Can you imagine what was coming out of the machine. This is the land of self cooling Coca colas. Where you could take a pacifier and try to hit the floor and it would not get there. Where clothes would clean themselves. I could not wait. My mind was expecting to be totally blown away. After the machine went through all the gyrations, Heriber gave me a plastic dinosaur. It was hot!!. I burned myself…. Later my cousin Silvia offered me some gum. I took the stick and broke off a piece and gave it back to her… She told me I could keep it. WOW…. Silvia took another piece of gum, and put the whole thing it her mouth. WOW!!!!!!…………..I like to be in America…

What I remember of El Nautico

We used to live in a pink house having two floors. Looking away from the house towards the west we would see a large empty field. North of this field was a house and north of this house was my grandparent’s home. Abuelo’s house was large. It was made of bricks, much like those they use in the University of Florida, only a little lighter in color. Crossing the street was a sidewalk and then the Atlantic Ocean (actuallythe Straits of Florida). There was no beach there. There were very sharp rocks. A certain places the rocks were cut and a small swimming hole type thing was made. We called them posetas. There was an opening, roughly the size of a door which led straight into the sea. When it was high tide the posetas were deep. When it was low tide it was shallower. Once in a

while for a few days they would have sailboat regattas. We all knew the names of the boats and pretended (at least I did) to know what was going on in the race. Looking south from my parent’s house was another empty field but much smaller. Across the street was Teresita’s house. It was at this house that my father would go to play domino with his friends. North of our house was a house owned by a young couple named Isaac and Anita. North of this house were three houses which were owned by my grandfather where my uncles and aunts lived (futi, lulo, Eduardo). Going around this house was Ester’s house. I do not remember much about her except that she always wore sandals. Next to that house was a family named Bustamante. We always watched what we said around them because they were politically active (members of the defense committee).
Crossing the street from Bustamante’s house was the first poseta. The sidewalk next to the ocean was sometimes full of tar, which we believed was due to boats leaking oil. One would have to be careful when sitting down since you could get big black ugly stain on your pants. Two blocks east was a second poseta. It was always said that these things were made so they could bathe the animals. We used them as our own swimming pools. The water was very clean since it was ocean water, but sometimes unexpected wildlife did seem to appear. Every day around 6 pm a shark would swim in to the entrance of the poseta and at 6:05 it would swim away. People said you could set your watch by it. One day someone killed the shark. It was a small shark, possible a nurse shark. I do not know why they did that. I now feel sorry for the shark. As you would drive north from this point the street turned south and later on you would reach the famous place called El Malecon. This was a very long sea wall which Cuban families and couples still pass the time there.

This neighborhood was an exclusive one. There was a guard at the entrance. The entrance was a big blue structure that thinking back on it was rather modern for its time.
In the entrance to my house there were three steps. The front door was made out of glass and once I remember there was much controversy since the wind had broken the glass and it was shattered all over the place. It was concluded that my dad had left it open when he returned home. Upon entering the house there was a huge stairs. At the top of the stairs was a painting of the sacred heart. On the left were our rooms (this I am not too sure about). On the first floor on the left of the stairway was the living and dining room areas. Behind the stairs was the kitchen. Beneath the stairs was a closet which was literally packed with toys. As my cousins kept leaving for the states they would leave all the toys to us. We literally did not really know what was in there. Behind the dining room was the patio. It was not a big back yard in fact it was small. Part of it was covered and half of it was not. It was surrounded by a brick wall around 3 feet high. There were bushes all around it. Some of these were hibiscus, because I remember playing with the flowers. There were other multicolored and darker bushes all around. It was here where I planted corn which grew tremendously.

