My Cuba - Day 1 Sunday

Part I - Sunday
(Sunday- La Casa in Biltmore,Havana)
Miami Airport
CNN reporter (Patrick)
flight to Cuba
Jose Marti Airport
Manny makes it through security
Celia and Javier and caros
Havana (a city frozen in time)
Celia's casa and suitcase of hope
mi casa de familia Biltmore
Villanueva
Havana viega
First meal con Celia (ropa veija y arroz) Malecone con hijos Cuba Libra, Mojitos, cevesta and las chickas muy bonito y triste dogs at night and rooster in the morning

The Preparations

So we load up our bags at Steve Kitchens house in Ft Lauderdale...8 bags, 4 with our stuff and 4 with medicines for the people of Havana and the sugar mill and some priest.

Susan (Mel's wife in Boston) has put together a bag of clothes for the people of El Dolores who touched her heart on three visits to the island. Kathy (Manny's ARNP wife in Tampa) put together a bag of free samples and some glucose monitors...this bag also included 2 Game Boys and a graphing calculator for the 11 year old boy. Bradley (Steve's wife in Ft Lauderdale) gave us 4 big bags of traveling goodies like bug spray, lotions, medicine for the stomach, flash lights, etc. which we donated to the lady of the house on the last day. And Big Fred (in Miami, under the directions of Tia Lala) put together a medicine bag for the people of the Sugar Mill Dolores and a priest friend from El Nela....It also had a thumb hard drive for the man of the house, a long shower hose and the now famous LT (leotard) for the boy who has been told by the government that he must attend a dancing school (7 am to 6 pm every day and tutoring on Sat's).

Aside: Leotard stuff

We packed up the car and to Miami we went...first a quick stop for 4 instamatic cameras, 20 boxes of protein bars, and the most important thing on a Manny Suarez-Gaston trip...playing cards.

The excitement builds as we arrive at Miami Airport...and Steve knew to go to the Flamigo parking lot.

We were all laughing because the airplane tickets were a little shaky at best...they said ABC Charting on the outside and SkyKing plane on the inside...but the Tours lady said you never know what the plane will say...(I won a Cuba Libre from the CNN guy...because it was a Hooter's plane that we flew.)

The planning of the trip started in 1961 when my family, Suarez-Gaston-Carreno, had to leave our homeland after the fiasco called the Bay of Pigs. Dad escaped on a meat packing boat and Mom and the 6 youngest got out on a ferry to Miami. The older 8 got out in various ways (yes, there were 16 of us total). After seeing many movies like Dr. Zhivago and Gone With the Wind....I knew we would have to return to our Roots someday.

Ten years ago the 14 brothers and sisters slowly took trips one by one for various reasons....now only 4 remain...(2 because they want to wait until Fidel dies and the other 2 because of health issues). My generation of the youngest 6 who came over in a ferry have all returned.

Tia Lala has led the way with 10 visits...Including many with nephews and nieces and cousins...Tia Mane has also led tours through the church about 10 times to the City of Havana...La Gringa Susan (Mel's wife) had gone three times in support of her husband and the people of Cuba...one time taking 10 suit cases of medicine and a motorcycle tire.

All have come back with a heavy heart and tears in their eyes...all vow to help the people of Cuba in their own way (I hope to convince 5 Cuban friends of mine to visit with their kids...my doctor and a board member among those).

So it really started during the last Gaston family reunion...when I bought and passed out 200 cup holders that said "Free Cuba or Bust"...with all the emotions of the video of Mel from various visits and the emotions of the reunion, I knew it was time to make plans...and both of my sons now in their 20's and the oldest about to get married and move to California...

So in Aug 2010 we started planning...first it was Summer of 2011 (nope we have a wedding in California), then Spring Break of 2011 (nope, our spring breaks do not match up), so we settle on Christmas 2010 to celebrate Jesus's birth and this would be a Christmas present to Pops (that is me) and the people of Cuba...Dec 19,20,21,22...We were under orders from the esposas to be back by Dec 23 for other family plans.

