The streets of Miami’s Little Havana were bustling with Cubans earlier this month, anxious about Fidel Castro’s sickness and his decision to cede power, at least temporarily, to his younger brother Raul. But there was little sign of commotion recently in the predominately Spanish-speaking section of Jamaica Plain, in Hyde Square. In this community, there was anticipation of a different sort. For many of the neighborhood’s Cubans — some exiles, some who have spent their entire lives in these city streets — the island nation’s changing leadership ushers in a chance to end communist rule and reunite those separated by the country’s diaspora. Of course, no one in JP’s Hyde Square Cuban community is certain that Fidel’s departure will break the US embargo and open the doors to democracy, just as no one is certain they will rush back to their former homes. But for those, like Aida Lopez, who have viewed their indefinite stay in America as a temporary respite, the prospect of a Fidel-free Cuba is exactly what they have been waiting for.
The owner of La Casa de los Regalos, Aida came to the US in 1971 and still keeps calendars and postcards of “old Cuba” in a drawer insider her party-decorating store. She was just 12 years old when Fidel overthrew Fulgenico Batista in 1959. But she vividly remembers it. It was then, Aida says, that Fidel came to power and destroyed her family.
“We were together all the time before Fidel.” Which is why, at 71, Aida still looks forward to returning to Cuba and reuniting her family. “I’m going back when Fidel dies,” she says, her voice quavering with emotion and excitement.
But not everyone in Aida’s neighborhood is as eager to uproot themselves from their American lives and delve into the past. Down the street from Aida’s shop, Sixto Lopez watches over Vasallo’s Fashions, a small store filled with brightly colored eveningwear and glossy accessories. With plain clothes and a quiet voice, he seems out of place in his surroundings. Yet he feels this corner of Boston is now his home. A former political prisoner, Sixto spent seven months in a Havana jail for opposing Fidel’s policies. Two years after his release, he emigrated to Venezuela before settling in the US. “Even though I feel Cuban, my mind is American,” he says.
Sixto has been fortunate in a way that not all Cubans share. Some of his family remain in the Jamaica Plain area, including his cousin, Eduardo, who works down the street at Mr.V’s, an auto-parts business started by his father who left Buena Vista in 1943. Together, the family has retained its Cuban identity while assimilating to the surrounding culture. For this younger generation, Cuba is not just a place — a former home — but an ideal and a culture that can be appreciated from afar.
Eduardo, in fact, has never visited Cuba. Yet he disapproves with a stronger, more authoritative voice than his elder cousin of what Castro’s reign has brought. “I hate him,” he says. “He has done so much harm to so many people. My family has never returned because of him.”