It was the filling

When abuelo Arturo y Abuela Maximina left Cuba, they left with us and moved to Miami with us. They even lived in the same house for the first few days. In fact our house was the temporary shelter for every Lopez family member, even some more distant relatives who I did not know. At one point there were more than 20 people living in that house although not for very long, perhaps a few days. Later abuelo and abuela moved to an apartment close to West Flagler although I do not really know what the address was. I know there was a motel we passed on the way back with the name “Ramona”. We all joked about it. Our sense of humor has changed since then. They subsequently moved to a house which was three blocks from ours on the other side of Sts. Peter and Paul. We could easily identify it as the house with the airplane in the carport. The owner had a small airplane, with no wings, but with the motor still functional, in the carport. He would sometimes start it up and at the time we would always wonder why he would do that. It is not like he was going to go anywhere. Abuelo said he was a come mie…. One time the guy bought a bird for $400. He was proud of that bird but abuelo was kind of upset at him. I do not know why, he was just the landlord. I asked abuelo, was it a pretty bird. Abuelo was kind of surprised and said “ estaba bonito pero mas bonito estaba el dinero” (It may be a pretty bird but he liked the money better). At that time abuelo had lost most of his sizable fortune so I guess it was understandable.

It was summer vacation and I must have been around 10 or 11 years old and had just gotten a fairly nice bicycle (de uso from Merl’s bicycle shop). Almost every morning I would go riding to their house and hang out. There was always something going on there since cousins from all over the place would visit. One day it was particularly quiet and I started talking to Abuela. She started telling me about Arturo (the eldest son, see previous entry) and about their children going through so much en el exilio. They were all working as “lava platos” (dishwashers), bellhops, porters and janitors. She was telling me how she always dreamed of all of them being more educated. He was kind of blaming their current state on her husband, abuelo. She was almost in tears. It was kind of sad and I remember then trying to get away from the topic so when abuelo Arturo joined us (I think he may have been making me pan con mantequilla, his specialty) I asked if they remembered El Dia del vomito. They really did not know what I was talking about I described what I remembered about it…
…We lived in the Reparto Nautico. Abuelo and Abuela lived in the big house in the corner facing the ocean. Across the street were three houses which were joined together in the second floor. These houses belonged to tia futi, tio lulo and tio Eduardo. Jorgito was a little boy who lived two houses away from us in the houses formerly occupied by Tio Eduardo and his family. It was Jorgito’s birthday in 1964 or perhaps a little earlier, and his family decided to make a cake and celebrate the birthday. My cousins had already left for Miami so different people moved into the house. The people who moved in was Jorgito, Vipa y Daniel. They had a cousin whose name was El Coco. His girlfriend was Ibelize I think. She was very pretty and would read us stories outside the house. I think Turi or Carlos had a crush on her. Not me uh uh. I liked Susana, she was the wife of Dr. Raimundo or Reynaldo or some other name starting with the letter r. It was the day of Jorgito’s birthday. It was a party and we did not have that many parties at that time. It was very difficult to get the stuff that was needed to celebrate a party. After the party, in which they even had a piñata, people returned to their homes and that evening we heard of people around the neighborhood were getting sick. All of a sudden I started vomiting. Everyone but Carlos, my brother, vomited…….
……Abuelo and Abuela now remembered what I was talking about. They then talked about the way they remembered everything. Everyone in the whole neighborhood began to get sick. Some actually went to the hospital or the clinica. They spoke about specific individuals and how they were affected. Abuelo then started laughing. He remembered and said that not everyone was vomiting. “Esta no vomitaba,” (pointing towards abuela). She had it coming out the other end. “First it was gas……” This conversation went on for a while. At first abuela seemed mad at him; actually she was probably embarrassed. But then in remembering she started laughing too. She laughed so hard they both had to take off their glasses and wipe away tears. While still laughing Abuelo and abuela then said something to the effect “mira que nos hemos reido”….. They seemed to be grateful that they remembered old times. I think at this time I actually acquired a name in the house. Before then I was kind of “uno de los de Roberto.” I was proud and surprised at all of this. I was happy to make them laugh. I really did not do much, just started the conversation.

That summer I spent a lot of time at my grandfather’s house. There was no particular reason, but I was glad I did so. It was fun to go play baskeball at the school and then go to their house afterwards. I think they liked my being there as well. They never said it but then again we never do say it…

As far as why everyone started vomiting, everyone pretty much agreed that it was the cake (it was not like there was that much other food around in 1964..) Carlos proved to be invaluable in the forensic investigation. He was our pickiest eater. I remember he would eat the cake, but not the stuff in between the layers of panatela. He ate the cake but not the filling. It was the filling…definitely the filling.