The company Tia Lala suggested was called Zeniada Tours in Miami....Lala had used them about 5 or 6 times and they were very good....and lately the old lady had a granddaughter who spoke perfect English working there...

i emailed Z Tours in Sept and started the ball rolling...We would need a special paper for me (the Cuban government would not accept my US citizenship and it would cost $220 and it must be filed a month before you leave and it is only good for one visit of one week. Steve, the American friend, would have to pay $250 for some Humanitarian papers and also done a month before we leave...only good for one visit...the boys only had to pay $75 each for Visas.

The GREAT news was that because of Obama we no longer had to fly to Mexico or Bahamas first....a waste of money and especially time...now the trip takes 30 minutes from Miami to Havana...about 120 miles...this was a BIG selling point for me. But we would not have the airplane tickets nor know the size of the plane until the week before we leave (I did NOT like this...this must change...this process needs to be Americanized...no one travels like that anymore...It is insane and NOT good for the nerves). But they said to wait until October or November to start preparing all the information (those 60 days took forever).

Meanwhile Steve Kitchens, my good friend of 30 years and godfather to my son Austin, said he wanted to go!!! He has done a lot of missionary trips for his church including Honduras, Costa Rica and even Haiti....plus he was a world traveler to China, Greece and the Holy Land...he was our ace in the hole and my son Austin would not go without Uncle Stevie.

Finally, November arrived and I was to send my papers to Miami Tour Co...
1. A letter stating that I arrived in the US before 1970 (different rules for those before and after 1970)
2. A copy of the passports of me and my sons
3. A lot of information about me and my family in Cuba...Including where I was staying and where we had lived
4. 2 passport pictures for my special papers
The envelope never arrived at the Tour Co....a week wasted and pictures lost...

Next was a check for $220 for my special papers...that envelope was also lost and never arrived at the Tour Co.

For the first time in 50 years of me mailing all kinds of sheet over all those years....Including cash, I have never had ONE letter ever not delivered!!! Unbelievable...worse yet the Tour Co. did not seem to want to go to the Post Office down there and kick some heads in...I asked Xavier to see what the heck, but he was too busy with some important things...and Big Fred would have taken no prisoners....Eloise was my last hope if worse came to worse.

Then I started to mail things to the lady's personal address...and deposit checks in Tampa in their account (all very shaky especially when it came to the BIG check for the airline tickets, about $600 each after taxes and commission, Christmas travel and such).

The happiest day was when Steve Kitchen called me the week of the day we travel to tell me he had the 4 tickets and all the papers in hand...

So I started calling the Post Offices...first it had to be done via the website...I complained and asked for action...no response!! I then got a product service email...and said the US Postal Service had done absolutely NOTHING, not even a hello we are looking...a couple of days later another complaint letter to the US postal office...NOTHING. Meanwhile I sent a 3rd letter for fun and a 4th a week later....0 for 4...each time I checked and double checked the addresses with the website, the tour company, the white pages, my secretary who’s worth her weight in gold...no luck.

So my secretary finally located the local phone number of the postal office in Miami...I actually got a voice on the other end and she explained that the carrier was an old man who would not deliver if he could not find the office or could not read the address....cono!!!...I asked her if she needed me to come down there and FIRE the old man??

Four weeks after I mailed those papers and those checks...I got back the envelope "Return to Sender"....they have not heard the end of this story...I know people who know people that have weapons....lol. I am going to return someone to heaven.

All this does not add to my confidence in this Tour Co...there is also an article on the web about them closing down etc.
But they did seem to have a legit banking account and at least I could follow the money...but I was worried the week before the BIGGEST trip of my life, there would not be any tickets and no trip to Cuba. (By the way I forgot to mention we all needed US passports and that can take up to a year to get these days).

I knew from the very beginning that I only wanted to carry 8 bags 2 for each...I had already done the trip to Hawaii with 4 people and 12 bags (3 for each) and not wanting to pay a bell boy....and more recently a 2 week trip to Denver and 7 bags and no boys to help.... So I knew our esposa would have "something" for us to carry....I knew Mel's wife would have a bag for Brandon (and try not to tell me)...I also knew my German wife the ARNP would have a bag..(she had heard too many stories from Tia Lala) and Steve's wife who usually goes on these missionary trips with Steve would have something...and Tia Lala was flying overhead...

