Connect with us

Commentary

‘Did this really just happen to me?’

Cuban cell phone was only link to outside world

Published

on

Washington Blade International News Editor Michael K. Lavers wrote notes in his travel journal about his experience at Havana’s JosĆ© MartĆ­ International Airport on May 8, 2019, after Cuba authorities told him he could not enter the country. (Washington Blade photo by Michael K. Lavers)

MIAMI BEACH, Fla. ā€” Wednesday was to have been the first day of my seventh trip to Cuba. The country’s government put a quick end to that plan.

My American Airlines flight from Miami landed at Havana’s JosĆ© MartĆ­ International Airport shortly before noon. I was one of the first passengers off the plane.

There were a few dozen people ā€” mostly customs employees ā€” in the large customs hall downstairs when I approached an officer who was sitting in one of the more than a dozen booths. I said “good afternoon” to her in Spanish and handed her my passport and “tourist card” visa that I bought after I purchased my flights last month. She began to enter my information into a computer and after a couple of minutes she told me to stand behind the line at which people wait before they approach the booths.

A woman who I later realized was a customs manager ā€” who subordinates called “la jefa” or “the boss” in Spanish ā€” approached me and asked for my passport and visa. I gave them to her, and then walked over to where Cleve Jones ā€” a San Francisco-based activist who was to have been the grand marshal of a government-approved International Day Against Homophobia, Transphobia and Biphobia march in Havana that was cancelled earlier in the week with little explanation ā€” and two other Americans who were on my flight were waiting for a contact to escort them through customs. The four of us chatted for a few minutes until the customs manager called my name. I walked over to her and a male colleague with whom she was standing asked me three questions: How many times have I been to Cuba? What is my profession? What was the purpose of my trip? I answered each of the three questions and the man then told me I was not allowed to enter the country. I asked him why and the only thing he said was my name was on a list. He directed me to a row of seats near an emergency exit and I sat there with my backpack, carry-on and a plastic bag with things I bought at Miami International Airport before the flight. Someone from Jones’ group asked me what was happening, and I said something to the effect that I was not being allowed into the country. I don’t know if they heard what I said.

I used my iPhone to call my husband in D.C. and text Washington Blade editor Kevin Naff to let them know what was happening. I also used my Cuban cell phone to call a contact in Havana. The person who escorted Jones and the other two Americans through customs arrived a short time later and they left about half an hour after our flight landed. I knew I was going to be on an American Airlines flight to Miami that was scheduled to leave at 7 p.m., but I asked the customs manager to confirm this information and to tell me why the government had refused to allow me to enter the country. She said she didn’t know and apologized to me. She also asked me if I wanted any water or food. I thanked her; but said no because I had a full water bottle, snacks and half a breakfast sandwich from Miami with me. I asked her if I could use the restroom. She said yes and I walked over by myself.

The thought of spending more than six hours in a Cuban airport was dreadful, but I was not overly scared because I had not been formally detained and the customs manager was doing what she could to keep me comfortable. I spent the next couple of hours walking back and forth to the restroom, pacing around the customs hall, using my iPhone’s notes app to write the Blade’s article about what happened and talking to a man from Angola who was not allowed to enter Cuba after he arrived on a flight from Panama. I also called a contact in Havana and told them I was “bored out of my mind.”

A contact in the U.S. called my iPhone at around 3 p.m., and I began to tell them what was happening. The customs manager and the same male colleague who told me I was not allowed to enter Cuba approached me about 15 minutes later and told me I could not use cell phones in the customs hall, even though several of their colleagues were using theirs. The customs manager then told me to turn off my iPhone and give it to her. She then told me she would keep it with my passport and give them back to me before I boarded my flight to Miami.

