Pedrito
*DISCLAIMER: this blog post is going to be a bit different than my other entries and is strictly the memory of a family member, so if dates are a tad off, that’s why. No I did not fact check my 75 year old cousin, I just wanted to write a piece based off his memory and stories of my family*
In 2016 I went to Cuba for the first time. For those who don’t know, my mother and her family immigrated from Cuba to the United States in 1967. My mom was only 2 years old and my aunt 5. Growing up I was always so proud to be Cuban, without really knowing the sacrifices my family made to give future generations a better life. When I was in Cuba I saw cousins that my family hadn’t seen in over 40 years, and met other family members I had never even heard of. Anywho, during my time there I had the chance to spend time with one of my grandma’s cousins, Pedrito. Pedrito is one of those people that you cannot even being to describe with only words. His soul & overall energy is so positive and the entire world deserves to know Pedrito and his story. Pedrito & his husband Juani immigrated to Spain, so I was able to spend a few days with them in Valencia and to say it filled my cup is an understatement.
Now back to Pedrito’s story. Every Cuban family has a story about the Revolution, and how their family managed. However, I’m pretty sure I’d need to write a book to capture all of the details of Pedrito’s story, along with my family’s, but I’ll start with a quick summary of the trials & tribulations he has faced in his life and where he is now, however want to preface that this is not entirely doing his story and past justice.
Pedrito was born in 1948 on our family farm in En Cantel, Cuba, the Cuban countryside, near Varadero. My grandma and her siblings lived on the farm with Pedrito & his sisters, along with other cousins. There were around 5 houses on the farm and each family focused on a different area of agriculture for their work. For example, one uncle had a mango orchard & vegetable plots, my grandma’s family raised cows for beef & milking, and Pedrito’s family were bee keepers. Of course there was more than this, but trying to give you an idea of how big the farm was. Pedrito’s family exported their honey and pollen all over the world, and my family’s milk and beef fed almost half of the island. The kids on the farm, including Pedrito & my abuelita, went to private school and lived a comfortable life. There are a bunch of stories I could tell you about monkeys they had, mischief they got into, but for the sake of this blog post I want to provide the overall story of Pedrito’s life during the Cuban Revolution, and post revolution.
The Cuban Revolution began in January 1959. The Cuban people were desperate for a change because of how poorly the island’s politics and bureaucracy was managed by Bautista. In this moment, the Cuban economy was still somewhat strong and very important for the rest of the world in terms of exporting produce. However, it was still very much a third world country, where innocent people were being killed every day by the very corrupt government and most lived in poverty. When Fidel appeared with his regime, a strong presence and will for a change, most people looked to him as the only way to “save” Cuba. Most people don’t realize, or maybe choose to forget, that, Fidel had tried to overturn Cuba’s government in the past, and served jailtime in return for his radical beliefs and cruelty. CRAZY. However, the society’s thoughts & beliefs changed after suffering so many years under Bautista. According to Pedrito’s memory, things were getting worse in Cuba and Fidel was helping people financially and giving them security against Bautista, which, in the end, was just a manipulative tactic to overturn the government.
By 1961, Cuba really started to change. For the lower class, for the better, winning Fidel popularity, but for business and land owners, for the worse. In 1961, the Revolution closed all private schools, including where Pedrito & my abuela went. Everyone was required to attend public school where they intentionally taught pro revolution beliefs and started shaping the future Cuban society to obliged with their radical beliefs. At this point, my family realized they needed to start investing their cash because there were rumblings that Fidel was going to remove the Cuban currency that they were using and start “fresh” for everyone. My family started buying homes and cars in Varadero to hold the value of their hard-earned money, as there was so much uncertainty. Sure enough, Fidel’s regime changed the currency, and everyone was approved to exchange 200 Cuban Pesos to the new currency. And anything else you had in the “old” currency was no longer valid. For people who did not have the 200 pesos to exchange, they exchanged what they had, and, in return, received 200 Cuban Pesos. Making all Cuban people financially equal.
Between 1961–1962 the government started confiscating homes and properties from people. Imagine being at home and one day someone just arrives to take away everything you own and have worked for. Doesn’t seem possible. Then left with nothing. In my family’s case, they were “blessed” with the opportunity to work on the same farm they owned for years, but for the government. The story of how the farm was taken is something that brought me to tears. Days before the farm was taken, people had heard that the government was coming Varadero to “redistribute” properties. My great grandfather arrived to our family farm in his Jeep to check the status of the workers and animals to see if anyone had stopped by or if they had seen anything. Unfortunately, Abuela Moreno (his nickname was Moreno ), arrived the day the government came to confiscate everything. That day he arrived in his Jeep a business owner, and left with nothing, on foot. They took everything.
My grandma was 21 when they took the farm, and recently married. She began a family and was navigating motherhood during an extremely fickle period in Cuba. And as all mother’s do, my grandmother was forced to sacrifice her once comfortable life in Cuba to a new life as an immigrant in the USA. Shortly after my mother was born, my grandma, my aunt, and mom fled Cuba, however, like many Cuban families, my grandfather had to stay in Cuba. At this time in Cuba, you could “earn” your way out of the country by giving all your properties and belongings to the government and working 2 years for the Revolution. So, as all father’s do, my grandfather sacrificed for the family. He gave everything he owned to the Revolution, lived in camps, and worked for the Revolution for two years. * I can write another post about mis abuelos’ story, because it’s a beautiful disaster, but I want to keep talking about Pedrito* Although most family’s were leaving Cuba and not looking back, Pedrito’s family decided to stay, despite the conditions getting worse. At some point, his parents attempted to leave, but the Cuban borders were closed and resulted in staying for many years to come. Some people sent their kids to the USA, with Operation Peter Pan, to start a new life, and the parents stayed. There was a moment Pedrito’s parents signed up for operation peter pan, but in the end, his mom didn’t want to separate the family and feared they would never see each other again, which happened to many Cubans.
Alright- SO this is as far as Pedrito & I got before their sweet neighbors came over for dinner, SO, going to fast forward to today, and someday soon I will finish my interview with Pedrito about his adulthood in Cuba before immigrating.
Pedrito and his husband escaped Cuba in 2016. In their 60s they came to a new country, with no family, to start a better life. Now they live in Piccassent, near Valencia, but just because they escaped communism doesn’t mean all is well. They have struggled to find stable work in their 60s, and have been cleaning homes and taking care of elderly people. (side note, I didn’t get to this part of his life, but Pedrito has multiple degrees and was the director of the cultural organization of Havana. He worked with diplomats from other countries and Havana Elite.) However, him and his husband both express gratitude for the generosity they have encountered through their immigration process. From people offering their homes and a warm meal, to every single piece of furniture in their home being gifted. With the holidays quickly approaching, I feel more grateful than ever that my family was able to immigrate to the United States and provide a better life for the generations to come.
