Movie Exposes Cruel
Limits On Cuba Travel
By Ana Menendez, The Miami Herald
November 12, 2006
Against the tyranny
of abstraction comes Those
I Left Behind , a new documentary that challenges U.S.
policy toward Cuba through the strength and sadness of individual
stories.
It premiered Thursday night at Florida International
University. When the lights came on, there was sustained
applause and also tears.
The film, by Lisandro Perez-Rey,
explores the separation of four Cuban families and their
efforts to remain connected despite politics and distance.
There's enough in it to move and irritate just about everyone
with a stake in the details. And that's the documentary's
greatest strength -- its bullheaded insistence on story over
ideology.
By now everyone knows Fidel Castro built his revolution
by dividing families. And after a few black and white shots
of a young, fulminating Fidel, Perez-Rey quickly moves on
to the focus of the film: the new U.S. rules that, as if
taking a cue from the dictator, seek to get at politics
through the family.
''We all know that in Cuba people can't
leave,'' Perez-Rey told me Friday. ``There's nothing I can
do to change the policy of a totalitarian government. I can
only change the policy of my own government.''
The documentary
traces the travels and disappointments of parents and siblings
as they try to negotiate the new law. But the star of the
film is Carlos Lazo, the Iraq War veteran who has spent the
past two years campaigning against the new restrictions.
''I'm
a veteran of two wars,'' Lazo said after the screening, ``Iraq
and this war of love.''
LESS-FREQUENT VISITS
Before 2004, those with family in Cuba could visit once
a year. But then the Bush administration changed that to once
every three years and redefined ''family'' to exclude cousins,
aunts and uncles.
The new law devastated thousands of families
who had come to depend on the visits economically and
emotionally.
At first, there was an outcry, with many Cuban Americans
openly protesting for the first time against a Republican administration.
But
then came the old Cuban talent for making do. Many Cuban Americans
quickly learned to circumvent the restrictions by going with
''religious'' organizations or flouted the law by traveling through
third countries and finding other ways to get money to relatives.
Their
own problems resolved, many stopped agitating.
Lazo was one of
the few who refused to break the law and instead set about trying
to change it.
Lazo arrived from Cuba in 1992, leaving behind two
boys. He joined the military, served in Iraq and was awarded
a Bronze Star.
But when he tried to go to Cuba in 2004 to visit
his sons, he learned that because of the new restrictions, he
would have to wait two more years.
Last year, the United States
granted his sons visas and
they now live with him and his wife in Seattle. But Lazo refuses
to stop campaigning for change.
''I think it would be a lack
of honesty and care for others to solve my own problems and then
be quiet,'' he said.
DEEPER MEASURE
Those I Left Behind may include too many moody
shots of the sea and of birds flying freely, but no one who cherishes
family can ignore its deeper message. The film remains a brave
stand against the politics of hate, even if it's sad that such
a documentary needs to be made at all.
Castro is dying, and
his discredited revolution is in shambles. There has never been
a better time to address the miserable failure of our own Cuba
policy and refashion it into something both humane and workable.
But in Washington it's still 1959.
Thousands of decent, Castro-hating
Cuban Americans are suffering under the idiotic policies that,
at this late stage, are still being pushed by a vocal and
embittered minority.
We've spent a generation asking Cubans
on the island to rise up. When will we?
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