So I said NO, NO, NO to the request to take suitcases of medicine to Cuba....and then I said NO to the next 10 emails from Tia Lala....who has what we have come to call the "Mother Teresa Syndrome" (MTS)...not the good one, but the bad one..."(MTS) if they say NO, just ask again in a different way and keep on asking until they say YES."

So the week before the trip I start getting requests to take stuff to people...and I say sorry but no...my plate is full.

We have 4 people travelling to Cuba who do not know Spanish...2 are my sons; one who is very nervous about the whole trip....and an American friend who is sacrificing his Christmas vacation to help me and my sons visit the homeland. We are going to a country where I can be put in jail at any time and they do NOT have juries in Cuba...where I am considered a traitor by the people, where my father and sisters were sent to jail...and I just saw the movie Oscar's Cuba where they show people being SHOT!!! for no good reason. We are going to a country with a travel agency that might or might not exist...we are staying with people illegally... (not a nice hotel)...we are told to lie to the security people about where we are going to stay...and lie about the stuff we are carrying and lie about why we are there...In a county that when you lie you go to jail or you are shot!!

My German wife has told me "do not come home if you do not have my babies with you"....these babies are 6'5" and 6'6" (20 and 24 years of age), are stronger than me and have travelled to more countries than I have...their passports are full of stamps...mine has NONE. My Boss says he will not bail me out of jail...and my best co-worker friend says he wants my office and parking space if I do not return....The computer guy says, my boss says, I must give him all my passwords for my grade book and company records...The school Chaplin gives me a special blessing.

So Tia Lala cannot get her medicine to Cuba through me....so she calls Big Fred (BF) in Miami...and BF goes crazy driving all over South Florida picking up free medicine from doctor friends of Tia Lala....I am sure much of this stuff is illegal in most countries around the world...

BUT DO NOT TELL MANNY because he said NO!! to the medicine bag from Tia Lala.

If my wife says take an extra medicine bag, I have to say yes....If la gringa de Boston tells Brandon to take a medicine bag, he has to say yes...and if Steve's sweet wife who cooks so well and treats my boys like her children says we have to take a medicine bag...we say yes with pleasure and thanks for all those Christmas gifts you gave us last night.

So here comes the first email from Fred...."Lala has me running all over Miami looking for medicine and will you please take......this and that for me...and this and that for someone else...and what color do you want the bag to be...and here is a list of things I think are important...and… and…and..."

What part of NO did Tia Lala not understand...I then call our Savior, Xavier...please Xavier help....I am on overload with these bags of medicine...while giving exams at work and grading...etc...making my first semester report on 80 students before my trip to Cuba...making sure the computer guy has my passwords or is that passports...organizing an engagement party for my son with 100 people from Tampa that cannot fly out to California for a wedding....while doing the million other things we do...like getting direction to LA Finca, El Dolores and other places we want to visit in Cuba.

to make a long story short...It gets worse...Xavier negotiates a peace treaty between Tia Lala, Fred and me...apparently something he has to do at every Gaston Reunion in Miami, family weddings or trips to Cuba...

All is settled. I agree to take ONE little bag (I do not give a sheet what color) as long as there is no illegal drugs inside the bag. Please drop off the bag at Steve's in Ft Lauderdale and we will get Austin to carry that extra bag...now Austin is scared (he wants his mother the ARNP to check every drug that is in that bag...thank goodness I waited until AFTER the trip to show them Oscars Cuba...I learned that valuable lesson the hard way when saw JAWS before going to Coco Beach!!)

Then comes the crème de la crème...Fred emails CR in Cuba and she wants a Tutu for her boy who is in dance school...I mean a LT (thanks cuz)....and this item cost $150....(I had already researched this and was NOT going to do it...Game Boys yes, graphing calculator yes, but NO TUTU for a boy who should be playing baseball or basketball like all the Suarez-Gastons....sorry for all the politically correct people on the email...but at 6'6" I am not normal either...It happens and it is only between you and your God...just leave me out of it...I got enough of my own problems and faults...the gates of heaven close more and more every year...although I have several Baptist friends/pastors who are keeping a foot in the doorway for me.)

