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Published: September 8th 2008
I don't think it's easy for people of my generation to view Cuba with equanimity. After all, when I was 15 years old, I had good reason to believe Fidel Castro's tiny island might ignite a nuclear war. I am, of course, referring to the 1962 confrontation between the United States and Russia, known as the Cuban Missile Crisis, where John F. Kennedy went mano a mano with Nikita Krushchev, and, without exaggeration, the fate of the world hung in the balance. At least it felt that way. I don't have many memories of that year, but one of the most vivid was attending a New York Giants-Washington Redskins game with my brother, at Yankee Stadium, on Sunday, October 28th, and hearing an earth-shattering cheer when announcer Bob Sheppard interrupted the game to inform us that Krushchev had blinked and issued orders to withdraw the missiles that had been aimed at our shores.
The reason for these recollections is to give you an insight into my state of mind upon hearing, last spring, that Lincoln Square Synagogue was sponsoring a mission to Cuba for the purpose of "engaging in...religious activities" with its Jews. I had often traveled to "Communist"
China in the last few years, but Cuba was the real thing: a country that still took every aspect of Communism seriously. Did I still have that spirit of adventure? We signed up, and on Sunday morning, July 3rd, flew to Miami to connect with the small prop jet that would take 21 of us, led by our rabbi, Shaul Robinson, to Havana.
The Office of Foreign Assets Control of the US Treasury Department sanctions travel to Cuba only for research, educational or humanitarian purposes. A State Department handout, in describing Cuba's government, states: "Totalitarian Communist state; current government assumed power by force on January 1, 1959. The Cuban Government continues to adhere to socialist principles in organizing its state-controlled economy. Cuba's totalitarian regime controls all aspects of life through the Communist Party. The government places severe limitations on freedom of speech and press. The government does not tolerate dissent. Prison conditions are harsh and life-threatening." Why are we here?? There is a tiny Cuban Jewish community numbering approximately 1,500 people, mainly based in Havana. The purpose of our trip was to visit them in their three synagogues, bring them specifically requested medicines, and demonstrate the fact that American
Jews were concerned about their plight.
Our small plane left Miami in a monsoon, flew the short distance to Havana in sunshine, and then descended into a rainstorm. We were told that, for the small airline that flies the Miami-Havana route, the most profitable aspect is being able to charge for excess baggage, as many who receive a license to visit family members bring huge amounts of luggage. As a result, the airline needs to send most of the luggage on a separate plane. As we watched the workers at Jose Marti Airport unloading the luggage in the pouring rain, Rabbi Robinson quipped: "Look how happy the workers look." We piled into a shuttle bus in which water was leaking profusely and drove across the runway in zero visibility. Gloria Kestenbaum commented: "We are about to see many things we've never seen before," to which the rabbi replied: "There are many things I hope we see again." (At one point someone said to the rabbi: "Do you hope to get ideas for next week's sermon," and he replied: "No, I hope to give Morty some ideas for his e-mails.")
I had wondered if I should wear the New
York Yankee baseball cap that is my usual informal headgear. Would I be singled out for scorn as a hated American if I wore it? My question was quickly answered as we met Alain, who was to be our guide for the next five days. On his head was a mint condition Yankee cap ("signed by Reggie Jackson") that had been the gift of a grateful tourist. Alain turned out to be a voracious Yankee fan, attuned to the most up-to-date information on the team, gleaned from the satellite dish he had surreptitiously installed on the roof of his apartment building and from watching ESPN on the televisions in hotel lobbies as he awaited his groups. In addition to the hat, Alain sported an Obama button on his backpack, and an almost perfect command of English. He is 40 years old and has never set foot off the island. He kept up a constant stream of criticism of the Cuban government and affection for all things American (except George Bush), but, through it all one could also discern deep feelings for El Commandante, Fidel Castro, with great pride and appreciation for his concern for the people of Cuba.
We
boarded a gleaming, modern, air conditioned bus, complete with rest room and refrigerator and drove into the city. Our first stop was Plaza de la Revolucion, "Revolution Square," the huge, bleak public space where Fidel Castro gave his public addresses, sometimes, allegedly, to one million people. It is dominated by a huge monument to Jose Marti, a leader of the Cuban independence struggle with Spain, and on the far side of the square is a huge image of Che Guevara with the slogan 'Hasta la Victoria Siempre' (Forever Onwards Towards Victory) that identifies the Ministry of the Interior building.
From there it was a short ride to our hotel, the Parque Central. Here is how Rabbi Robinson described his first impressions: "To go to Havana is to step foot into another world...like going back in time 50 years to a place of economic stagnation. Cars from the 40's and 50's jostle with horse-drawn carriages...on pockmarked roads. Dirt and decay is everywhere. It is a broken down, malodorous place and signs of poverty abound." One can see how Havana was once described as the "Paris of the Caribbean," in the architecture of its residential buildings and the graceful way it
was designed, like a European capitol, around a series of gracious public squares. But now, it is far more Gaza City than City of Lights.
