CUBA NEWS
The Miami Herald

Visiting U.S. senator calls for an end to Cuba sanctions

By Anita Snow, Associated Press. Posted on Mon, Sep. 15, 2003

HAVANA - Sen. Max Baucus, the highest ranking American official to visit Cuba since a crackdown on dissidents, said Sunday that eliminating U.S. sanctions could help nurture democracy on the island.

Baucus, a Democrat from Montana, said as an American he valued freedom of religion and association and ''I would like to help the Cuban people obtain these same rights.'' Eliminating restrictions on American travel to and trade with Cuba could help do that, he said.

Underscoring that idea, Baucus and Republican Rep. Dennis Rehberg, also of Montana, signed a memorandum of understanding to sell the Cuban government up to $10 million of products from the state, such as cattle, wheat, barley and dried beans.

Earlier in the day, the lawmakers met for an hour with Oswaldo Payá, Cuba's best-known democracy activist.

Payá is a top organizer of the Varela Project, a signature-gathering drive seeking guarantees for freedom of speech, assembly and business ownership.

''They were very interested about the situation of the political prisoners, and about the Varela Project,'' Payá told reporters about the lawmakers. "They expressed a lot of moral support and understanding.''

''It was a significant meeting and I applauded his efforts to give voice to his people,'' Baucus said of Payá.

The communist government has not recognized the project and many of its organizers were arrested during a March crackdown that put 75 dissidents behind bars. It was the harshest crackdown on the opposition in decades and brought Cuba worldwide condemnation.

The wives of several imprisoned dissidents also met with the congressmen at Payá's home.

The congressmen arrived here early Saturday for a weekend trip with Montana farm representatives interested in selling their products to Cuba. A meeting with President Fidel Castro before the delegation's departure early today was considered likely.

Websites ship world of goods home to Cuba

By Gail Epstein Nieves, gepstein@herald.com. Posted on Sun, Sep. 14, 2003

Too busy to run by a Western Union? Tired of all those Calle Ocho storefronts advertising "Envíos a Cuba?'' With a personal computer and a credit card, anybody in South Florida can quickly and easily transfer money to relatives in Cuba.

With a few keystrokes, Cuban exiles also can have delivered to the island an amazing array of goods, from essentials (oil, rice, diapers, medicine) to luxuries (rose bouquets, color televisions, boom boxes, perfume).

E-commerce with Cuba is flourishing, says Enzo Ruberto, a Canadian middleman whose fledgling efforts in 1997 have evolved into a six-website enterprise -- partnered, of course, with the Cuban government.

There's just one catch: U.S. citizens and residents who turn to third-country companies to deliver gifts or money are, for the most part, violating the U.S. embargo on trading with the island nation.

That's the word from the U.S. Treasury Department, whose Office of Foreign Assets Control (OFAC) enforces the embargo. The agency hedged for nearly a month before giving a final answer to The Herald's question: Is it legal to use these sites?

''You've thrown together a mix we've never quite seen before,'' Richard Newcomb, director of OFAC, said, explaining why he had no easy answer at first. "This is the first time we've ever been asked to rule on this.''

Treasury spokesman Taylor Griffin said the question required a ''comprehensive legal analysis'' because pertinent federal regulations do not address electronic commerce.

At issue are websites such as those that are part of the Internet Cubaweb Communication Corp. of Ontario, one of several companies cashing in on the marriage of two powerful trends: Internet commerce and exile remittances.

In addition to goods and cash, the sites offer legal aid, insurance and personalized postal services in Cuba.

All welcome American credit cards. Transactions are posted in Canadian currency to the discreetly shortened nickname ICC.

'ONLINE WAL-MART

''We call it an online Wal-Mart, Cuban-style,'' jokes ICC president Ruberto, who boasts of having 10,000 clients in 65 countries, the majority in Europe "and a very small portion through the United States.''

ICC processes customers' online orders in Canada and contracts out delivery of goods and services to the major government-owned companies in Cuba, Ruberto said. Delivery takes three to five days in Havana, 10 to 15 days in the provinces.