NO TUTU or LT (thanks cuz) and that is FINAL!mail the damn thing...Xavier will pay for the stamps.

Meanwhile I get requests from my 8 older sisters...please take this to this person...we will FedEX it over night!!
(Not too sure why you cannot FedEx it to Cuba....and what is inside these envelopes - illegal papers??) and then another. Then the cousins start chiming in...we will send you a check...please take cash to so and so and so and so...make sure the RIGHT person gets the right amount...SAY WHAT??...I am not one to know the cousins...that is Charlie's job and poor Mel with his bad memory and websites...etc)

But I always ask myself what you Eloise Gaston Suarez do? My angel....my mom in heaven...what would Jesus do? (WWJD) What would Big Fred do? (WWBFD).

Then the conspiracy begins...what are Tia Lala and Fred going to do if Manny will NOT take the tutu to the little boy in Cuba who is starving and has nothing... (By the way this kid never even played with the two Game Boys I brought him...because he and his buddies are too busy on a computer nicer than mine playing a 1,000 computer video games with a joy stick.)

So Tia Lala and Fred call MEL!!! in Boston... I am picking up my son from college in Orlando when I get the phone call from Mel in Boston...cono, Mel never calls me, I am the email KING!!...It must be important...maybe Brandon is sick or had a motorcycle accident. Mel starts with the normal sports chit-chat....and then I hear...."can you please....." At this point all they want me to take is the medicine...I said sure...I had already planned on Austin taking medicine bag number 4...But then on Sat morning while already in Ft Lauderdale with Steve, the day BEFORE we leave…..Steve gets a call from Brandon!!! what, is he sick, did he have a motorcycle accident...what is up?...Oh nothing...just airplane information...no big deal. (Even my wife got caught in this wave of lies and scheming....because Mel the watcher of all the Suarez-Gaston birthdates and database expert does NOT have Steve Kitchens phone number and Brandon is already in the air or something and cannot be reached...who knows what?? The commission is still investigating...the 1,000 page report will be posted online in a year.)

So I am sitting there in Steve's office while Steve and Austin pump some weights and drink their protein smoothies...Bradley is at church...and I am home alone, when Bradley comes home from church and says there is a package on the porch and it says for Brandon Suarez!!! Damn Big Fred dropped off the package and RAN!!! He better run..... Yep, there is the LT inside...I guess Xavier is not mailing it...A few hours later, Xavier shows up and says...hey, Manny, help unload some stuff for Cuba out of my trunk...cono!! He was just kidding.


Miami Airport

We were told to arrive at the Airport at 11 am for a 3 pm flight (Austin said we could leave Ft Lauderdale at 11 am). So we arrived at about 12 noon with 8 bags...2 bags per person....as we walked, 6'5", 6'6",6'6" and 6'7", heads would turn...plus Brandon had grown a beard and trimmed it to look like Che (the Cuban butcher) and with those sun glasses on looked KGB or FBI or CIA or NBA....

When we found G concourse, we ran into Patrick from CNN...he told us that we could check in at one counter and then check our bags at another....Typical Miami, there was no one there to explain this simple system....This was it - Steve collected all our tickets and passports...and we stayed with bags...and the 4 sandwiches Bradley had made us and a bag of oranges that Austin had snagged out of the frig....(I highly recommend those rolling carts for $4....moving 8 bags in a line is for the birds....Austin disappeared to exchange American Dollars for Euros...and Brandon went to the bathroom or make last minute phone calls...(his honey and in-laws were flying into Tampa from California on Dec 24, the day we return from Cuba, plus he was the host for the Alumni party back at Berkeley on the 23rd...let’s just say he had a lot on his mind.) So there I was pushing 8 bags while the guy from CNN filmed the horde of Cubans excited about going back to Cuba for Christmas (I was wondering if they had all had such a hard time getting those "golden tickets".)