I felt even more disconnected from the world after they took my iPhone, but I still had my Cuban cell phone. I muted the ringer, placed it into the hat I was wearing and used it to text the contact in Havana with whom I was in contact and to and Maykel GonzĆ”lez Vivero, publisher of Tremenda Nota, the Blade’s media partner in Cuba. I also took my travel journal out of my backpack and began to write down what was happening. At 3:59 p.m. I wrote “awaiting deportation from Cuba.” I also noted a young male customs employee about 20 minutes earlier walked me upstairs to the departures lounge and allowed me to buy bottles of water and a coffee with Cuban pesos I had from my last trip to the country earlier this year. I wrote in my journal he told me, “I don’t like politics when (we) talked about Trump.” I bought an extra bottle of water for the Angolan man who was sitting next to me downstairs and gave him some of the cookies and dried fruit and nuts I had with me.

The air conditioning was not very strong and it was 90 degrees outside, but I was otherwise comfortable over the next two hours as I waited for my flight back to Miami. At around 6:30 p.m. the customs manager called me over to an elevator. She gave me back my passport and iPhone, handed me my boarding pass and escorted me to the gate. She handed my passport and boarding pass to a gate agent and told a male airport employee to escort me onto the plane. The customs manager said thank you to me as I entered the jet way.

I was the first person to board the plane, which made me feel extremely self-conscious because I was escorted past a group of elderly people in wheelchairs who would have normally boarded well before a 37-year-old man with no health and/or mobility issues. The person who escorted me onto the plane told me before I left customs that American had upgraded me to business class. I sat down in my seat and thought to myself, “Did this really just happen to me?”

I called my husband, Naff and my Havana contact and let them know I was about to leave Cuba. The onboard WiFi allowed me to connect to the Internet, write Facebook and Twitter posts about what happened and text contacts who were able to receive iMessages. I remained on the Internet during the safety demonstration video and take off that a thunderstorm south of the airport made extremely turbulent. The flight landed in Miami shortly after 8 p.m. and I was able to call my mother in New Hampshire and let my relatives know what had happened. A U.S. Customs and Border Protection agent in customs flagged me for a “hard” interview, but it turned out to be nothing more than a simple passport check. I cleared customs in less than 10 minutes and walked downstairs to baggage claim where I retrieved my suitcase that had been damaged. I reserved a rental car, drove to Miami Beach and arrived at a hotel on Collins Avenue I found online shortly after 9:30 p.m.

Coverage of LGBTI issues in Cuba will continue

I first traveled to Cuba in 2015 to cover government-approved IDAHOBiT events. Blade Photo Editor Michael Key and I in 2017 received press visas from the Cuban government that allowed us to cover that year’s IDAHOBiT commemorations in Havana as credentialed journalists. The Cuban government has also allowed me to enter the country with a “tourist card” three times ā€” the most recent time on Feb. 28 ā€” with no questions asked.

I have reported across Cuba over the last four years, from Santiago de Cuba in the east to Pinar del Rio in the west.  

I have interviewed pro-government and independent activists and have become friends with many of them. I have interviewed vocal critics of the government in Cuba. I have published photo essays and recorded dozens of videos that document life on the island. I am also all too aware of the Cuban government’s human rights record and its treatment of journalists, regardless of who they may be or the credentials they may have.

Yariel ValdĆ©s GonzĆ”lez, a Blade contributor from Cuba, has asked for asylum in the U.S. because of the persecution he said he faced in his homeland because he is a journalist. The Cuban government blocked access to Tremenda Nota’s website on the island on the eve of the Feb. 24 referendum on a new constitution that once promised to extend marriage rights to same-sex couples. Authorities detained GonzĆ”lez in October 2016 as he was covering the aftermath of Hurricane Matthew in the city of Baracoa in eastern Cuba and again in September 2017 while reporting on preparations ahead of Hurricane Irma in his hometown of Sagua la Grande in Villa Clara province.