The moment we alighted from the bus we were set upon by beggars, mostly children. Inside the hotel we were pleasantly surprised. It is a well maintained, almost modern, oasis, amidst the dust and decay surrounding it. As our luggage was being unloaded, we ascended a wide staircase in the center of the lobby to a four-sided mezzanine that formed an atrium. Once there, we were each given a Mojito, "the Cuban national drink," and were serenaded by a three-man mariachi band. We settled into our clean, cool and comfortable rooms, unpacked, and then headed off to the Adat Israel Synagogue for dinner.
The synagogue, and the two others we visited subsequently, is a 1950's structure not that much different from the ones scattered all across America. The sanctuary is a big box with undistinguished architecture and decorative touches. What caught everyone's attention, however, was the fact that it was immediately accessible from the street. It is located on a narrow avenue, surrounded by low residential buildings and shops, with absolutely no security
precautions. There is no fence; there are no security guards; there is no metal detector....you just walk in. This was true at all three Jewish institutions we visited. To quote Rabbi Robinson again: "Cubans are not, as far as I can see, Anti-Semites. In a store a person asked where I was from. I said: 'New York.' He pointed at my kipah and said: 'no, where are you from?' I said: "synagogo.' Ah, they said, synagogo, and the people standing around him all smiled and shook my hand."
The fall of the Soviet Union in 1990 was a seminal event in Cuban history, removing, as it did, the key financial supporter of the Castro regime. Fidel had to scramble to replace the Russian support and one of the ways he did that was to relax religious restrictions, which opened the way to the renovation and rejuvenation of Cuban Jewish institutions.
Thanks to the work of the Joint Distribution Committee (JDC) and other organizations, synagogues have been refurbished and maintained. Intermarriage is almost universal and there is no religious education of any kind, but since Castro began relaxing the official disapproval, the congregations seem to have assumed the role
of a life raft for the Jewish community, making available a free chicken dinner each Friday night (for many Cuban Jews their only complete meal of the week), a breakfast each morning, and religious and cultural activities. Almost alone among the Cuban people, young Jews have been allowed to visit family abroad, take Taglit-Birthright trips, and even make aliyah.
There is virtually no kosher food in Cuba, and what there is cannot be properly supervised. Even Chabad does not have a presence, although they send occasional emissaries and are probably salivating at the prospect of assuming control of the three lovely facilities we saw, post-Castro. So, how did we eat? Our trip was organized by travel agent extraordinaire Batia Plotch. Batia has brought over 60 Jewish groups to Cuba and knows everyone and everything there is to know about its Jewish community, and much, much more. Batia saw to it that we would eat the seven lunch and dinner meals of our trip at the various synagogues. She supervised the menus, brought new pots and utensils, and, under Rabbi Robinson's kashruth supervision, all the (parve) meals were edible, if not memorable. They usually featured a fruit compote, some type
of dry fish, rice, salad, and a dessert of fresh fruit.
After our first Cuban meal, at which we were joined at each table by members of the congregation, we were given a tour of the synagogue, including its own small museum, which gave us a taste of some of the communal activities in the 1950's. It was unusual to see receipts to a local clothing manufacturer for his donation to the annual fundraising Bazaar, enshrined in a vitrine. On the wall was a framed letter, dated November 11, 2002, from Steven Spielberg which stated: "When I see how much cultural restoration has been performed by you and others it reminds me again about why I am so proud to be a Jew. Thank you."
The next morning we headed back to the Adat Israel Synagogue for shachrit, and then traveled about 20 minutes to the old town of Guanabacoa to visit the 1911 Macabbeus Cemetery, which is located on a smooth steep hill. The beautiful series of tombstones, and a few mausoleums, show different burial traditions. Inscriptions are in Hebrew, Yiddish, and Spanish. Memorial artwork includes universal Jewish symbols like the Menorah, candlestick, Star of David, and
Lion of Judah. Since it is the Ashkenazic cemetery, inscribed names and birthplaces are of people from Eastern and Central Europe. The general layout holds to universal Jewish tradition. A room for conducting taharot is located at the entrance of the cemetery with a working faucet to allow the participants to wash their hands upon departing. The cemetery is still active. Pollution, corrosion, vandalism, and a lack of maintenance and funds seriously threaten the marble, limestone and bronze memorial art.
As our group walked through the cemetery, some wondered if we would find any tombstones with recognizable names or names of relations. Sure enough, Bina Presser found a stone dedicated to Genendel Preser, 1884-1959, and seemed certain that she must have been a distant relative.