Everyone returned to me as we finally got to the head of the line....Steve passed out the tickets and the passports and then as soon as we got them...another man with no uniform and no English wants us all to hand over these passports and tickets to HIM!!! And he walks over and hands them to the ticket counter lady...meanwhile he is weighing our bags and putting tickets on them....”Wait wait wait! Those we are carrying on board.” “Sorry me speak a no English” AND WE WERE IN MIAMI!!!!

Hey Miami Airport - DO NOT HIRE ANYONE WHO DOES NOT SPEAK "a no English"...I do not care if you have to shut down the airport...If you speak a no English, do NOT have a job that requires you to communicate with passengers from around the world where English is usually understood....

Anyway, after a little chaos with which bags were going to be checked in and which were not (and the usual 10 min discussion with the college son that has lost a little respect for the old man)....we get everything checked in. Oops, I forgot...all other passengers are wrapping their bags with this green plastic wrapping paper for $15 a bag...
wrap or no wrap..."wax on, wax off" (Karate Kid)...."tug or no tug" (Seinfeld)....we went with No wrap. Ain't no one going to mess with our luggage....and anyway those 4 bags checked in only have medicine for the people of Cuba...and a shower hose and a LT and thumb hard drive and 20 boxes of protein bars.

We reward ourselves by having our sandwiches....and oranges...we look like REFUGEES and we are still in MIAMI.

Thank God we had Steve...he was a cool as the other side of the pillow....I was a nervous wreck trying to keep track of passports and tickets and the CNN guy talking to me...I have no idea what I said to him....will be getting a DVD when he returns.

So we have our little last supper lunch at the airport...sandwiches and oranges (the big last supper we had at Ft Lauderdale beach at a place called Casa Blanca on the strip)....actually we also had a big last breakfast thanks to Bradley (Steve's wife...did I tell you all how sweet she is and how well she cooks....she even cooks different things for different people...Steve and Austin wanted BLT's...Brandon and I wanted Turkey and Ham).

So we head towards the security check point...piece of cake...actually the friendliest they have ever been to me...no body search, no bomb material search...I am an easy profile target because of my passport and beard and I look like a terrorist...plus I usually say something stupid like..."take our shoes off, only says the terrorist have WON!!”...or "the only thing to fear is fear itself"....my blood pressure goes up every time I take off my shoes....hell, 50,000 people die on the roads every day...If you are afraid of dying, DON'T DRIVE!! and let the rest of us fly in peace. Anyway, with Steve Kitchens leading the way...we get the royal treatment...all he has to do is smile, the ladies melt...plus they all want to know about my sons and if they are married.... We finally get into the gate area...and catch our breath...our little last sanctuary of American life...Starbucks and TV with NFL on...damn shame.

My son with the sweetheart notices I am nervous and asks if I want to play some "honeymoon" spades. Steve and Brandon are getting their last emails in before the 4 day blackout. The time is flying by now...I say goodbye to my wife on the phone.

As we are boarding the plane, the CNN guy catches me at a weak moment and asks for an interview...we pull over behind some wall...and I spill my beans about going back to Cuba, about my sons, about my father and sisters being in jail...and then I lose it...rip off the mike and walk away....the line is gone....everyone has boarded the plane...here we go.

Everyone on the plane is excited...even the people serving us... There are two rich families in the front...with kids...they take up about 6 rows with one or two per row...they wear a lot of jewelry and I can tell these kids have no idea about the real world...they are heading straight to Varadero...do not even stop in Havana... Then there is us, the 4 Americans (if I can convince them)...and guess who has the seat RIGHT NEXT OT MINE?? The CNN guy...no way, no how that happened by accident...someone got paid off. They give us 5 Americans the next 6 rows to stretch out and everyone gets a window or an aisle... Then the rest of the 100 passengers are all stuffed into the back rows...with 4 rows separating us from them...go figure.

As we take off, the CNN guy is filming Austin and Brandon looking out the window. When I stand up, some man from the back comes forward and says YOU must be related to Xavier Suarez (I get that a lot in Miami and in Tampa too)...he is Rita's cousin...we then start looking at the map of Cuba and he says he is travelling to Matanzas...the CNN guy is filming us. Then we see it CUBA!!! Wow...so beautiful. Brandon asks "how can the people of Cuba be starving if they have so much fertile land?” Good question!! No way, no how they cannot grow food...look at all those farms (BTW you can see Key West and Cuba from the air at the same time.)