Authorities on Wednesday detained Luz Escobar, a reporter for 14ymedio, a website founded by Yoani SĆ”nchez, a journalist who is a vocal critic of the Cuban government, for several hours after she tried to interview Havana residents who were displaced by a freak tornado that tore through parts of the city on Jan. 27. The contact in Havana with whom I had been speaking from customs told me about Escobar’s arrest after I boarded my flight to Miami. The U.S. Embassy in Havana also tweeted about it.

I tagged Cuban President Miguel DĆ­az-Canel and other government entities in a Tweet that asks for additional information about why I was prevented from entering the country. I have not received a response, and am not holding my breath for one.

I know there are increased concerns over an IDAHOBiT march that independent activists have said they plan to hold in Havana on Saturday. I know from Tremenda Nota and other independent Cuban media outlets the country’s economic situation has grown even more dire since I was last in Cuba less than three months ago. I also know President Trump last week threatened to impose a “full and complete embargo” and additional sanctions against Cuba over its continued support of Venezuelan President NicolĆ”s Maduro.

The last two days have been quite surreal, and I continue to process what happened in Havana. I am quite uncomfortable with the fact that I find myself at the center of a story about a country for which I have a deep affection. I also want to avoid the politics and rhetoric over U.S. policy towards Cuba.

I am so incredibly fortunate to have had the opportunity to travel to Cuba over the last four years, to have had the chance to meet many of the island’s LGBTI activists and to have developed lifelong friendships. These feelings ā€” and my commitment to continue my coverage of LGBTI issues in Cuba ā€” have not changed.

Advertisement
FUND LGBTQ JOURNALISM
SIGN UP FOR E-BLAST

Commentary

Returning to the kibbutz: A journey of heartbreak and hope

Hamas militants attacked Kfar Aza on Oct. 7

Published

on

Kfar Aza, Israel, after Oct. 7, 2023. (Photo courtesy of K.T. Colin)

Editor’s note: WDG, the Washington Blade’s media partner in Israel, originally published this commentary.

BY K.T. COLIN |Ā In 2019, my first encounter with Israel was through the lens of a sponsored Birthright trip. I embarked on a three-week journey, traversing the diverse landscapes from the northern regions to the eastern territories and finally to the arid southern desert. I had the opportunity to visit different communities within Israel and Palestine. Amidst this exploration, I spent an unforgettable three days and two nights in a kibbutz situated near the Gaza border. The memories etched in my heart were ones of unbridled joy, resilience and the harmonious coexistence of the desert dwellers ā€” an emotional tapestry that forever imprinted itself on my soul.Ā Coming from an Iraqi heritage, I viewed these expressions of coexistence through a lens shaped by my own region’s history of conflict and diversity.

As I recall the Shabbat dinner at the kibbutz, the air resonated with the sacred call to prayers (Adhan) from a nearby Bedouin Arab-Muslim town. The juxtaposition of cultures and faiths was a poignant reminder of the shared humanity that bound the Jewish and Arab Israelis in this region. It was a journey that transcended the ordinary, leaving an indelible mark on my consciousness. Filled with memories of peace and unity, I returned, only to confront a reality far removed from my cherished memories.

Fast forward to last month, when I returned to the Negev Desert, specifically to Kfar Aza ā€” one of the 22 kibbutzim targeted by Hamas on that fateful day, Oct. 7, 2023. The once vibrant oasis, brimming with the light of life, now stood shrouded in the darkness of war-induced death and destruction. The very bench where camaraderie blossomed in 2019, while sharing a moment of connection with an Israeli companion, lay reduced to ashes. The thriving pathways, once bustling with life, had metamorphosed into haunting reminders of blood and rubble. The faces that animated Shabbat gatherings, weaving tales of peace advocacy between Palestinians and Israelis, were now conspicuously absent. In the wake of Hamas’s brutality, no entity ā€” be it human, animal or plant ā€” escaped unscathed. The aftermath resembled scenes from an apocalyptic movie, a tableau of sensory deprivation dominated by the stench of death and the echoes of destruction. This destruction, while uniquely harrowing, echoed the all-too-familiar scenes of conflict from my childhood in Iraq, underscoring the universal tragedy of war.