FLOWERS AND BUFFETS

The sites have generated more than 10,000 transactions in Cuba this year, he said, though the number can't be independently confirmed. The most popular items are flowers and food buffets for parties.

A surprising variety of items are offered, including living room furniture, computer desks, bunk beds, kitchen ranges, construction and plumbing supplies, watches, ceiling fans, washing machines and food.

All the merchandise offered online can be purchased in Cuban stores by people with dollars. Though ICC's online prices are higher than the stores', Europeans and other long-distance customers appear willing to pay more in exchange for added convenience and the element of surprise.

''If it's Mother's Day, you go to our online stores and buy flowers for her, or a cake, anything you would find in any major department store worldwide,'' Ruberto said.

But, with a few exceptions, doing business through the websites is not a legal option for U.S. citizens or residents.

Under Treasury and Commerce Department regulations, people may send money and a range of items to Cuba as long as they use U.S.-licensed shipping companies and stay within remittance limits, said Griffin. Remittance limits are $300 cash per household per quarter and $200 per month of authorized goods, he said.

Under those circumstances, the U.S. government's authorized goods list includes food, clothing, vitamins, seeds, medical supplies, personal hygiene items, soap-making materials, fishing equipment and more.

But only two categories of items may legally be sent to Cuba through third countries such as Canada, Griffin said: food and publications, including ''informational materials'' such as letters, e-mails, CDs and works of art.

Money transfers through third countries are forbidden unless the funds are emigration related, Griffin said. To help someone leave Cuba, you can send them $1,000 -- $500 before they get their U.S. visa, and $500 after.

Also not allowed: buying online insurance or legal services or using an American credit card for online payment, unless the payment is for food or publications or some other authorized category, Griffin said. Not surprisingly, the websites offer no words of caution regarding U.S. regulations or the embargo.

Ruberto said ''very few people from the states'' use his sites, even fewer from Miami, but he declined to give numbers.

''We try to keep away from political situations like that,'' he said of marketing to Miami-area Cubans. "We're growing well over 300 percent annually just with our European and Canadian clients, so why stick your toe in a beehive?''

ENFORCEMENT

Even if Cuban Americans warmed to the websites, aggressive U.S. enforcement against customers seems unlikely, considering that the sites have been around for years and Treasury hadn't looked at them before The Herald inquiry.

There's also the matter of how investigators would even find out someone was using the online service, absent a specific tip.

Still, Griffin warned anyone contemplating using the sites that all violations of sanctions are subject to enforcement.

"We are commited to the full and fair enforcement of sanctions, now that we've had an opportunity to look into these websites, and we've been able to determine some of the things that are permissible or not.''

Discrediting dissidents, enemies is common in Cuba

By Nancy San Martin, nsanmartin@herald.com. Posted on Sat, Sep. 13, 2003

The compromising footage released this week of prominent dissident Elizardo Sánchez came as no surprise to those familiar with the inner workings of President Fidel Castro's government.

Hidden cameras, well-placed microphones and bugged phone lines are tools of the trade for a country that still uses neighborhood snitches to keep an eye on the comings and goings of its citizens, according to several high-profile Cubans who fled the island.

''The government records all the time,'' said Alcibíades Hidalgo, a former Cuban ambassador to the United Nations and personal secretary to Castro's brother, armed forces chief Raúl Castro.

''Hidden cameras are used to film those whom they want to trap, discredit or embarrass,'' Hidalgo, who left Cuba last year, said in a telephone interview from Washington. "I lived under that same anguish, knowing that you are constantly being filmed and recorded, not being able to speak freely in your own home.''

The videotape of Sánchez allegedly receiving a medal of honor from state security agents is the latest public attempt by the government to discredit him as a legitimate human rights activist. The video follows the release of a book last month alleging that he is an informant.

Sánchez, head of the Cuban Commission on Human Rights and National Reconciliation, has vehemently denied the allegation and claimed to be the target of a smear campaign. Attempts to contact him Friday were unsuccessful.

Public humiliation is not a new weapon for Cuba.

Before international press last year, Castro sought to embarrass President Vicente Fox by hitting the play button on a taped, private conversation with the Mexican leader.