Austin asked "how come the Cubans can't just take a raft or boat across and escape? Another good question...because of the Gulf Stream that pushes boats and rafts to the Atlantic Ocean. Then I say....but look at all that land...there is no reason they cannot grow enough food... The answer is simple - the system just does NOT work...communism does not work...and of course all the food goes to Castro, the military, the government officials and the tourist....although I did NOT see any skinny Cubans...

Then we landed and everyone clapped...we passed the Main Jose Marti Airport terminal and went into a small building set aside for planes coming from the USA.... The CNN guy said “Follow me”...and we did...once inside the building, the Americans went to the most right booth. The next booth to the left said VIP...on the other side there was one for children travelling alone...and then the rest.

We followed the CNN guy...from here on everything moves real slow...It is like time has slowed down...A lady approaches us and asked, “Are you American citizens?” and we say yes...good...Why are we visiting?...Tourist...Where are we staying?...The Beach Passport please...Passport please (you must have your passport with you at all times.)

The CNN guy goes first and I watch him...he is cool and has done this about 10 times traveling to Cuba often...Good, he is through. While we are waiting, we watch the guy with the 4 TV screens...one is a heat camera, another is almost like an x-ray, not too sure what the other two were doing, but they all had different colors....there was a TV on in the corner...Raul giving a political speech. OK, my turn...do not be nervous...the lady does NOT smile and says nothing...she finally put her hand out...I guess she wants passport and airplane ticket...she looks at me mad and throws the airplane ticket back...(I guess she is having a bad day).

She says “Where were you born?” in Spanish...I say sorry I know a little Spanish...she says again in Spanish a little slower...you are Cuban...I said no, American...she says NO, passport says you born in Cuba...and I said yes. Then her little camera takes my picture...no good...down please...what?... down please and motions with her hand...OK, I am too tall for her equipment...then she looks at the passport and then at me...and then at the computer screen...she does this 3 times in a row...(it seems that computer does NOT like my beard...dam I should have shaved it off.) After what it seemed like 30 minutes and it was more like 5 minutes, she waves me on like she is MAD that I passed whatever tests she was giving me....through the locked doors I go...what is next...hopefully friendlier people.

The metal detector...I take off my shoes and belt...and put my binder in the bucket for the x-ray machine...I go through...good, no beep beep...the man passes the wand over my body...beep beep on my chest...dam I forgot to take off my glasses on my neck....then beep beep on my penis...dam it still is working...no, no...It is the zipper of the jeans.
Thank goodness they do not see the $2,000 around my waist....

The security guy asks me about the binder. What is in it? What do the papers say? Why do I have copies of passports? They really do not like the colored passport of Austin. Who is this? Where is he? They asked me several times if I was coming to work. I thought he said WAR...No, no, no work...Why are you here? Where are you staying? How long are you staying? There are three different men questioning me....ok, ok, ok...with no smile...they seem irritated they found nothing. I moved to the next line...put on my shoes and belt.

There are two people in uniform on the right and one guy in a white shirt, no uniform on the left...he asks, “Americano?”...and directs me to the right...(Later I saw many people give him money to pass....not too sure why.) They asked me the same 3 questions. Why are you here? Where are you going? How long are you staying?

Whew - I am in!!! That was easy!

Then I had to wait for Austin and then Brandon....It seemed like we waited the longest for Steve...There were mirror walls and we could see security guys behind the mirrors looking at us. Meanwhile, a dog is smelling Austin's carryon...I told Austin to move over to me and put the bag on a table...the dog got disinterested....then the 4 of us just stood there until a young man named SUAREZ in a uniform asked us for our passports and the same three questions...he also took down our passport numbers....he was a very nice man who knew a little English. Then our bags came....everybody else’s bags had that green plastic paper....we were the only ones without it...would there be any medicine left in the bag??

