Friday 14 February 2003

Back from Cuba for a few days now - and hoping to keep the thoughts and memories fresh. So much to process - first impressions, reflections over the short term and undoubtedly more insight to come with more time.

Havana The first several days in Havana, a city full of history and hope for the future. Spanish colonial architecture, colonnaded arcades, gardens in every courtyard, music filtering from every window and trios on every corner, blue blue skies, the architecture baroque, ornate, crumbling, restored. There is a master plan for a comprehensive strategy to manage the safeguarding of old Havana from Challenge of a Utopia , the program of the Historical Office of Havana, Eusebio Leal Spengler writes:

"I confess that we were trained as pure intellectuals, as experts who, from our offices or laboratories, would occupy ourselves preferably with museums, monuments and archaeological sites. Life, however, led us to consider (and today we resolutely assert) that in our countries, possessors of a vast patrimonial legacy, it is impossible to act on the area of preservation if this does not entail a vocation for social and community development as well….

We have committed ourselves to striving for a cultural development based on a social a commitment with the community that inhabits the Old Havana, as we are unable to ignore the Latin concept of the participatory role of the people."

This is truly evident everywhere. The old city a system of squares linked by walkways, parks, gardens, with grand buildings lining the squares and smaller residential and commercial buildings along the streets and avenues. I think most breathtaking of all is El Convento de San Francisco de Asis - built in the early 18th century. The church feels older almost medieval and the large cloister, two stories with a lush tropical garden and palm trees soaring through the open center - reaching up, up to Heaven. No longer used as a church, it is a perfect place for concerts. I wander in during a rehearsal. A French/Cuban group of students rehearsing for a sacred music concert to be given that night. Period instruments: viola, harpsichord, flutes and the most beautiful operatic voices. Most exciting for me are the faces of the students, black, mulatto, white, boys, girls, mixed together, comfortable and at ease - and I was thinking that before 1960 these young people would never have been brought together in Cuba to play classical music and to sing in this sacred, elite place.

In this rebuilding of the old city, with fresh paint and stucco, vivid yellows and blues, resurfaced columns and polished brass, there is also evidence of the social revolution here. It is real and it is genuine.

I don't have the feeling in these first moments of being in a "communist country" or a "police state". To the contrary it is a warm, welcoming place. The Cuban people I meet, directly and indirectly are open, smiling, not fearful, not guarded - no police presence, no sense of being "watched". There is a strong sense of community and connectedness to the place. I feel safe and welcome. Music is playing everywhere and hips are swaying.

But there are difficulties - telecommunications are difficult, computers and internet access are still relatively rare but increasing. Most of the restaurants are government owned and the food isn't very good - not bad - but just not interesting or good. Good meals are to be had in the paladars, or private small restaurants in individuals' homes. So there is this new market economy with private sector businesses starting again. The paladars are very successful - fresh grilled lobster, delicious salads, the ever-present rice and beans, pineapples and oranges and guava and mango. Fresh milk is a luxury but the government provides 3 glasses a day for all school children, pregnant women and elderly in day care homes. After the Russians left the source for high grade feed for the cattle disappeared. Now the cattle graze and milk production is a fraction of what it was, imported powdered milk isn't as good and is very expensive. So very little beef ( it might be more sinful to kill a cow here than in India), and we're probably drinking reconstituted or evaporated milk in the rich caf? con leche every morning. Well anyway the coffee is fantastic, dark and full-bodied but not bitter.

Back to Old Havana… wandering around there are other surprises, the kosher butcher (feels like another century here), the scissor and knife sharpener riding his bicycle around the old quarter, art galleries, more gardens. A lot of the contemporary art reveals the preoccupations of the people - there is an undertone of darkness and sadness in much of the work. Cuba is coming out of the Special Period now. This was a time of great economic hardship. When Fidel ousted Batista in 1960 he brought a plan for a socialized economy and they have succeeded - full access to good health care and nutrition, universal education with almost 100% literacy, very low infant mortality and 97% breast feeding for the first 4 months, women's rights and essentially no racism. But the failure of this revolution was in the lack of resources and a plan to build an industrialized nation. Reliant on agricultural products as exports, the US trade embargo crippled the economy. The only option was the Russian solution. It was an unhappy alliance - but a necessary one. Sugar traded for everything else. But when the USSR collapsed so did the Cuban economy - no oil, no milk, no electricity, problems with water, with everything. Now they are starting to come out of this period as there is increasing trade with Europe, Canada and other Latin American countries. Thousands of tourists --- mostly European and Canadian - but increasing numbers of Americans - on artistic, cultural, humanitarian, educational missions and some just tourists.