Castro's daughter, Alina Fernández Revuelta, said that while secret recordings are a common tactic, the public attack against Sánchez has taken a twisted turn. Agents who have been outed in the past -- including several who served as witnesses in trials against the 75 dissidents arrested in March -- received public praise by the government.

''What's not usual is burning someone in this way,'' said Fernández, who escaped Cuba in 1993 and now lives in Miami. "It's totally destructive.''

Still, when it comes to quashing one of its most well-known opponents, Fernández said, "What's more effective? To have Elizardo put in prison or demoralized. They've put him in a defensive position and that is the worst place to put any human being.''

From Cuba, with her treasured strings attached

Now violinist and student teacher Lizbet Martinez uses music to help her pupils cope with language barrier.

By Daniela Lamas, dlamas@herald.com. Posted on Mon, Sep. 15, 2003

Nearly a decade after the young Cuban rafter brought her U.S. Coast Guard rescuers to tears with a rendition of the Star-Spangled Banner, Lizbet Martinez took out a plastic recorder, blew gently into the instrument and, to the delight of the audience, produced 16 perfect notes.

Martinez has serenaded the White House, but on this recent afternoon she played to 24 fifth-graders who know her as Emerson Elementary School student teacher Ms. Martinez.

When she finished the brief demonstration, one girl blurted, ''You play pretty,'' the class clapped, and Martinez gave a quick, giggling bow.

Martinez became famous as the 12-year-old girl who brought a treasured violin from Cuba and stuck to a rigorous practice schedule at the Guantanamo U.S. naval base, when the site was a detainment facility for Cuban rafters. She's now 21, engaged to be married and anticipating a December graduation from Florida International University.

With degrees in music performance and music education, she hopes to pass along her hard-won knowledge of how music can transcend language barrier.

'It's great to see the students' progress,'' said Martinez, who has been teaching private violin lessons since she was 17. "I love working with kids, showing them that music is a way to express themselves.''

This lesson is most poignant to those who, like Martinez, start school without being able to speak English. Even if they do not understand the language, she said, when it comes time to sing they're free to join the rest of the class.

''I see myself in them,'' Martinez said. "Music was a subject where I felt comfortable.''

As Martinez described her attachment to music, longtime Emerson Elementary music teacher Nancy Rosenberg looked on with approval.

Rosenberg hadn't planned to take an FIU student teacher this academic year, but she said she couldn't give up the chance to work with Martinez.

When she learned -- at 4:30 p.m. on a Friday last spring -- that Lizbet Martinez was slated to join her class, she felt the hairs on her arms stand and she needed to find a chair. Rosenberg and her husband had cried over coffee one morning in 1994, she remembered, when they first read about Martinez's plight in Guantanamo.

''As a musician, it touched something in my heart that was so close to me,'' said Rosenberg, who plays the clarinet. "We feel so lucky to have her here now.''

Now, Martinez tells her story fluently, anticipating questions before they come -- she started playing the violin by chance, and initially believed the Star Spangled Banner to be a church hymn.

But she has new stories, too.

Martinez will move from observing to teaching classes at Emerson Elementary. In a month, she'll start working with high school students, perhaps conducting a band.

This will let her grapple with the more complicated musical questions that excite her -- the coordination of an orchestra, the intimacy of a chamber group.

''You hear the other sections, and it's so powerful,'' Martinez said. "It's just an awesome feeling.''

She performs weekly with Fascination Strings, a piano, violin and cello trio. Their main venues are weddings and parties where, Martinez breaks into an infectious smile, they perform everything from Cuban music to American oldies.

And just two weeks ago, her boyfriend, Ivan Martin -- a French horn player and composer Martinez met at the First Baptist Church of Coral Park -- took Martinez out to dinner at the Eden Roc and proposed. There was champagne, a photo album, even hidden cameras. She said yes.

Where Are They Now? is a regular feature in Tropical Life People that offers an update on someone who was recently in the news. If you have suggestions, write features@herald.com.

