Health, Economics and Travel
Life’s Greatest Blessing: Family
By: Gabriel Toledo
This is a picture of a brother and sister who have not seen each other in nearly five decades. I was the medium through which messages were exchanged between them. When he saw current pictures of her, he was completely frozen and whispered, "I haven't heard her voice in a very long time." I then played the private message she recorded in my phone for him before I left the U.S. He became so happy to hear her voice and thought it was a phone call so he began to yell on the phone. After he relaxed, we had to explain to him that it was just a message and he would have the opportunity to leave a recorded message for her in return. He then listened more closely to the recording, dropped the phone, put his hands over his face, and began to cry. We felt his pain as we were embracing him: just imagine not seeing your brother, sister, or any of your family members nearly 5 decades, seeing pictures and not being able to identify who that person is because you don't even know how they look like now, and the joy and anguish of hearing and listening to that person’s voice after 46 years. Well this is their reality and this is my family’s story.
Escaping Communism
He could hear the heavy footsteps chasing after him. His heart was racing as he was running away as fast as he could. He worried that he would get caught snatching a piece of bread out of somebody's hand. With his street smarts, Ramon faded into the inner streets of Güines, Cuba without getting caught. Ramon brought the bread back to his family which consisted of three sisters, mother and father. That stolen piece of bread was the only thing they had eaten that entire day. This was one of the many fond memories Ramon and his family remembered of their everyday struggle in Cuba. Not having anywhere to stay, nothing to eat, Ramon and his family lived their lives in fear. Petrified of the reality they had to face every day.
Their parents were not able to give them the things they wanted, such as the clothes they wanted to wear or new shoes. Ramon and his sisters were never able to look presentable in public because they wore the same clothes every day. On March 1st, 1970, the Cuban government announced that anyone who wanted to leave Cuba could do so (Freedom Flights). Ramon and his family did not hesitate and took complete advantage because it was their last and only opportunity for a better life. Unfortunately, serious sacrifices needed to be made. They knew once they left they were to never return. They also knew that they were leaving their, loved ones behind, family members they may never see again. This is my Cuban American family and Ramon is my father.
Sacrificing for the Right Resolution
The only thing my family had to rely on was one another. My grandfather had no family to rely on; both of his parents were killed by yellow fever when he was just four years old. My grandmother, Ana, had 12 siblings which consisted of ten brothers and two sisters along with her mother and father. Through different forms and variations, most of the family made it safely to the United States, Florida to be exact. To make a long story very concise, Ana had to make a decision that would change her and her immediate family’s life forever. To either stay in Cuba with her father and raise her children in communism or go to the United States with no money, practically no clothes, having the inability to speak English, and never see her father ever again. She made her decision and hugged her father for one last time.
The Youngest Brother: Nivaldo
However, one of her brothers, Nivaldo, stayed in Cuba. Ana was the oldest of all the siblings and Nivaldo was the second to youngest. The last time they saw each other, Nivaldo was only 16 years old and my father was only five years old. Nivaldo lived his entire life in Cuba and because of limitations, was never able to see his family ever again besides the family he and his wife built. He has been denied a total of 16 times to come to the United States being listed as a “possible immigrant.” No one in my family returned to Cuba not only because the trauma that it has caused our family but also because of the fear they have of not being able to return to the United States.
A Story That Became a Dream
I will never forget the day my grandmother told me the story when I was just a little boy but old enough to understand the magnitude of what I was about to be told. She told the story in a very low tone of voice, very slowly as if it hurt to even remember the events of which occurred. She couldn’t even look me in my eyes without crying and as much as it hurt her just telling the story; it hurt just listening to it. My grandmother, who is the strongest woman I know, folded. She thought she would never see or hear from her younger brother ever again. I promised her that she will and I will do anything in my power to make it happen. I held on to my word as I promised her.
The day before my flight, my grandmother woke me up bright and early and dragged me to the living room to show me that she was almost already done packing my suitcase! After we touched up on minor things about what was packed she handed me two bags. Both bags were filled with deodorant sticks, tooth brushes, toothpaste tubes, disposable razors, Tylenol pills, soap, etc. I asked my grandmother why she picked these things to send to them. Sobbing painfully, she replied, “These are things we take for granted because we can get them ten steps away at any time, but these things are very hard to consume in Cuba so it is treated as gold.” After my suitcase reached its capacity, my grandmother looked at me and said, “Never in my life would I have imagined helping my grandchild pack to go to Cuba.” A long with my father, we spent the rest of the day just enjoying each other’s company before my flight at seven in the morning the next day.
Next Stop, Cuba!