Yes there are a lot of wonderful old cars in Havana. Hollywood would go crazy. I don't know all the names - but there are Chevy's, Buicks, Chryslers - posh leather interiors, shiny chrome, sputtering motors - and lots of old Russian boxy looking things. Once you own a car it's yours - yours forever. No easy way to buy or sell it or buy a new one. So you keep it and keep it working. Mechanics here can keep anything working - and mostly on diesel fuel.

The first morning I am sitting on the terrace of the romantic Hotel Santa Isabel and I see men carrying crates and dragging dollies across the cobblestones. At first I can't imagine what all this racket is - ah the booksellers. Theycome each morning and set up their stalls. Lots of copies of Fidel and Lenin and Stalin - look a little more closely and there is of course Hemingway - but also Marquez, Tolstoy, Shakespeare, Allende (Isabelle), Cervantes, Gogol, old leather bound volumes and back issues of National Geographic and Time and Life (I mean back issues from the 1940's and 1950's). Everything is mildewed and damp - but they're all there.

Hemingway - the mojitos and daiquiris and the sea. The Finca Hemingway - his gracious estate about half an hour out of town, overgrown in that tropical way now but the house is open - entirely open - open doors and windows - with all of the original furniture and books and magazines in place, slowly decomposing in the humidity and heat of the tropical forest and the salt of the sea air. His presence is acutely alive here. His graffiti on the bathroom wall where he marked his daily weight, the bottles of rum, whiskey, the typewriter on the shelf that he stood at barefooted to write, the rooms where he entertained Ingrid Bergman and John Garfield and wrote For "Whom The Bell Tolls," "The Old Man and The Sea" and "Islands in the Stream. His fishing boat and his immense swimming pool - now empty - because it wouldn't be fair to put so much fresh water in to this big pool when there is not enough fresh water in the adjoining village.

Jewish Havana

These first few days are spent with Tatiana - visiting the Jewish communities and the synagogues, the cemeteries, the community centers. But also because she is a doctor we spend a lot of time talking about the health care system and medicine in Cuba. Medicine and health care will come later. Our mission is to explore all aspects of the Jewish community in Havana and to introduce me to the history of Jews in Cuba, the "diaspora" in the countryside. Along the way we will also discuss and I will learn about life in Cuba (Jewish and otherwise) over the last 40 years, and especially the health care system (another important interest of mine).

First we walk through the old city. The streets meander; the architecture is romantic, enticing in this City of Columns: Colonial and Baroque, decaying and rebuilt all at once We find the site of the very first synagogue in the old city - but now there is no longer a sign. It is not used. Nearby is the kosher butcher. It is immaculate but has the feeling of a place from a different time. I don't see big freezers, but fresh, clean meat, being ground and cut. We chat a bit with the butchers there and some of the customers. Tatiana knows everyone in the community. I am beginning to meet them, introducing myself, trading ancestry and heritage, sharing what's common, finding what's different.

We then walk over to Adath Israel, an orthodox synagogue whose building was constructed in 1957. There are now about 120 member families in Adath Israel, about 300 people. These members are mostly Sephardic, some Ashkenazim. Services are held daily, meals are provided every morning for the elderly. "Judaism has the possibility for evolution - all the time changing and meeting the needs of the community". There is a mehitzah here, men and women sit separately during the services and there is a mikvah next door. It is used mostly by visiting Lubavitcheers. There are signs in the synagogue reminding the congregants not to talk (aka gossip) during the services .. just like at home here in the US. Jews come to the synagogue to see our friends and neighbors and to catch up on the comings and goings of our daily affairs, as much as to pray and meditate.

