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OPINION | Every Cuban carries a story of suffering on his back: the story of my family

2021-07-19T17:55:14.808Z


My parents lived through the Cuban revolution firsthand and that made them make the difficult decision to emigrate in 1980, with a cardboard suitcase and a one-way ticket to a country they knew little about, with the dream of having a dignified life and in Liberty. They were able to leave through an agreement between governments that allowed tens of thousands of political prisoners to be taken from Cuba to Venezuela, a wonderful country in those years that received immigrants from all over the world.


My mother Rosita and my grandfather Estanislao in the countryside of Cuba.

Editor's Note:

Elizabeth Pérez is a presenter for Deportes CNN and Triunfadores del Deporte.

Born in Cuba and raised in Venezuela, Pérez has a Bachelor's Degree in Systems Engineering from the Bicentennial University of Aragua and a Master's Degree in Journalism from Florida International University.

The opinions expressed here are solely his.

(CNN Spanish) -

This is part of my family in Cuba.

My grandparents who have already passed away, my parents who emigrated to Venezuela –now they live in Miami– and my brother, who is still on the island.


My parents lived through the Cuban revolution firsthand and that made them make the difficult decision to emigrate in 1980, with a cardboard suitcase and a one-way ticket to a country they knew little about, with the dream of having a dignified life and in Liberty.

They were able to leave through an agreement between governments that allowed tens of thousands of political prisoners to be taken from Cuba to Venezuela, a wonderful country in those years that received immigrants from all over the world.

My dad with my brother Jorge.

I was little and I have no other memories than the few photos of the few years that I lived in Cuba.

Venezuela became my home, my country, my homeland.

There I grew up, studied and lived until I moved to the United States a little over two decades ago.

However, I grew up listening at home to the stories of hunger, misery and repression that my parents told me in Cuba and how we were considered deserters from the homeland for having left.

My father was one of the "lucky" political prisoners who did not know the firing squad.

However, he spent several years in jail for opposing communism and defending democratic ideals.

There he made close friends with whom he later found himself in Miami.

My mother worked since she was 15 years old in supply warehouses in Cuba and with great discretion she tried to stay out of the revolutionary acts that demand the participation of the people in political demonstrations, propaganda and ideological rallies and acts of repudiation against dissidents, for being against of its principles.

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My mom and I in Cuba.

The first years in Venezuela, with much sacrifice, my parents sent boxes of medicines to the family in Cuba - one of the few things that the regime allowed to enter from abroad.

They sent everything from suture floss to dental anesthesia because in Cuba there were not for Cubans.

When my two grandmothers died in the mid-1980s, my parents were unable to travel to the island to say their last goodbye because the Cuban government did not allow it.

I was able to "meet" and share with my brother as a teenager when he was able to travel to Venezuela with an invitation made by us and finally approved by the regime.

He visited Maracay many times, but never stayed because his mother was much older and he took care of her in Cuba.

Besides, he was married and had his family waiting for him.

Estanislao, my maternal grandfather.

I remember in the 90's having seen on television and with a broken heart the second mass exodus of Cubans after Mariel.

Men, women and children risking their lives at sea with the dream of reaching the United States.

Many died in the attempt, others were intercepted at sea and taken to Guantánamo.

Those who finally reached the shores of Florida were left with a heartbreaking testimony of life that highlights the desire to live and to be free that oppressed beings have.

A cousin, a colleague and one of my best friends live in the US after completing the dangerous 90-mile journey on a makeshift raft with wood and car tires.

Engracia, my paternal grandmother.

While it is true that life in exile is hard, it was worth it.

Still, every Cuban carries a story of suffering on his back.

And the worst part is carried by those who are still there.

Since 1959, when Fidel Castro's revolution began - and even before that with Fulgencio Batista - Cuba has suffered the consequences of one tyranny after another.

May the Cuban people's cries for freedom be heard and serve as a catalyst for the liberation of other oppressed nations in the world, like my beloved Venezuela.

Me in cuba

Cuba

Source: cnnespanol

All news articles on 2021-07-19

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