Between the sea and the Interests Section (1)
By Manuel Alberto Ramy Read Spanish Version
The United States Interests Section in Havana is next to the city’s Malecón [the coastal drive]. The sea out front is the same that separates or joins Cuban families 90 miles apart. The Interests Section was created under the presidency of James Carter, who attempted to build bridges of friendship and dialogue with waves that divide. These days, however, the sea of bad policy seems to be getting rougher.
"I’ll have no recourse but to leap into the sea and let God do as He will," a man in his 40s who has just been interviewed by the USIS tells me. His red face and the tears welling in his eyes tell me what happened to him: "They denied me a visa."
"Definitely?" I ask.
"Yes," he answers, and with a curt "No more questions" he cuts me off. He crosses the road and walks away, down the seaside sidewalk.
What’s happening?
On July 17, the Cuban Foreign Ministry published a note stating that the U.S. Interests Section had granted only 10,274 visas to emigrate to the United States. That figure "represents only a 53.6 percent of the minimum quota of 20,000 visas that must be granted by the end of September 2007," the note said.
To the island’s authorities, Washington’s lack of compliance with the agreed-to quota is in response to the demands of the far right in Miami, which favors breaking the immigration accords. Havana also warns that this might lead to an increase in illegal emigration.
I also point out that one of the objectives of this attitude is to increase the pressure inside the Cuban cooker, so as to create an explosion and generate a climate of instability that could affect the U.S.
For their part, the U.S. authorities, who claim they cannot meet the commitment of at least 20,000 visas, blame the island’s authorities, saying that Cuba has not granted access to the island to 47 U.S. officials who are indispensable for the proper operation of the diplomatic post.
They also claim that they have not been able to hire enough Cuban personnel to fill posts they need, and that 28 containers containing vital materials have been held up at Havana Airport for a year because Cuba won’t grant an importation permit.
This escalation is the reason why many Cubans are looking at the waves, thinking how they can overcome them to get to the other shore, where their children, spouses or parents now live. I look toward one of the offices next to the Interests Section and see a line of men and women of various ages, braving the broiling summer sun (except for the ones who brought parasols.)
I take out my camera and start snapping pictures. Nobody objects. On the contrary, a couple returning from an interview with a USIS official approach me. She is young and pregnant; he must be about 40 and carries a backpack.
Both come from Villa Clara — about 270 kilometers east of Havana — and went through a thousand contortions to find transportation to the capital "because we’re tired of phoning to try to clear up our situation." (The USIS has a telephone line for consultations.)
The man, talkative and nervous, explains that he filed an application "in 2002 [but] I lost the CU. So I filled another form they gave me and applied again." He explained the USIS official all that, he says, and received the same answer: to call "the same number that nobody ever answers." He’s annoyed and his wife caresses his arm.
"Look, I was a political prisoner," he tells me. "I served three years in prison. I have a 9-year-old son in the United States. He left legally, with my permission, three years ago. I talk to him; he wants to see me. He misses me."
I tell him that perhaps the presence of a son in the U.S. might help him. I ask him if there’s an adult who can represent his son. His answer: "As you see, I’ve remarried; he lives with his mother."
I can read between the lines. Human feelings sometimes get in the way. No clarification is needed. To insist would be indelicate.
"I don’t know what to do," he says. "I’m desperate and I have a right to be, because I filed my application five years ago — and look at me now."
I might have told him that five years ago the USIS had not complained of lack of personnel or the detention of 28 containers at the airport, two of the arguments Washington has just raised. But that was not my job; my job was to collect stories from those who are adrift between the sea and the Interests Section.
"In 2002, I dropped off a letter right here. They gave me a form that I filled and delivered, but they rejected my application for lack of evidence." That’s the story from a man, 32 to 35, from Ciego de Ávila, a province about 300 kilometers east of Havana.
Why did he need to furnish evidence? I asked. "In 1997, I was sentenced to three years’ imprisonment for illegal departure from the island. I’m a political prisoner," he claims, adding that he filed an application for definitive departure "back in 2002, five years ago."
I think about that answer and I remember that, after the immigration agreements of 1994-95, the representatives of Cuba and the U.S. used to meet every six months to analyze how those agreements were being kept. The meetings were suspended unilaterally by the Bush administration in January 2004.
I remember more than that. According to the agreements, people arrested for illegal departures were not supposed to be imprisoned. Indeed, USIS officials used to tour the island to verify compliance with that provision. But I keep silent and make no comments. Nevertheless, he seems to read my mind.