Cuban film director breathes much easier after defection

By Fabiola Santiago. fsantiago@herald.com. Posted on Sun, Sep. 14, 2003

It was one of those Miami scenes, a perfect movie moment cloaked in the shadows of the Cuban drama.

In a downtown classroom, a stirring movie made on the island had just ended: Las noches de Constantinopla (The Nights of Constantinople), tells the story of what happens in a family when the dictatorial matriarch who has ruled them for decades in an isolated Havana mansion goes into a death-like coma.

The lights are back on, and the metaphor for Cuba and Fidel Castro lost on no one, here was the film's director, Orlando Rojas -- one of the most accomplished filmmakers of his generation -- sitting center stage. Freshly arrived from the island, supposedly just for a visit as a Guggenheim Fellow, he talked about the difficulties of making movies in a totalitarian state.

He had a lot to say: What was to be one of the most important films of his career, Cerrado por reformas (Closed for Renovations), was abruptly suspended on the third day of filming, and many years passed before he was able to make Las noches in 2001.

If Rojas was hesitant, timid, it was because behind the scenes, a real-life drama was unfolding for the director whose Las noches de Constantinopla, headlines this week's Festival of Alternative Cuban Cinema.

The lanky 53-year-old, a competitive swimmer in his youth before he joined the Cuban Film Institute (ICAIC) 33 years ago, was in the midst of making a life-altering decision: Would he uproot a lifetime, a career, and leave Cuba for good? Become an exile? Stay in Miami?

''Sí, me quedo,'' he now confirms.

He's staying.

''I was a tormented man that night. I wasn't sure of all I could say. Leonor was still in Cuba. But I could sense people were protective of me. I could feel it,'' Rojas says from the Miami apartment where he is starting a new but uncertain life alongside wife Leonor Rodríguez and their three dogs -- Coco, Canela and Mona -- strays they picked up on the streets of Havana, love dearly, and were able to whisk out of Cuba via El Salvador.

He is, Rojas says, like the characters he brings to the screen, a man struggling "to make my movies, to just be me.''

''Some people might think it trivial, and I don't want to offend anyone because there are people who can't get their children out of Cuba, and here we are bringing dogs,'' says Rojas, who came here in February. "But how could I leave them behind? When they censored Cerrado por reformas and I woke up in the middle of the night crying because I knew that wonderful movie would never be made, they dried my tears.''

He is best known for two feature films -- Una novia para David (A Girlfriend for David), one of the most commercially successful films in Cuba, and the bold Papeles secundarios (Supporting Roles), in which he also tackles an aging dictatorial character, a theater actress who doesn't want to let go of power. Sometimes I Look at My Life, a documentary Rojas made about the the life of Harry Belafonte, also has won critical acclaim across borders.

Rojas says he has always struggled to make his movies, navigating the hermetic halls of censorship, dealing with a state-owned film industry that has little resources and is fraught with "internal wars, injustice and problems.''

Still, he has made ''my movies'' -- films that mark a time in Cuban history and touch on the theme of an individual's struggle to be himself amid the pressures of society.

''He's one of the two most important directors in Cuban film today,'' says festival director Alejandro Ríos.

Rojas says he has been able to make films that -- alongside the internationally acclaimed Fresa y Chocolate (Strawberry and Chocolate) and Guantanamera by Rojas' mentor, the late Tomás Gutiérrez Alea -- brought the conflictive Cuban reality to the screen because ''in art, there is always the possibility of camouflage,'' Rojas says.

But in the last years, he adds, he has felt more and more ''like a tree with withering branches.'' In one of his long speeches, for instance, Castro went on for hours about how "the filmmakers are making counterrevolutionary movies.''

''We all thought that would be the last day of ICAIC,'' Rojas says.

Then, shortly after he traveled to Miami in February, came the public crackdown on dissident journalists with long jail sentences and the execution of three men trying to flee Cuba on a stolen ferry.

''There are moments in which you have the strength to fight against all the difficulties -- and I admire those who continue doing it -- but I felt like one of the characters in my movies,'' Rojas says. "I saw myself trying to swim in a Category Five hurricane. I couldn't breathe.''

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