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Mirta OjitoA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
On May 7, 1980, Ojito, an 11th-grade student, was interrupted by the police while eating breakfast in her home in Havana, Cuba. The officers explained that there was a boat waiting at the port of Mariel and asked the family if they were ready and willing to “abandon” their country. Quietly, their mother said yes. Ojito had always known that her family would eventually leave Cuba. Fidel Castro’s rise to power and bait-and-switch transition from the democratic government that he’d promised to a socialist state had robbed her father of his career, and although her parents were not particularly political, they were not supporters of the Castro regime. The Cuban Missile Crisis prevented their first planned exodus, and the family was not allowed to leave during the Castro-sanctioned freedom flights, which began in 1965, because her father had not yet completed his military service.
Jimmy Carter’s presidency altered relations between the United States and Cuba: Carter was seen as a pro-human rights leader whom Castro could potentially trust. Castro began to allow exiles to return to Cuba, and a period of increased movement between the two countries began. More Cubans than ever sought to leave Cuba during these years, and in 1979, the storming of the Peruvian embassy by Cubans looking to emigrate resulted in Castro threatening to “flood” Florida with exiles. He stipulated that relatives had to come and pick up their relatives by boat in the port of Mariel.
Ojito returned to Cuba only years later, with a press badge on a journalistic assignment. She then had cause to think back over her childhood, youth, emigration, and adulthood, and contemplate her place within the mass exodus that came to be known as the Mariel boatlift.
Ojito recalls her childhood in Cuba. Her parents had always known that they intended to leave the island; they were merely waiting for an official exit permit from the government. Ojito recalls her schoolmates’ families obtaining their exit permits. Eventually, Ojito’s family was left with few friends. Her parents recalled the pre-revolutionary days with a mixture of wistful nostalgia and bitterness, and they would tell her about a time when shampoo and conditioner still worked well enough to clean hair, appliances were widely available, and medicines were easy to find. After working extra hours, saving money, and a little ingenuity, Ojito’s father was finally able to purchase a Russian television set. Ojito recalls being thrilled.
In her fifth grade class, Ojito’s teacher asked if any of the students believed in God. She and one other boy raised their hands. Ojito knew that she had to walk a fine line in these situations. Her parents were opponents of the revolution and the poverty that it brought to the country, but they couldn’t be entirely open in their criticism: Castro’s authoritarian regime was quick to label its opponents as undesirable, and opposing him risked imprisonment or worse. Ojito’s parents did not lie about their intention to leave Cuba, but they did not discuss their political beliefs and frequently helped out with public projects and repairs in the neighborhood. For this reason, they were on good terms with their pro-revolutionary neighbors. After admitting to her faith, Ojito knew that she had made a mistake. School was a space in which children were instructed first and foremost in their identity as Cubans and beneficiaries of the revolution. Ojito had learned about the revolution before she learned multiplication.
Although Ojito was an excellent student, she struggled in school as a result of her lack of interest in political activities. Before middle school, she was able to obtain her student records and read with tears in her eyes the many entries, spanning years, from teachers who commented on both her academic ability and her troubling refusal to engage in activities that supported the revolutionary cause.
Ojito was not the only member of her family to face difficulties. Her parents were pressured to spend more time in their neighborhood’s revolutionary organization, and the climate of fear in Havana began to increase. Ojito was aware of political persecution, the suppression of dissidents, and the jail time and disappearances that awaited many who opposed Castro. Food shortages became increasingly common. When Jimmy Carter was elected president of the United States, Ojito remembers her father growing more hopeful: This man seemed willing to work with Castro. Ojito wondered if improved relations between the two countries might allow her family to finally escape Cuba.
Bernardo Benes arrived in Havana in 1978 for the first time since leaving in 1960. He had been a young lawyer intent on removing Castro from power by force. His return, however, was to be a peaceful mission. In the years since he’d left Cuba, he had become a prominent banker and a rising political star in Miami. There he had been approached by a group of Cubans wanting to talk to him about how to improve relations between the United States and Cuba. He was intrigued. As a young man, Benes had watched the events of the revolution unfold with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. When the violence finally ended (or so he thought), he grew especially enthusiastic about Castro’s promise of equality and democracy. That enthusiasm was shattered, however, when show trials for “counterrevolutionary elements” began. Benes realized that Castro’s government would not be democratic, but an authoritarian regime. He had left Cuba with little money and made a life for himself and his family in Miami, but he never forgot about his home country.
During the summer of 1977, Carter began a new round of negotiations with the Cuban government. His goal was human rights oriented and included the release of Cuban political prisoners. Castro’s motives were less clear. Although he wanted to see an end to the US embargo of his country, he also benefitted from the hostility between the two nations: His popularity depended in part on the way he was seen as Cuba’s defender against the powerful neighboring country. He also needed Soviet economic support and did not want to alienate the Soviet Union through too-friendly relations with the United States.
After his initial meeting with Castro, Benes would return many more times. After 20 years, Castro felt that the revolution was well established and became interested in cultivating better relations between the now very successful Cuban exile community in Miami and their relatives back in Cuba. The Carter administration, too, worked on improving relations during this period. When Castro finally agreed to the release of a group of political prisoners, both nations hailed it as a step in the right direction. Castro released thousands more political prisoners, but although most wanted to emigrate, the United States was slow to process visa requests. Still, this felt to many like a new era in Cuban-US relations. Thousands of exiles were allowed to return to Cuba to visit their families, and the atmosphere in the country was celebratory: In addition to seeing their exiled relatives, many Cubans received gifts of American goods and clothing from their families. People were smiling and well-dressed, many for the first time in years.