We talk about the upcoming holiday of Purim. Tatiana tells me a story I didn't know. In March 1953 Stalin had a plan to exile a great number of Jews to Siberia. He disclosed his plan on March 8 - it was Purim. On March 10 Stalin died and the Jews were saved. Maybe a Kabalistic interpretation of the story of Queen Esther and the evil Haman. I make a Tzedakah donation to Adath Israel and we go on.

Our visit continues over the next several days. Driving out to the cemeteries: the Ashkenazi cemetery on top of the hill, the Sephardic one below. The cemetery filled mostly with European Jews who fled Hitler and escaped here to this crazy place for a Polish Yid. All the names we know: Hirsch, Schwartz, Tendler, Schecter, Cohen, Levy ….. and a monument to the 6 million - one of the first in the world to be erected. My father had family who came to Cuba escaping the Nazis - they had a dry goods store he told me. Did they stay? Did they leave? We look at the tombstones and search through the list that the keeper has - no one named Schlesinger. None of them died or was buried here; they must have left. I am moved by the names, dates, and memorials of these Jews who are buried here on this Caribbean island, many of them fleeing the Nazi Holocaust. We visit the shrine to those murdered by the Nazis, one of the first Holocaust memorials to be erected and I place a stone on the site. Nearby is the "geniza" - the burial place for Sifrei Torah and other holy books. We do not burn books. The cemeteries have large marble and granite tombs above ground - influenced by the Spanish colonial style. But the headstones have names carved in Hebrew and one has a photo of the deceased.

First stop the next morning.is the Centro Sefaradi, the main synagogue for the Sephardic community. This is a more modern building. In order to raise some money they rent out the main floor room as a private gym: beautifully equipped with the most modern exercise equipment, mirrors, and rock and roll music blaring on the speakers, more like Brooklyn than Havana. Where are the lilting and rhythmic sounds of the ever-present Cuban guitars? We met with Jose Levy Tur, the head of the Sephardic community and president of this synagogue, a lovely, gentleman. He has a bandage on the side of his face, a skin cancer recently removed. He is fair skinned and light eyed, born in Cuba, and has spent most of his life in the merchant marine and working outdoors - now his skin is paying the price. We go upstairs to the sanctuary and he opens the Ark to show me the beautiful Torah scrolls. The silver breastplates are spectacular and one in particular which came from Turkey - elaborately designed and quite unique. They need silver polish and we must send some on the next mission!

I have some Tzedakah for the Centro Sephardi, and a small silver kiddush cup - but more importantly I have brought a Tanach in Hebrew/Spanish, a gift from my father to this synagogue. Jose Levy Tur accepts it proudly and gracefully.

Our next visit is the Patronato: el Gran Synagoga de Congregacion Hebrea in Havana. This synagogue with its soaring arch in modernist 1950's style is in beautiful condition, completely renovated,totally refurbished. Here is the largest congregation in Havana, in Cuba. This is the Conservative and mostly Ashkenazi synagogue (and the one most often visited by Americans). I am impressed by the extensive library of books on Judaic studies, Jewish history, Israeli and modern Jewish literature. The Hebrew School for the children in Havana is here, and children from all of the congregations come. There are several programs: small children, teenagers and youth, adults and elderly. I spend a good deal of time in the Patronato with Dr. Jose Miller, the President and Head of the Jewish community in Havana and with Adela Dworin, the vice president and librarian at the Patronato.

Dr. Miller and I have much to discuss. He is a retired maxillo-facial surgeon, an accomplished and highly respected physician. Now he is very interested in questions of medical ethics and particularly in Jewish interpretations in medical ethics. This is a topic that I am also very engaged in professionally, as Chairman of the Ethics Committee at New York University Medical Center. In fact this week, there is an international conference on medical ethics being held in Havana and Dr. Miller is an invited speaker and panelist discussing religious issues in medical ethics. The meeting will take place over Shabbat but he will find a way not to miss Kabbalat Shabbat and Saturday morning Shaharit (because there is a bar mitzvah this weekend!). We exchange ideas and discuss some difficult questions: genetic testing for diseases like Tay-Sachs which have a high incidence in the Jewish population, BRCA1/2 mutations in Jewish women with breast cancer, withholding treatment at the end of life. It is a lively and informative conversation.

