Tales of a Commie (Part 1) - Getting to Cuba

This is the first installment of what I believe will be 5 describing my trip to Cuba. I've decided to write it this way because I want to make you really work to find out what I did in Cuba...since we can't really have a conversation in person in which I would be really vague, I'm just going to make you read a whole bunch. For some reason this part is mostly in present tense...i don't really know what's up with that. Enjoy!

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On 14 July 2007 I landed in McAllen, TX to begin my mission to Cuba. The group I’m with is called IFCO/Pastors for Peace (Pastors). They are a group that has been involved in promoting various types of solidarity work since the late 1960’s – from foreign work in Latin America to domestic groups in African American movements. At this point all I know of Pastors is that, despite the name, they are not necessarily a Christian organization. They operate on more of a Unitarian mentality, akin to many groups who claim to follow liberation theology. I’m interested to see what type of people I run into. Everyone on the caravan is there because they want to have a part in ending the US blockade against Cuba, and in my experience these types are very anti-American to the point that they blinded by hate from seeing the injustice on the other side of whatever cause they might be serving.
I have two goals for this trip. Primarily I want to learn as much as I can about Cuba in a way that is fair to the truths presented on both the pro and anti-Castro sides of the debate. As with most parts of my life I’m also very interested in meeting the people that I’m on the caravan with learning their stories – why they are involved in this work and where they come from in life.
Our time in Texas had two main purposes. We had to pack, mark, and manifest the aid we were taking into the vehicles that would take us to the Gulf of Mexico as well as learn the basics of what we were going to experience in Cuba and crossing both into Mexico and back into the states in direct violation of the US government. They leadership told war-stories of things that had happened in past year – times when they went on hunger strikes and were beaten by the border officials. Most importantly was that we were to be non-violent and stubborn in any attempt the officials made to pry unnecessary information from us. The worst-case scenario is that they will try to take all of the aid from us and prevent us from being able to take it to Cuba.
In order to save time and space I’ll skip the specifics about the days in McAllen. All that’s really important is that on zero hours of sleep I and busy packing buses and trucks, typing up manifests and translating them into Spanish (I don’t speak Spanish so that was fun), and doing at least one security shift at night from 2 to 4 in the morning. The purpose for security I will take the time to explain. There are two groups out there who will go to great lengths to sabotage the work we are getting ready to do. The first is a group of Cuban people who don’t live in Cuba (they mainly live in Florida/Miami) and are absolutely militant about not supporting the Castro government(1) . The second is the US government. Our fear is that one or both of these groups will attack the credibility of Pastors by planting drugs on our vehicles, so when we cross the border we will get negative press coverage. There’s also the fear of theft, but that isn’t as big of a threat as the former.
On my night shifts doing security there were a lot of cars with darkly tinted windows that would drive by very slowly, numerous times, often times changing the license plates between Mexican plates, Texas plates, and government plates. What were they really going to do? My guess is that it was really only meant as intimidation. The morning before we left they had been circling all night. We were keeping the time we left a secret, even to the people on the caravan, because one year they put up roadblocks so our vehicles couldn’t leave the ‘compound’.
At 4 in the morning we started waking everyone up. On the outside it looked like everything was normal. On the inside though the people were busy getting their stuff ready to rush out to the buses so the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) people wouldn’t try to stop us from leaving. At about 6 a.m. the exodus began. As I stood guard at one of the gates the people made their way to the buses. The buses started, we opened the gates, I boarded one of the buses and off we went to the border. All of the agents that had been patrolling gave us a nice little escort all the way through town to the border. When we got there, there were border patrol cars, lights flashing, blocking the road in order to direct us into a special inspection station. They did very little. We had to get off our buses and they scanned the buses with this giant x-ray machine they have. This is where they took our computers.