We gather our things...and had to pass another check point...same three questions...the lady said "you three can go, but YOU come with me"....DAMN...I gave Austin my bag of medicine and they left the terminal. i was told to get a cart with wheels....I figure this was for the purpose of weighing...and then they gave me piece of paper to fill out...the same paper our buddy Suarez had filled out...I said I already did this....do it again!! It was in Spanish and I did not have a pen...I asked for a pen but no one knew English...some nice man from Miami gave me his pen...then I tried to fill out the paper....but could not read the Spanish...no one would help....(I almost felt like they were laughing at me for being Cuban and not knowing Spanish)....I finally went to the supervisor sitting down and she got me an English version of the paper....I left half the questions blank...cut into the line by the weights now about 10 people deep with many bags...the guy let me cut...they insert my paper of questions into the computer...scan my passport and I was out!!!

saw the money window...got 500 CUC...and one final check point by the door...

as I walked out the people clapped...and I raised my hands and screamed something back. The first thing I saw was my big American friend Steve’s smile...I had to pass a few more people in military clothes. And then I saw Celia and started to cry as she gave me a BIG hug...

our driver Javier stuffed the medicine bags into his car (a subcompact....we had ordered a van....all vans were being used for the big Christmas service at the Havana cathedral)...so I went with Celia and Frank in a little old green car....

off we went...after 50 years I was in CUBA...my homeland

La Casa in Biltmore

so we drove from the airport to Celia's house...I drove with C&F while the boys drove with MrT (Transporter)

poor MrT he had to go so slow for C&F to keep up...the first thing we saw was a couple of vacas on the side of the road very skinny...very skinny indeed...but great lawn mowers...(we ended up seeing this all over the island...cows, horses and goat mowing the grass along the highway)....Brandon also pointed out how clean the side of the roads looked...obviously to impress the tourist...

i had seen the wrong airport on Google earth...the one a few blocks from our house was a small military airport...Jose Marti was 30 minutes south of Havana...

we drove to CnF house and it was nice...3 bedrooms with nice family room and dining room and laundry room...with 3 bathrooms...and a nice porch for drying clothes...I would call this a HIGH middle class house in Havana...

in addition CnF great aunt had left a bunch of priceless furniture from the 1800's....and I got the impression things were for sail...Austin fell in love with a fan 1800's framed in his room...she wanted 1,000 and Austin offered 600...she said ok...he did not have it..

we unloaded the 8 suitcases and open up the big one for CnF from Kathy...the little boy was not impressed with the 2 Game boys...they were put aside (like I said earlier...they have two computers with plenty of fancy color software games)...the graphing calculator caught the eye of the dad who is himself a graphic designer....I gave him a quick 10 min less...he especially liked the Polar graphs...I wish I had brought a manual...we just access that on the internet..but he cannot get internet...oh well he has plenty of time to play with it...I did....lol

finally the question about the LT came up...and Brandon went and got it...the boys eyes lit up and everyone was excited (it was worth the effort, as the boy put it on immediately)

we also gave them the hose and the thumb hard drive...like Lala said it was an early Christmas...

i forgot the wonderful feast that CnF gave us that first night...late at 10 pm...It was ropa veija, arroz, black beans, yucca, and guave paste and cheese for desert...we ate like Kings...

then we were off with Javier to see La Casa in Biltmore and Villanueva
so we pile into this little subcompact car...the 6'7"americano in the front seat with his knees in his chest

poor 6'5" Brandon in the middle of the back seat leaning forward with two 6'6" guys on each side...one arm and one shoulder lean outside the car...and MrT driving...we figure about 1,000 pounds of macho flesh inside

off we went down the Malecon...all the pictures I have seen...all the movies showing this famous seaside road

i was trying to follow the route we took.....5th Avenue south...and then I saw it...the Villanueva chapel...just like it looked on Google earth...where you can click on these little white squares and see a front view and a side view...sure enough the head of the statue up front had its head cut off...so sad

the church was gutted out...like a bomb had hit is...and it smelled of urine...like one of my sons said, "why doesn't the alums or that university not fix up the church?? why doesn't the catholic church of Cuba fix it up?"...same reason no money and who would attend...