Kfar Aza, Israel (Photo courtesy of K.T. Colin)

While my roots trace back to Iraq, a land marred by wars and the brutality of conflict, the devastation witnessed in Kfar Aza struck a chord that reverberated with the echoes of my past.Ā My personal journey, from witnessing Saddam’s reign of terror to observing the aftermath in Kfar Aza, underscores a broader narrative of resilience and the enduring hope for peace.Ā Born during the Iraqi-Iranian war, my father’s absence for the first six months of my life spoke volumes about the toll of conflict. The invasion of Kuwait and subsequent wars entrenched the narrative of war as an unwelcome companion in our daily lives. Memories of the U.S. invasion in 2003, the ensuing civil war, and the subsequent loss of rights for women, secular individuals and LGBTQ+ members further underscored the harsh reality of conflict.

Yet, Kfar Aza was a unique chapter in my journey, revealing a form of malevolence that transcended my prior experiences. In their assault, Hamas meticulously targeted specifically peace activists who wanted nothing but peace and prosperity between Israelis and Palestinians, sparing no atrocity in their pursuit. This was not just about taking lives; it was a heinous assault on the very prospect of peace. The evil that unfolded reminded me of the forces mentioned in the Quran ā€” Yaajooj and Maajooj ā€” entities of pure malevolence against whom even Alexander the Great erected a wall, according to Muslim prophecy.

My upbringing in Iraq, under the shadow of Saddam Hussein’s dictatorship, fanned the flames of anti-Semitism. A once diverse Iraq, home to 165,000 Iraqi Jews, witnessed their forced exodus through decades of genocide. Subsequently, Christians, Yazidis and Sabbea Mandaeen fell victim to ethnic cleansing orchestrated by dictatorial regimes, Nazi pogroms, Iranian militias and ISIS. The slow erosion of tolerance and coexistence occurred methodically, propelled by hate campaigns championed by Arab nationalists and later fueled by Islamist movements, plunging Iraq into its darkest era.

My school days were marked by compulsory flag-greeting ceremonies, ostensibly patriotic but laden with hate. The chants of “Death to America; Death to the Zionists; Death to the Jews” echoed through the air, fostering a culture of animosity. Arabization and Nationalism classes further fueled this bigotry, leaving an indelible mark on impressionable minds.

The recent horrors in Kfar Aza echoed memories of a similar brand of terror perpetrated by Saddam’s regime ā€” the Fedaeen of Saddam, a precursor to Hamas’s brutality. The parallels were chilling ā€” beheadings, brutal punishments and a reign of terror continued even after the fall of Saddam, as they joined Al-Qaeda, leaving a trail of atrocities in cities like Fallujah and Ramadi.

As I witnessed the devastation in Kfar Aza, the echoes of war in nearby Beit Hanoun, Gaza, resonated hauntingly. The pain echoed from both sides ā€” the Israeli people enduring Hamas rockets since 2015 and the Palestinians suffering daily under the same regime. My heart shattered for the children left orphaned, the LGBTQ+ Gazans now without shelter or life-saving medications and the vulnerable girls and boys exposed to the horrors of Human trafficking and rape. The theft of humanitarian aid by Hamas left many without food and water, and the lip services to Palestinians by Arab and Muslim majority nations, painting a grim picture of a future hanging in uncertainty for those who survived.

Despite the deep scars of conflict, both in my homeland and here, I see glimmers of hope that guide us toward a shared future. I have endured the darkest chapters of conflict in my past, and I hold onto the belief that one day this war will end. I dream of a future where Israelis and Palestinians coexist in shared spaces, attending the same schools, dining at the same restaurants and dancing in the same nightclubs. Having witnessed such unity among Jews, Druze, Muslims and Christians in Israel, I pray for a day when this reality extends to Gazans and Israelis in the Negev Desert. The journey towards peace is arduous, but the human spirit, resilient and compassionate, holds the promise of a brighter tomorrow.