On my flight to Cuba I closed my eyes and reminisced on all of the times my family and I talked about the aspiration of fulfilling this dream. Slowly walking down the steps from the plane I immersed myself in the beaming rays of the Cuba sun. I placed my carry-on book bag on the ground, forbearingly kneeled down, kissed the ground, stood up and looked towards the sky. Underneath my breath I said, “We did it.” After going through customs and picking up my luggage, the professors, students and I decided to walk outside in an attempt to find taxis. As I was walking I heard a very faint voice repeating my name, “Gabriel.. Gabriel.. Gabriel..” So faint that I thought there was a voice in my head. I quickly turned around then looked over my left shoulder.
There she was, my cousin awaiting me with open arms. My heart stopped and my eyes completely lit up! I was absolutely shocked and the reason for her faint voice was because she did not know if it was actually me since it has been so long since we’ve last seen each other. I proceeded to ask how she knew I was coming to Cuba and she said my grandmother and father got a hold of her on face book and they gave her the time of my arrival. “There was no way you were coming to Cuba to not be welcomed by your family”, this is what my cousin told me in my ear as we embraced in a bear-tight hug. She handed me a piece of paper with a number on it and said that it was Nivaldo’s sons’ number.
After two days of rigorous work of meeting with different researchers learning about gender, race, and religion I decided to pick up the hotel phone and call the number my cousin gave to me. The phone did not even ring for five seconds and a scream busted out, “Gabriel!” I smiled from cheek to cheek like I have never smiled before. We selected a day and time to meet and I couldn’t be more ecstatic. Monday at five in the afternoon was the day and time for us to finally meet. The time has finally come. I was in my room and my heart was skipping a few beats, pacing myself back and forth, all while trying to compose myself of all the mixed emotions I was experiencing. I had to make sure I looked presentable when I met my
Family Member from Cuba Travels to the United States
In 2008, my cousin from Cuba came to the United States for her first time to do some research in New York for her profession. She stayed with my father, my grandmother, and me. She was to work out of the American Museum of Natural History and she did not know a drop of English so I served as her translator for that week. At the time I really didn’t know the reality of how poor Cuba is, one thing is to hear it and another thing is to live it. One night, my grandmother sat her down and started to ask her a barrage of questions about the family. My cousin’s father, who is one of my grandmother’s brothers, fled Cuba but left his daughters a long time ago for work purposes and has been sending money to financially provide for them. They never really had a strong relationship so she was more drawn to her mother’s side of the family. Therefore, my cousin did not know of the whereabouts of my grandmother’s brother, Nivaldo. Shortly after this conversation ended, my cousin went to go take a shower. Three hours passed by and she was still in the shower! Once she got out and I asked her, “Are you okay? What happened to you?” With a slight grin she replied, “One day you will understand.” In that short amount of time, I grew very close to her but once she left back to Cuba we lost connection with each other.
The Door Opens
I knew I would be ready for when the opportunity to go to Cuba would present itself. One evening I was scrolling through my school email and the opportunity stood out like a sore thumb and I jumped on it immediately. I secured my spot on the study abroad excursion and the first thing I did was call my grandmother. After she picked up and we shared our greetings I broke the news to her. The call went silent and I said hello about three or four times before realizing I heard shallow weeping in the background. I then continued to say, “We are going to make this dream come true, just like how I promised you.” Upon my return home to New Jersey from Pennsylvania, the moment I saw my grandmother we embraced as if it were years since we’ve last seen each other. I only had two days to situate myself accordingly before my departure Cuba.
family so I jumped into the shower so I can replenish myself. As I stand under the shower head, I turn the knob that controls the hot water and the knob just fell to the floor. I then try to turn on the other knob which controls the cold water and only three drops of water dripped from the shower head. Shortly after, theshower head dropped to the floor because the hinge wasn’t strong enough to support it. I concluded that there was no water in my room and in the entire hotel for that matter so I impatiently showered with three water bottles. I uttered “Ahh now I know why she told me that one day I will understand why she stood in the shower for three hours.” If those were my day to day living conditions, I would also take advantage of an unlimited supply of water to bathe myself in. I dressed myself, sat down on my bed and mentally prepared myself as I made my way downstairs to the hotel lobby. Now I was just standing about ten yards away from the main entrance playing the waiting game.
Dreams Do Come True
It was well past five in the afternoon so I slowly began to lose hope. “Maybe they forgot..” I kept telling myself. I leaned on a wall and just looked at the floor in a sad fashion. “Primo!” I heard. There at the entrance was my cousin who I love dearly, Nivaldo’s son and daughter, my 20 year old cousin Ernesto and his girlfriend, and my two other cousins who are 12 and six. I sprinted towards them and we each individually greeted ourselves. We were all happy and suffocated with emotions. After some quick-short conversations, I noticed that Nivaldo wasn’t with us so I asked where he was. They didn’t say a word, they pointed towards the door directing me to go outside. I walked outside and standing just feet away from me was an elderly man dressed very nicely. We looked at each other and began to smile; I began to cry as I was walking towards him. In our embrace, in a shortness of breath I said “Nivaldo.” At that moment my dream, my grandmother’s dream, and my family’s dream turned into a living reality. The rest is history.