"I also work for the Human Rights Foundation in Ciego de Ávila, directed by Juan Carlos González Leyva, and they’re threatening to send me to prison again," he says, by way of explanation. "Then I wrote again, sending more evidence. They sent me another form, I sent it back and I’m still waiting."
I find another person who has been waiting since 2002 for a definitive answer to his situation.
Seeing that I am a journalist carrying foreign-press credentials, the people on the line gather around me and volunteer information spontaneously.
"I’ve been waiting for a long, long time. I filed my application three years ago, in 2004," says a brawny, dark-skinned man barely 30. "I’m a Jehova’s Witness," he says, adding that that religious denomination "is not well liked."
The man expresses himself easily and succinctly. I tell him that a problem has arisen between Cuba and the U.S. over the topic of migration. He says he’s aware of that because he saw a report about it on Cuban TV.
"From what I see, the Americans have failed in their obligation to serve the public. Two or three years ago, the interval between one interview and the next was a lot briefer, two or three months. Now, we have to wait three years for the first interview and a year and a half or two for the next. As you see, it’s an excessive delay. I’ve been waiting for three years."
What are you hoping for? Why are you on the line? Why don’t you give up?
"I insist on talking with an official, to hear what he tells me, because it’s impossible to communicate over the phone."
A heavy-set man, over 50, wearing a red-and-blue sweater, tells me that "here, the Cuban government also makes things hard, with that deal about the white card."
To leave the country, Cubans need, in addition to the passport, an exit permit commonly known as "the white card," due to its color.
"Where do you see that to leave your home you need a permit? Where do you see that?" he asks, forcefully.
"That’s done to collect money, because you have to pay 150 convertible pesos for it," says another man on the line. [One dollar is the equivalent of 82 cents of a convertible peso.]
"Yes, but the [Cuban] immigration office issues it quickly, 10 days at most," says a woman standing under a parasol.
The conversation increases and, at the people’s request, I summarize what is being said on both sides of the Strait. According to Havana, the lack of compliance with the number of visas is done to satisfy political interests, especially in Florida. According to Washington, the Cuban authorities do not permit the USIS to fill 47 job openings and bars technical personnel needed to repair the USIS building. In addition, 28 containers have been held up at José Martí International Airport for more than a year.
"This is enough to drive one crazy," says a short, swarthy man. "There’s no justice on either side. They [the Americans] grant a visa to whomever they please. What do they want? For people to stay and so something? I’m not going to do anything because I’m not political."
It is clear he won’t add to the pressure that could burst the cooker, which is the theory of the Bush administration and the "ultras" in Miami.
Another gentleman predicts that Cuba is about to answer "something to the Americans. Pretty soon you’ll read it in Granma."
Neither in Granma nor in Miami (except in The Miami Herald, which is published in English) have the media published the statement made by the chief of the U.S. desk of the Cuban Foreign Ministry, Mrs. Josefina Vidal.
The functionary declared that 18 of the USIS’ 20 job applications are being filled; the visas for the two other workers have been granted. So far this year, Cuba has granted eight visas for temporary workers, she said. And all the visas for officials whose work involves the Immigration Agreement have been granted.
As to the containers, Mrs. Vidal said that, so far this year, the Cuban government has permitted the importation of 88 tons of materials. However, in the case of the 28 containers the USIS is complaining about, the authorities have sufficient evidence to believe that they contain materials intended for subversion, materials that will aid the opposition groups inside Cuba.
I leave the line and walk to Calzada Street, outside the gate for the people who are interviewed by the USIS. A woman about 60 crosses the street in my direction, her head bowed.
"What did they tell you?" I ask, bluntly.
"That I should wait, that it wasn’t the right time. They didn’t give me any reasons, just that things aren’t settled right now. I have two children, one here, the other there, and I have two grandchildren who were born there." She sounds angry and ready to cry, but controls her tears.
"So, what are you going to do?" I press.
"What can I do? Just hope that someday I’ll see my grandchildren, who were born there and whom I don’t know."
For now, and despite the difficulties, the pressure cooker is unlikely to explode. As I wrote in my Progreso Semanal blog ("MinRex asks for halt to manipulation of immigration topic") Washington’s lack of compliance is linked to the change in opinions and attitudes among Cuban migrants, as regards U.S.-Cuba relations.
In the not-too-distant future, this change will have an effect on U.S. elections by affecting the political control over Florida, the third-most important state in terms of electoral votes.
Manuel Alberto Ramy is chief Havana correspondent for Radio Progreso Alternativa and editor of Progreso Semanal, the Spanish-language version of Progreso Weekly.