we drove pass the baseball field and then the track field next to my house...the Suarez-Gaston house that had 5 bedrooms and maid quarters about the garage...It is now being used by 3 families..or 5?? I heard different numbers...we were able to talk to one family, but they did NOT know about the Suarez-Gaston family...I offered her $20, but she would not take it...so I walked down a little..It was DARK by this time and no street lights so hard to see anything...plus there was a street fair nearby so there were hundreds of people walking the street...no one messed with the 4 big guys

the second family I talked to...said one of their relatives just made it to the USA...and they did take the $20 Christmas present

as we drove away...I had tears in my eye...such a beautiful house...now in ruins...we would never return, but hopefully someday give a little money to at least get it painted...again Dr. Zhivago came to mind

so now we decided to go to Haven Vieja...Javier dropped us off at the old fort and parked the car...he walked us around the many historical sites trying his best to give us the names of the places...the streets were empty and the restaurants empty (maybe typically for a Sunday night)...

and finally back to CnF for sleep...the boys and I decided to walk down to the water and maybe find an open club...the one we saw earlier was empty...about 10 pm...we were approached by chickas...no thanks...they call us gay

we ended up at the bar near our apartment and bought a few rounds...and chit chatted the night away...talk between a father and 2 sons in their 20's...talk of wedding in the summer for the older son...and moving to Gainesville for the younger son

back to bed and trying to go to sleep with the sound of the city and dogs parking...and the 1800 clock chiming on the hour every hour....
i want to publically thank the Gaston family for this house...apparently abuelito was kind of enough to help my dad Manuel Suarez-Carreno buy it...

excuse my memory I was only 5 years old, so all my memories are from what I have heard over the years....with many conflicting reports...

in my family sometimes we cannot remember or agree whether Mel had a twin at birth that died....or that my mom had a bad miscarriage with her 15th child while Dad was in jail...and so on and so on....

so many movies, so many dreams, so many stories, so many beers, so many books read, "it is pretty messy up there"

anyways the way it was told to me and as I remember (either one or both could have many holes in it), when Dad and Mom first got married Dad worked at the sugar mill...I have heard Dolores first where Lourdes, George and a few other older ones were born...then they went to El Nela where the next 3 or 4 were born

at this stage Mom said she could not take the country living anymore with so many kids...and these kids needed proper education in Havana...so Dad took a job at Villanueva...and the Gaston family helped with the payments for a house across the street at Biltmore...where most of the bottom 6 were born except Xavier (who according to my Mom is "special"...from the movie Forrest Gump and a little darker than the rest of us...we got that from the Moors who invaded Spain around 1000 AD...myself and my children got the height and hamstring from those strong fighter from Africa)

in my first book Two Second to Go, I retell the story of me and my sister jumping the fence at Villanueva to buy a coke from one of those fancy NEW machines that sells bottle 6oz cokes for a 5cents...we ran into militia with guns and we ran home...where we found my sisters flushing anti-revolution propaganda down the toilet...and other things being buried in the back yard...

shortly thereafter the militia men came to our front door and arrested my Dad and 3 or 4 older sisters...leaving Xavier and the bottom 6 with a very pregnant mom...and 3 soldiers to guard the house

the way I remember this 50 years later and at 5 am before having my coffee is that Lourdes was away at a convent, George at a seminary (Teresa jailed and never recovered mentally) (Lala jailed) Margarita was away at a convent, (Eloise jailed at 15 or 16 years of age) Manela was in the states recovery from a gunshot womb that had her lose her ovaries, Rosi was away somewhere in America and Xavier the bottom 6 X, Charlie, Mel, Maria, Manny (me...lucky 13) and Big Fred only 3 or4 years old at the time....Xavier was our leader and still is our leader today...Charlie was the brains of the operation, Mel the fun older brother (partner in crime), Maria the babysitter and cook, and Big Fred was just Big Fred following me everywhere I went

I recommend you read Waiting to Snow in Havana if you want to see a small glimpse of what life in Cuba was like during this days for a little boy from a well to do family....of course I was a little different since I had 14 brothers and sisters

and somos la familia Suarez-Gaston...and everywhere we go people want to know..(a little song here)