Roberto, Rosa and El Nautico

Rosa de la Vega was born on December 11, 1928. She is one of five children born to Julia Falcon and Benito Ramon de la Vega. The other siblings are Jose Ramon de la Vega, Alberto de la Vega, Maria de la Vega (twin of Rosa) and Julia de la Vega. The family was from El Vedado which is a suburb in the city of La Habana within the province of La Habana, Cuba.

Roberto Lopez del Valle Izquierdo was born on January 15, 1926, the son of Arturo Lopez Izquierdo and Maximina del Valle. He was one of 8 siblings, Arturo,Amada Ernestina, Ester, Agueda, Fausto and Eduardo. The family originated in “Marianao”.

Maximina del Valle was the daughter of a tabaquero. These were people who made the popular cigars made in Cuba. In these tabaquerias since it was boring for people to just be making cigars, and there was not radio or television, the companies would employ readers who would read everything to the tabaqueros. This would include novellas, news even academic materials. Some of them were very knowledgeable since they were always listening to such materials. Abuela Maximina always said that the reason she was named Maximina was because of a “novelita” that her father liked. The name of the novelita was “Maximina y Riverita”. I always joked that she would have been better off with Riverita. She agreed. Abuela Maximina studied to be a teacher. I do not think she ever practiced the profession, or perhaps she taught for one year and then was married.

Abuelo Arturo was a business man. I know he owned a small restaurant in la playa de Varadero. He was later involved in gambling and was one of the biggest banks in La Habana. I know he was a man who really was loved by a lot of people. When he passed away in Miami, it was the biggest funeral I have ever been to. In fact at the time it was the only funeral I had ever been to. This kind of made all the other ones seem small by comparison.
The eldest of their children was Arturo. My father, Roberto, never met him. Arturo was made to study by his family. Arturo died very young (possibly 11 or 12, perhaps even younger). He developed an acute abdominal pain and was given a “purgante” which I believe is something to induce vomiting. His appendix burst and he passed away. Abuelo Arturo became very sad and he felt particularly bad since he had made his son study so hard that he was not able to live his life. He decided not to make his children study as hard. He did not believe it was that important to study since they were wealthy anyway and would always have enough money to support themselves. All the sons joined in the family business and were not employees outside(except for my dad, which I will explain later). This was something abuela Maximina always regretted, particularly later on when we were in Miami and all of them had to take menial jobs in order to survive. Sometimes when things are tough in my own life, I marvel at how well our parents handled the changes they were going through and the fact that they did not really make us suffer for it.

I remember a lot of incidents in my childhood with abuelo and abuela. There was always a lot of political talk going on in their house. They would always talk about how Fidel nos engano a todos (apparently some were Fidel supporters and later regretted it.
Abuelo and Abuela lived in a very big house in “El Reparto Nautico” which I believe is a small neighborhood in Playa, a municipality of the Province of “La Habana”. It is located west of El Vedado and West of the City of La Habana.
They lived with Tita, one of my father’s sisters, whose real name was Agueda Lopez. The house was made of red or orange bricks. They bricks were kind of rough and would make the perfect surface to scratch your back when it itched on a hot day (actually it worked well on a cold day but it just seemed more poetic to say a hot day). As you went into their house you would see a huge table. Seemed to be a dining room table but it was huge. I sometimes saw abuelo Arturo eating there. Abuelo Arturo and Abuela Maximina loved to be with their family. All of the grandchildren would visit the house periodically. We would always sit aroung the living room which was filled with Cuban sillones. I always loved going to the house. Abuelo would make the best sandwiches, abuela the best picadillo I had ever tasted.

La Familia Lopez

This is a blog of "La Familia Lopez" from El Reparto Nautico in Marianao, a suburb of La Habana Cuba. We are the sons and daughters, grandsons and granddaughters, sons and daughters in law of Roberto Arturo Lopez del Valle and Rosa de la Vega Falcon. This is an effort to preserve what we remember of our family history.
Roberto and Rosa had nine children. Two of them, Roberto and Teresa arrived in Miami, Florida in 1961. Five others,(Carlos, Ramon, Arturo, Rosa Maria, and Juan Pablo) arrived in Miami in 1965 accompanied by their parents and their paternal grandparents, Arturo Lopez Izquierdo and Maximina del Valle. Our two youngest siblings were born in Miami. Ana Maria was born in 1966 and Andres in 1968. (Thanks Andy)!