Ojito recalls a particular fondness for her uncle Oswald, who emigrated in 1971. He was only able to return to visit his family after eight years in exile. His week-long visit was an emotional time for the family. Everyone gathered to spend time with Oswald, although Ojito recalls the way that they all avoided sensitive political topics of conversation. Oswald and his family had settled in Hialeah, a predominantly Cuban city next to Miami that was a common destination for exiles. Contrary to what Ojito had been taught in school, she learned from Oswald that capitalism did not render everyone poor. Her uncle had a car, health insurance, and a job that he was free to choose or quit if he wanted to. He was allowed to grow his own food in a garden, which was prohibited in communist Cuba since all food grown belonged to the state, and he had much more freedom than he had in Cuba.
During the summer of 1979, Cuba was engaged in diplomatic conversations with the United States. Freed political prisoners roamed the streets, and Ojito was horrified at their tales of abuse while incarcerated. More than 100,000 Cuban Americans returned to visit their relatives, bringing $100 million in goods to the island. Reactions were mixed. Among those loyal to the regime, these gusanos, or worms (a common epithet for anti-Castro Cubans), were traitors. For those who wanted to leave Cuba, they inspired envy and longing.
Ojito turned 15, and although the family did not have enough money for a party, they gathered together and took photographs of Ojito in a beautiful dress. Not long after her birthday, her boyfriend told her that he was being sent to fight in Angola. Cuban soldiers, whose army was allied with the Soviet Union, would fight alongside the nation’s Marxist government. His mother, who up until that point had been a loyal supporter of the revolution, threw her framed portrait of Castro out into the street.
That year, Ojito spent a portion of her time at one of the schools in the countryside, where all Cuban students were sent to help out in the agricultural sector and to further develop their commitment to the revolutionary cause. Her 16th birthday, celebrated at the end of her time in the countryside, was as lackluster as her 15th, and she could tell that her father felt the sting of state-mandated poverty and political repression. She indicated her willingness to leave Cuba, and her family began their exit paperwork.
This first set of chapters introduces the author, Mirta Ojito, and her family and grounds her personal history within the broader context of post-revolutionary Cuba. Ojito notes in the very beginning of the narrative that she always knew her family intended to emigrate, and in sharing this piece of information, she includes herself within the history of Cuba’s political dissidents. Even the chapter name, “Worms Like Us,” alludes to the term gusano (worm), the pejorative epithet hurled at Cubans who were not overtly supportive of Castro and his revolution. In immediately grounding herself within Cuba’s anti-Castro faction, the author places her story in dialogue with others that detail life under Castro’s regime.
The author provides an in-depth account of Political Repression in Castro’s Cuba both through her own family’s history and through what she remembers of life in Cuba before her family’s exodus. Ojito’s parents, who remember pre-revolutionary Cuba, cannot help but feel as though Castro failed to deliver on his promises. Basic goods like soap and shampoo were difficult to obtain, and their quality (when the family could find and afford to purchase them) was often so poor as to be unusable. Her father was not able to choose his career, and her family was looked down upon by their pro-Castro neighbors. There were vast networks of spies watching Cuban citizens’ every move, and because speaking out against the regime had been criminalized, few felt comfortable doing so. This created difficulty because no one’s statements could be trusted: A neighbor who spoke out loudly in favor of Castro might do so out of genuine support for the leader or out of fear of being targeted by his regime for perceived lack of support. According to the author, no one was ever sure who was speaking truthfully: “The lies were necessary because any perceived ideological flaw could potentially mark a family as counterrevolutionary, an enemy of the revolution” (19). Ojito, too, felt the sting of this repressive atmosphere. At school, she was shunned both for her family’s politics and for her religious beliefs. Her teacher, upon finding out that Ojito is Catholic, scoffed: “How can such an intelligent girl believe in God?” (21). Ojito was a bright and dedicated student, but because she wasn’t a dedicated citizen of the revolution, she became subject to discrimination.
This portion of the text also introduces Bernardo Benes. He is the first of several key historical individuals whom the author includes in her memoir. Her choice to broaden the scope of her narrative to include Cuban figures instrumental in the Mariel boatlift is deliberate, and it reflects her journalistic background: Later in the memoir Ojito recalls struggling post-exile, and notes that becoming a journalist helped her to contextualize herself within the history of Cuba and its diaspora. She says she sought to bring humanity to the stories she wrote through her own lived experience as a Mariel refugee, while also drawing on the expertise she gained through formal education about the social and political histories of both Cuba and the United States. This approach to writing is also reflected in her memoir, and in including the stories of men like Bernardo Benes, she creates a text that is grounded not only in personal memories but also in the broader history of the Mariel boatlift. Benes, in particular, is important for his diplomatic role within Cuban-US dialogue during the years surrounding Mariel, but also for the way that he speaks to Cuban history writ large. He was a young, intelligent, educated man during Cuba’s revolutionary period, and he had initially been thrilled to watch Cuba unshackle itself from Batista, its corruption, colonial history, and inequality. However, like many in his position, he was chagrined to see Castro fail to deliver on his promises of democracy. His emigration reflected the trajectory of many young Cubans and helps to explain why there was such a large and successful Cuban community in South Florida during the years following the revolution.
It is during her discussion of Benes that the author brings up the importance of Cross-Border Cuban Family Networks. Although Cubans in the United States had long supplemented the meager income of their relatives and provided them with medicines and supplies unavailable on the island, during the late 1970s, these exiles were finally allowed to return to Cuba to visit their families. They brought with them more money and goods, but also their success stories. People like Ojito’s uncle Oswaldo had jobs they could quit if they wanted (this kind of career mobility was not possible in Cuba), cars, health insurance, homes, and middle-class status. They showed Cubans the vast disparity between what Castro’s regime claimed about life under capitalism and what was actually possible in countries like the United States.