From there, we went to the nearby Casa Ernest Hemingway which was the author's Cuban home from 1940 to 1960. It is now a museum which contains his library of 9,000 books, with his stuffed big game souvenir heads hanging on the walls, and the desk and typewriter on which he wrote many of his works laid out just the way they were when he lived there.
At lunchtime, we visited Havana's
Sephardic congregation, Shevat Ajim, which is in (what once was) a wealthier and less congested section of the city, close to the harbor. The "waitress" who served our meal introduced herself as Esther, the Vice President of the community. When we got to know her we discovered that she was a radiologist, who, earlier in her career, was sent by the Cuban government to serve in Angola for two years. Our guide told us that Cuban medical personnel are one of Cuba's few exports, and that many doctors are now sent to Venezuela in exchange for Hugo Chavez's deeply discounted oil deliveries.
On Tuesday morning, by popular demand, we visited the Corona Cigar factory. I thought I was back in China as I watched hundreds of hand-workers skillfully wrapping cigars. This factory produces over 40,000 cigars per day under the famous brand names: Montecristo, Romeo y Juliet, Partegas, and Cohiba, to name a few. According to our guide, some of the various brand names derive from the fact that to mitigate boredom, books were read aloud to the workers and favored books were honored by having cigars named after them. Today, the factory pipes in the state radio station.
As we traversed the plant, we were constantly motioned to by workers surreptitiously offering us cigars they had pilfered, for two pesos. It was surreal, but, with the average salary in Cuba pegged at around $16. per month (the workers in the cigar factory earn more than professors at Cuban universities) our guide stated that everyone in Cuba must find an illegal way to supplement her income. As we left the factory, there were people in the street offering to sell us bootlegged (empty) cigar boxes, as well.
Then came one of the highlights of our trip. We visited the Patronado Synagogue and Beth Shalom Community Center. Patronado is the largest synagogue in Havana, with a 700 seat sanctuary. The Patronato complex also boasts a pharmacy, where the B'nai B'rith Cuban Jewish Relief Project and other supporters keep the shelves well stocked with antibiotics, vitamins, prescription & over-the-counter medications, as well as medical supplies. Government pharmacies are usually sparse. Dr. Rosa Behar administers the pharmacy and distributes these important supplies to the Jewish communities throughout the island. In addition, the Patronato distributes other necessities such as clothing, powdered milk, food and religious items received from humanitarian efforts. Bringing these
medications to the Jewish community is one of the key aspects of a "mission" to Cuba and I estimate that each of us gave them a shopping-bag-full.
Our next port of call was the US Embassy, which, though it is in the former United States Embassy building, is now officially called "The US Interests Section of the Embassy of Switzerland." Here there were security guards!! I wondered how much there is to do at the US Interests Section, since we were greeted by the Deputy Chief of the Mission (the Chief was in America) and then the Political/Economic Counselor, the Consul General, and the Public Affairs Officer spent 90 minutes with us, describing their work and answering our questions. The consul praised us for coming and "maintaining contact with ordinary Cubans who are not anti-American." Prior to the start of the formal program, one of the consular officials asked us if we would like to purchase tee shirts that had been produced by the US Marine Security Guard Detachment in Havana. The shirts, available in a number of colors and sizes, feature a cartoon of a cigar chomping Marine, holding a smoking rifle, standing astride the Embassy building, surrounded
by the words: "Marine Security Guard Detachment Havana, 90 Miles From Sanity." As we all trooped back onto the bus clutching our tee shirts, our guide, who had not been allowed to enter the building with us, looked visibly annoyed.
The Embassy is located on the beautiful Havana waterfront promenade known as the Malecon. At our briefing, there had been much discussion of the US boycott of Cuba. After viewing the disaster that Cuba has become, and knowing that Cuba no longer has the resources or, seemingly, the will, to support the guerilla movements that were a hallmark of Cuban foreign policy in the '70's and '80's, one wonders why the embargo is not lifted? On the other hand, the entire rest of the globe has relations and trade with Cuba, and, from tourism, alone (which has become the island's largest industry) one would have hoped that a far better life could have been created for its 11 million residents. It could have been the Riviera!
Speaking of the Riviera, after dinner and services (our group participated in 13 minyanim on this trip), we visited the Riviera Hotel, which is also on the Malecon. The Riviera was built by Gangster Meyer Lansky in the 1950's and its original architect was Philip Johnson, who pulled out when he objected to some design changes proposed by the head of "Murder, Inc." The hotel would fit perfectly on Collins Avenue in Miami Beach, or at one of the late, lamented Catskills resorts, like the Concord,and, as with everything else, has become dilapidated. As we toured the lobby, Richard Kestenbaum, expressing the feelings of all of us, proclaimed: "Where's the tea room? I feel a craving for a macaroon." The lobby was filled with teenage girls, heavily made up and scantily clad, earning their own black market supplementary income. Alain commented that with the fact that all Cubans receive free education through high school, "we have the best educated hookers in the world."
