Journey of Hope : Cubans Who Fled Before U.S. Crackdown Find a Future in Southland

Denis Aguilar, 19, who fled Cuba in a small boat last month, has worked his first day in the United States, distributing flyers door-to-door in Southeast Los Angeles County. His pay--$25--was equivalent to the amount he could earn in one year as a college student in Cuba, he said over strong, sweetened coffee at a relative’s home in Bell.

Aguilar left his wife and a 1-year-old child behind and abandoned two years of university studies in mechanical engineering to come to the United States.

“In Cuba I had no future--but here I do,” said Aguilar in the rapid-fire Spanish distinctive of his Caribbean homeland.

In mid-July, Aguilar joined the desperate exodus of people fleeing Cuba. With him were his father, an uncle and a cousin. After plotting their escape for several months, they sailed in an 18-foot boat for 12 hours from their home in Santiago de Cuba to the Guantanamo Naval Base, where they were taken in by U.S. officials.

Aguilar said the trip between Santiago and Guantanamo would normally require far less time, but in order to escape detection by the Cuban navy, the boat had to divert its course into international waters. Fortunately for him and his relatives, the trip was calm and uneventful.

He feels lucky he did not wait to leave until this month, when the United States reversed its 28-year-old policy on granting asylum to Cuban refugees.

“No way would I want to end up in Guantanamo,” said Aguilar, who expressed dismay at the newspaper photos and television reports of the thousands of Cubans who are now indefinitely housed at the base. “Guantanamo is still in Cuba, and it was Cuba that I was escaping from.”

Upon arrival at Guantanamo, Aguilar and his three relatives were given refugee status and flown to Miami, where they were processed by government officials and placed in the hands of Caritas, a Catholic charity organization. Caritas transferred them to Austin, Tex., where they stayed until their relatives in Bell gathered enough money to fly them to Los Angeles.

Aguilar said that even though people dress and talk differently here, Los Angeles doesn’t seem as different as he expected. He said he can get by speaking Spanish every day and last week tried his first tacos, which he found very tasty.

“The last time I ate meat was in December,” he said.

Juan Carlos Alfonso, 28, a cousin who arrived with Aguilar in Los Angeles two weeks ago, said, “I have not seen any crimes here like they talk about in the Cuban papers.”

More than 14,000 Cubans picked up in the last week are being held in a detention camp at Guantanamo or are headed there. Since the beginning of this year, about 7,500 others--including Aguilar and his kin--beat the Aug. 20 cutoff and were permitted to enter the United States.

Along with the new Clinton Administration policy refusing entry to Cuban refugees are new regulations designed to staunch the flow of more than $150 million to Cuba each year from relatives in the United States. Cuban Americans, who could previously travel freely to Cuba to visit relatives, are now allowed to go to the island only in extreme emergencies.

And money can only be sent from the United States to Cuba under certain emergency circumstances. Previously, Americans were allowed to send up to $300 every three months to relatives or friends in Cuba. Now, Cuban Americans can ship only medical supplies, non-perishable food and a few other items.

Aguilar was shocked to find out that he would be barred from sending badly needed dollars to his wife in Cuba.

His long-term dream is to make enough money in the United States to return to Cuba and support his family. Once his country’s situation stabilizes, he said, he will resume studying engineering and get his degree.

For the time being, Aguilar is looking for a stable job in Los Angeles: “I’ll work in construction or clean hotels--whatever it takes to advance myself.” Aguilar said he could also work as a carnicero-- a butcher--because he comes from a family of carniceros in Cuba.

His father, Tirano; his uncle, Juan Alfonso, and his cousin, Juan Carlos, all made a living as butchers, a profession that has become decidedly more difficult in the years since Soviet subsidies to Fidel Castro’s government dried up.

At La Union Market in Bell, near the home where Denis Aguilar is staying, Cuban emigres gather daily amid the smells of pastries and fresh plantains to shoot the breeze and discuss their homeland’s future. Like others members of the 50,000-strong Cuban community in Los Angeles County, they have had a lot to talk about in recent days.

“I can’t support talking to Castro,” said market owner Horacio Rodriguez on Monday, in reference to the latest Clinton Administration decision to meet with the Cuban government in an effort to ease restrictions on legal immigration from Cuba. Rodriguez said about a third of his clientele is Cuban, the rest being Central or Mexican American.

Since the numbers of people fleeing the island increased dramatically after the Castro government’s decision to turn a blind eye to those wishing to leave, Cubans residing in Los Angeles have remained glued to broadcasts relaying the latest news about their homeland.

“My brother wants to leave, but now I hope he doesn’t try it,” said Haydee Sandoval, 63, as she bought fresh fruit at La Union. “They should just let the balseros (rafters) into this country.”

But interest in the issue is not confined to the Southeast cities clustered around Bell where many recently arrived Cubans settle.

“I absolutely agree with the Clinton policy,” said Downtown attorney Mario Tapanes, in reference to the President’s decisions to squeeze Cuba’s supply of dollars and prevent a large-scale migration to the United States. Tapanes, who is currently helping to process recently arrived immigrants from Cuba, said the Clinton policy is designed to prevent another Mariel boatlift, which in 1980 brought about 125,000 Cubans to this country.