Continue Reading

Commentary

Why come to Washington Plaza Baptist Church?

Itā€™s about the preaching, the people, and the purpose

Published

on

Washington Plaza Baptist Church (Photo courtesy of Washington Plaza Baptist Church's Facebook page)

BY ZITA COLLINS | I grew up in a Lutheran church before I really knew who I was. Before my own opinions and belief system were formed. BeforeĀ ā€œwelcoming and affirmingā€ churches existed.

I did the ā€œexpectedā€ thing: got married to a man, had children, became a wife and a mom. But I knew there was more to me than that, the part I had to keep hidden because of the society ā€œnormsā€ so many years ago. I attended a Mormon church because that was the type of church my husband attended. As I became more myself having my own opinions and thoughts, and my husband tried to be more controlling, the marriage, of course, failed. 

I quit church. I moved on in life and met a wonderful woman. I knew there was a God, but I figured since I was ā€œliving in sinā€ He didnā€™t like me too much. My way of looking at it was ā€œGod, you stay in your corner and Iā€™ll stay in mine, and weā€™ll get along just fine.ā€ Four years later, in September 1982, my partner was diagnosed with cancer. A couple of months later, she passed away.

During those few months my friend invited me to go to her Assembly of God church. I became a regular. One Sunday in January 1983, I gave my heart and life to Christ, becoming a full-fledged believer. And once again, I gradually put away the part of me that was ā€œunacceptable to God.ā€

As time went on, I attended various churches. I attended an Anglican church for 15 years. I loved God, but I could not reconcile how I felt ā€” my LGBTQ self ā€” with scripture as I knew it at that time. It was at a church leadership meeting, when we were voting on a new marriage policy to exclude gay marriage, that I realized my ā€œcallingā€: to tell the LGBTQ community that God really loves them and accepts them as they are.

I studied scripture, praying for clarity, and realized that those ā€œclobber versesā€ have been traditionally misinterpreted, misunderstood, or taken out of context. I began looking for a church that was friendly to the gay community. I learned that the correct terminology is ā€œwelcoming and affirming.ā€ 

And I found Washington Plaza Baptist Church!

Warm and welcoming, I felt I had found a home. They knew my identity from the start, as I had let it be known that I was looking for a ā€œwelcoming and affirmingā€ church. And they loved and accepted me.

So Who is Washington Plaza Baptist Church?

WPBC is a progressive American Baptist church, located on Lake Anne Plaza, with a long and rich history. It was the first church in Reston, Va., a part of Robert E. Simonā€™s design for the new town named after him. Washington Plaza Baptist Church is an inclusive Christian Community whose worship, communion, and fellowship are open to all. We are a safe place for all people to worship regardless of race, creed, age, cultural background, gender, or sexual orientation. We affirm that all have access to the love of Christ and service to God.

WPBC is very active in Pride. We were involved with the formation of the first Reston Pride and continue to participate each year. We open our fellowship hall for the performers to change and to cool off, and we have a table on the Plaza where we give away free Pride paraphernalia as well as hugs. WPBC has held weddings for same-sex couples ā€” including my wifeā€™s and mine ā€” with most of our members helping in some way to make the day special.

At Washington Plaza Baptist Church, I have been fully embraced for who I am. I have been in leadership from early on. The pastor, Rev. Michelle Nickens, delivers sermons that are powerful and relevant, with a focus on being Christ-like in all areas, including social justice. The people live out their claim of inclusivity and affirmation. The church community truly loves and cares about the people within the church as well as those outside its doors. 

Our address is 1615 Washington Plaza West, Reston, Va. Reach us at 703-471 5225, [email protected]. (Weā€™re on Lake Anne Plaza, right next door to the Lake Anne Coffee House and Wine Bar.)