When they took the computers off our bus, they did the same thing they did a few weeks prior on the Canadian border when part of our caravan was bringing medical supplies across the border. They said that they would be held for no longer than 30 days in order to determine if they were duel use computers, meaning that they could be used for military purposes. The only resistance I heard about was a smart-ass comment made by the leader of the whole thing, Lucius Walker. A DHS officer asked if he could get a picture with Lucius to show his family and he replied, ‘why don’t you show them a picture of you taking our computers.’ Although that was a funny reply, our lack of resistance led me to question the purpose of our taking all this aid across(2).
The next part was getting through Mexican customs. They too had us pull into a special station. They then told us to take everything off the buses and out of the trucks. We declined their offer. We unloaded about 20 items from each truck so they could compare our manifests. They were told that if they wanted it all unloaded they would have to do it themselves, which naturally made them go by our rules. The communication of the Mexican officials was terrible. We (all 120+ of us) ended up waking back and forth across their whole border place several times before they figured out what the hell they were doing. We were having a problem getting visas for vehicles. Especially a bus that didn’t have a VIN number on it. This bus was packed full with aid. We were just about to get the bus when one of our drivers wrecked into a roof section of an area they told us we had to pull all of our vehicles into. The roof was too short but everyone seemed to have overlooked that.
We got to the border at 7 that morning. The main group left at about noon or 1. A handful of us stayed behind to do whatever was going to have to be done with the bus. On my end of things this was a great opportunity to hang out with some of the best people on the caravan. Eventually we were able to get one of our passenger buses to come and we proceeded to load all of the aid from the condemned bus onto that one. We left the border at midnight that day. We had to be up at 4 the next morning to begin our drive to the Gulf, and the group of us that stayed behind still had to eat and shower. I slept about 2 hours that night at our hotel in Reynosa, Mexico.
In the morning we had to re-pack everything in order fit all of the people and all of the aid in light of the fact that we had a full bus less space than we did the day before. Before all of this took place though a lady came up and offered to buy me a cup of coffee and breakfast at the 7-11. She ended up being one of my favorite people ever. Her name is Diane. She has been at this protest business for a long time. As an example how involved she is, she was invited to Loretta Scott King’s funeral. She has a condition similar to MS. About 90% of her muscle is deteriorating but that doesn’t stop her from going out there and getting arrested and telling the government what she thinks. I can’t really say what it is, but there is just something about her that makes her one of the most pleasant people I’ve ever met.
Back to the re-packing… Just as we got the plan together and began pulling all of the stuff off to re-pack, the sky bursts open dumping flood-worthy amounts of water on us. Despite that we continued to pack. Some people were complaining, but those were the people who complained about most everything. I guess they don’t understand that this trip isn’t a vacation. Finally we began making our way to Tampico, Mexico. We arrived close to midnight and unloaded all of the aid onto containers that would be put onto barges. That night we were to stay at a hotel that would have showers, breakfast, and a pool. The last group of us got the hotel at about 4 in the morning. We had to leave at 6 in order to catch our plane at 7:30 that morning. Most of us didn’t sleep. We swam, ate, and showered then got on the buses to the airport.

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1. Before the revolution most of the bigger industries of Cuba were owned by rich American individuals and corporations. Agriculture being the best example. On these massive farms Cubans were employed for very poor wages and kept in plantation style accommodations while the landowners realized huge profits. Most of these plantations were run by Cubans who were paid a lot by the Americans to keep the workers under control. When Castro assumed power he set out to redistribute the property. He gave much of the property to the workers who had been exploited for so many years. It was theirs to own and maintain for generations to come. The Cubans who had once enslaved their own people sought exile in the US. Here they tried to get their property back. The new Cuban government said that they would give them their property but only a portion that they could farm on their own. They weren’t about to let the people be subject to those conditions again and they were also concerned that too much useable land my go un-farmed. To this day those once rich anti-revolutionary Cubans wage a war to end the Castro government.

2. I’ve written a letter to IFCO saying that I think the trip needs to be more aggressive, not in terms of violence but in our active resistance, if we’re going to make any progress. I may post the letter some time.