'Truckonaut' finally wins
his freedom
Vanessa Bauza. Published
January 9, 2005 in the South
Florida Sun-Sentinel.
HAVANA · Luis Grass had much to
celebrate this New Year's Eve: a new home,
opportunities and a fresh start.
The Cuban mechanic made headlines last
year after converting two vintage American
jalopies into floating, amphibious vessels
in thwarted attempts to reach South Florida.
After spending 10 months at the U.S. Naval
Base in Guantanamo Bay, Grass, his wife,
Isora, and their 5-year-old son Angel Luis
were granted political asylum and relocated
to San José, Costa Rica, last month.
But when the clock struck 12, his thoughts
were with the family he left behind in the
run-down Havana neighborhood of Diezmero.
"I went to bed sad, melancholic because
I am far away from my family, from my children,"
said Grass, 36, who left behind a 13-year-old
son and 9-year-old daughter from his first
marriage.
Still, despite his homesickness, Grass
gushed about the new life he has found in
Costa Rica a year after risking it all on
the sea.
"I feel like a different person because
I have freedom," he said in a phone
interview from San José. "Someone
without freedom is like a caged bird. That's
what happens to Cubans.
It's like
a punishment that's imposed daily."
Unlike Cuba, where he felt trapped by minuscule
state salaries and penalties on private
enterprise, Costa Rica offers possibilities
for his family's future, Grass said.
"I can shout it, say, 'I am free to
do whatever,'" he said. "I can
buy a car, buy things for my son with my
salary and not have to invent like the people
in Cuba."
As a refugee, Grass said, his family will
receive $1,350 a month in financial assistance
for six months. Cubans living in Costa Rica
also have extended a helping hand, including
Huber Matos Jr., the son the former revolutionary
hero turned Fidel Castro opponent.
Grass said he will receive a work permit
from the Costa Rican government on Jan.
17. He has spent the past month doing what
he knows best: repairing the cars of his
Cuban friends.
Grass became a folk hero to car buffs in
July 2003, when he and 11 others sailed
away from Cuba in a 1951 Chevy truck attached
to a pontoon of 55-gallon drums. Puttering
along at about 8 mph, the group of would-be
migrants steered to within 40 miles of South
Florida when the U.S. Coast Guard intercepted
them. Grass and the others were repatriated.
The seagoing Chevy was deemed a navigational
hazard and destroyed.
Once back in Havana, Grass and the others
applied for political asylum at the U.S.
diplomatic mission, but most of the migrants
were rejected for not meeting the necessary
requirements.
So, once again, in February 2004, Grass
and his friends retrofitted a 1959 tail-finned
Buick. They sealed the bottom of the car,
added a retractable propeller and injected
foam into the Buick's fenders to make it
float.
The group of 11 was intercepted again.
Like the ingenious but ill-fated Chevy,
the Buick was sunk. All the immigrants were
repatriated to Cuba except Grass and his
family, who were taken to the U.S. Naval
Base at Guantanamo Bay, after U.S. officials
said they demonstrated a credible fear of
persecution.
After almost 10 months at the naval base
awaiting asylum, Grass and several other
Cubans became frustrated and staged a hunger
strike. On Dec. 1, his family and 17 other
Cuban refugees were relocated to Costa Rica.
Grass' arrival in Costa Rica received so
much media attention that sometimes strangers
and taxi drivers recognize him as the creative
"camionauta" or "truckonaut."
Filmmakers have expressed an interest in
his story. But for now he wants to live
a quiet life outside the public eye.
He is circumspect when asked about the
possibility of someday moving to Miami,
his original destination where an uncle
and several cousins live.
"I want to prosper. I know I will
do well here," he said of Costa Rica.
"If there are other possibilities to
get ahead I will see."
Back in Havana, other would-be immigrants
who were repatriated after the Buick voyage
wished Grass well. However, their prospects
for legal immigration are still unclear.
Dr. Nivia Valdes, whose husband, Rafael
Diaz, owned the Buick-boat, was selected
for the U.S. visa lottery, which grants
about 20,000 Cubans the opportunity to move
to the United States every year. However,
because she is a doctor she says it could
take up to five years for the Cuban government
to grant her an exit permit. For now her
family's future is in limbo, she said.
"We are like dead, we don't do anything.
For what? Our plan is to leave," Diaz
said.
Vanessa Bauzá
can be reached at vmbauza1@yahoo.com
Copyright
© 2005, South Florida Sun-Sentinel
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