Continue Reading

Commentary

Hur knew the political ramifications of his report

The case against Biden is over while Trumpā€™s continues

Published

on

Special Counsel Robert Hur testifies before the House Judiciary Committee on March 12, 2024. (C-SPAN YouTube screenshot)

I read the transcript of Presidentā€™s Bidenā€™s sit down with Special Counsel Robert Hur, then listened to Hur, who actually resigned before he testified before Congress, and found him totally unbelievable. 

Heā€™s a man looking for something. That something is most likely a job in Trumpā€™s administration should he win. He refused to answer that question when asked. When asked by Rep. Adam Schiff (D-Calif.) if he realized what political games would be played with his report, he said it was it was in no way political. Hur gets credit for being smart. He went to Harvard and Stanford, and was a law clerk for Chief Justice William Rehnquist. He served as Special Assistant and Counsel to Christopher Wray, then assistant attorney general in charge of the Justice Department’s Criminal Division. There is no way a smart, accomplished man like Hur wouldnā€™t recognize the political implications of what he wrote.

I think once he found he couldnā€™t actually indict the president, because there was no indictable offense, he had to come up with a reason that would satisfy the Republicans he was trying to impress. So, what better than going along with the Republican playbook saying Biden was an old man who couldnā€™t remember anything and writing that is how a jury would see him? What a pile of BS. The reason they wouldnā€™t convict is there was no crime committed. 

Interestingly, Hur went even further down the Republican rabbit hole, and said Biden was only looking for money when he wanted to use the information from a high security paper in a book he was writing. But of course, like any former president or vice president, he was going to get a great book deal, which was in no way dependent on him having any high-level security papers in his possession to share. Again, ridiculous to pin it on that especially when you think about all the grift in the Trump family. 

Clearly, Jim Jordan (R-Ohio), who chairs the committee, the same Jim Jordan who I was most likely bumped out of a first-class seat on a recent American Airlines flight for, jumped on that to say Biden and his family only wanted to make money even if illegally. Again, it is beyond rational belief that Hur, a smart guy, wouldnā€™t understand he played right into Jordanā€™s hand. I think he put that in specifically for Jordan, and other Republicans, to use. Now he had to have some balance to his report, so he explained why Biden didnā€™t do what Trump did, Biden having cooperated with the feds, while Trump did just the opposite. But the reality is this didnā€™t make any difference to the Trump case, and didnā€™t break new ground in any way. Smart thing to do by Hur, but then I keep giving Hur credit for being smart.

The State of the Union speech put to rest Biden being an old man who couldnā€™t think on his feet. He clearly did, and even managed to make Marjorie Taylor Greene look like a bigger fool than she is. He had Speaker Johnson sitting behind him, actually having to clap for some things he said, even if he tried to hide those claps beneath the cameraā€™s range. This is the same Speaker who in a press conference recently confused Israel with Iran, saying repeatedly the Congress would approve funds for Iran. President Biden delivered a strong and clear speech, which put many Democratsā€™, and independentsā€™, minds at ease. 

The case investigating Biden taking documents is now over, at least with regard to any of the legal issues. That doesnā€™t mean Republicans will drop it, and Hur gave them the grist for their lies to continue. Hur kept saying he didnā€™t exonerate Biden, we can debate the meaning of the word exonerate, but again this shows how smart Hur is, and he did this for the Republicans he wants to impress. Despite this, his final report showed there was nothing to prosecute Biden on. 

The president can put this behind him, while Trump still has to deal with his case. The president is moving forward with a campaign that will show the American people why he, and Kamala Harris, should be reelected. He is out campaigning across the country making a strong case for his vision of the future, and talking about issues like abortion, and protecting democracy. If I am right, and Trump loses, Hur will realize what a big mistake he made, placing his bets on the wrong horse. 

Continue Reading
Advertisement
Advertisement

Sign Up for Weekly E-Blast

Follow Us @washblade

Advertisement

Popular