Upon our return to the Parque Central, we discovered that a number of members of our group had availed themselves of the "discount" cigars for sale at the factory, and we all repaired to the hotel's rooftop lounge (Havana looks glorious, at night, from above) to enjoy them, and discuss our experiences and reactions.
Wednesday was our last full day and we began it with a visit to the Old Havana rehabilitation. This small section of the city is being repaired, house by house, by a semiprivate corporation headed by an architectural historian, and offers hope that the lovely character of much of Havana may someday be saved and preserved. (At one point, one of the members of our group thought he had lost his passport and might be facing an indefinite stay in Havana. Getting into the spirit of things he proclaimed: "Give me two cans of Benjamin Moore and I'll change the whole city!") We also visited the Museum of the Revolution, which is incomprehensible to a non-Spanish speaker, and mainly dedicated to "dissing" a certain neighbor 90 miles to the North.
After another visit to the Sephardic synagogue for lunch, we were joined by a prominent Cuban architect and architectural historian, Dr. Mario Coyula. Dr. Coyula, who is 72 years old, was a revolutionary colleague of Fidel Castro in his years in the hills of Oriente Province, and, in recent years, has served as a visiting professor at Harvard University, one of the few Cuban academics to be given that privilege. Boarding our bus, he led us on a two hour tour of Havana. He began by stating the obvious: that "time and neglect is etched into the face of our city." He said that the challenge facing the city was to repair, repaint and rejuvenate, rather than to tear down. But, Dr. Coyula, perhaps one of the elite citizens of Cuba, couldn't mask, in fact barely tried to mask, his disappointment with the revolution he had so strongly supported. He said that Cuba is a country of "educated crooks," and that the government had failed to use its people's skills to create wealth, bluntly stating that: "in order to make a living you have to do something illegal" (which was what he was doing at that very moment). He continued: "we were supposed to create a new man, but it just didn't happen." He used the analogy to the Wizard of Oz, and said that when the Russian support of Cuba ended "and the curtain was pulled back," there was nothing behind it. Further showing his cynicism, he stated: "we have world class ballet dancers and boxers, but if we didn't, the government would declare those pursuits capitalist and decadent."
For our final supper, we went back to the Adath Israel synagogue and bade farewell to the Jews of Cuba. The leader of the congregation thanked us for coming and asked us to convey the message that "We are here; we are Jewish; do not forget us." It was a moving plea, but, I have to admit that, at times during our visits to the synagogues, the cynic in me was moved to wonder a bit about the commitment we witnessed. With an entire nation attempting to "game" the system, do they cling to the synagogue out of religious conviction, or because it gives them an advantage in getting food and medicine? Regardless, each synagogue has a cadre of supporters and we deeply enjoyed the warm Jewish atmosphere they created.
After maariv, Alain took us back to the Malecon for a visit to Havana's most famous hotel, the Nacional. The hotel looks very much like the King David Hotel in Jerusalem and also has large, beautiful grounds which slope down almost to the harbor's edge. It was a very nostalgic visit for me because, 61 years ago, it was where my parents spent their honeymoon. Our group walked to the edge of the property, overlooking the water, feeling the warm tropical breeze, and we all took seats and formed a semicircle around Rabbi Robinson who moderated a spontaneous discussion on the impact our brief trip made on us and on those we visited. He repeated the message that he had conveyed at all three synagogues that Balak had encouraged Bilam to curse the Jews but each time Bilam tried, the curses were turned into words of blessing. If Bilam had succeeded, the Rabbi said, we would have been in danger of being destroyed, but God had other plans, and, whatever the odds, Judaism had survived. That was the thought that kept going through his mind as he encountered the Jews of Cuba: what kind of courage had it taken during the long lonely years never to have given up hope, as Judaism in Cuba was nearly extinguished when Castro came to power and religious life came grinding to a halt. Someone summed up the feelings of the entire group when she commented: "Just by being here we made a difference; like our Bikur Cholim visits, you make an impact just by showing up."
The next morning, we headed to the airport. Batia had warned us of the numerous obstacles that might be placed in our path by the Cuban officials, but the move through security, such as it was, and customs, went quickly and without incident. As we sat in the transit lounge, members of the group started passing around bags of food: pretzels, nuts, dried fruits, candy, and even sandwiches. The rabbi commented: "Now that the trip is over, everybody is showing their hand. Does anyone have a roasted chicken?"
On behalf of all of us, Fred Ehrman called the group together and, amidst much applause, thanked Rabbi Robinson for his "tireless and good-natured leadership." The rabbi demurred, saying: "I came because I had to, you came because you wanted to." Then, in a more serious vein, he talked of how he could tell that each of us had been touched by our encounter with Cuban Jewry." Then, we flew back to freedom.
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Bronna Lipton
non-member comment
future trips?
Will the synagogue be organizing any trips this December?