I then spend time with Adela and other members of the synagogue, discussing the role of the synagogue in the community. The Patronato is the hub of activity: religious, education and social for Jewish Havana. I visit the classrooms and am very impressed with the number of children who are learning to read Hebrew, the extent of their background in Jewish history and particularly the acute awareness of the Holocaust. The computer resource classroom is most impressive - and is used for classes not only in the Jewish community but also for the community at large. I have some Tzedakah for the synagogue, and some gifts from NY friends: a beautiful Havdalah candle, silver kiddush cup, music tapes and teaching materials for the Hebrew school.

I spend some more time chatting with other members of the community who are always wandering in and out of the Patronato. I am delighted by the number of young people who are comfortable in the synagogue and with their Jewish identities. There is a pride but also a feeling of ease about them.

Friday night is Kabbalat Shabbat. We arrive early at the Patronato - this is a very special weekend because there is a Bar Mitzvah. Bar/Bat Mitzvah is not common - there are few young people and only recently has there been an educational program to prepare them adequately for this important event: a major success of the work done by Nestor Schwartz from the Joint Distribution Committee. Nestor and his partner Mara are Argentinean and they are living and working in the Jewish community in Cuba now - perhaps for another 18 months or so. Nestor has helped organize the training for the b'nai mitzvah. Mara is a teacher and coaches the choir. They are young, attractive, bright and enthusiastic and remind me of Peace Corps workers in the 60's and 70's. It is refreshing and exhilarating to meet them.

The bar mitzvah boy is named Victor: he is handsome, confident and proud. His mother lights the candles and the whole congregation sings and welcomes the Shabbat together. Also visiting tonight are groups of Jews from New Jersey and California. It is a warm and comfortable feeling to all be together. After the service we enjoy a wonderful meal together - and experience a little Havana black-out, a power outage. But not to worry, the synagogue has its own emergency generator and we have light and music again in no time. I spend more time talking with members of the both the Cuban and American communities.

Saturday morning is the bar mitzvah. Victor helps lead the services and is called to the Torah for his first aliyah. He reads beautifully and flawlessly - everyone is in tears - especially the Torah reader who along with Nestor has been his teacher. I am sitting next to Dr. Rosa Behar and she tells me a beautiful story. This man came from a family of mixed parentage. Like many Cuban Jews his father married a non-Jewish Cubana. When his father died, some friends and family members told him that he should go to the synagogue to say Kaddish. But he didn't know how. So he went. And he wanted to learn - out of respect for his father. But he then began to discover his own roots in Judaism. He studied, learned to read Hebrew, to recite the Kaddish and now is the Torah reader for the congregation, a very spiritual and learned man. He, though, is also married to a non-Jewish Cubana. Victor's father is called to the Torah; it is his first aliyah and he has prepared for several months for this moment - so he is also Bar Mitzvah. I myself am honored with an aliyah and feel it is such a privilege to share in this wonderful moment. It is a joyous day! We stay for lunch and continue the celebration.

The next day I meet with Dr. Rosa Behar and the women's group. We talk about the important role of Jewish women in the community - socially and religiously. The women are active as teachers, workers, and role models in the community. We then turn to questions relating to women's health. Since I am an oncologist with a specialty in breast and gynecologic cancers we talk about cancer education. We discuss the risk factors for breast and gyn malignancies - and particularly mention the genetic predisposition of Jewish women. I also discuss the importance of self-exam, regular medical check-ups, diet, exercise etc. and then take specific questions from the women. It is a meaningful dialogue. I then visit the community pharmacy in the Patronato and have donations for it. Dr. Behar administers the pharmacy - they need more medicine, especially inhalers for asthma, anti-hypertensives and thyroid medicine.

I have one last visit and discussion about Jewish education and Jewish life in the diaspora with my new friends. It is soon time to leave the Patronato and Havana and travel to my other destinations.

Trinidad

Trinidad is a very different place, a Spanish colonial city. Simpler. The people are darker, the houses are painted brighter colors, the streets wind up and down the hill and beaches are glorious. Dinner in a paladar in town - a poor looking building on a quiet street - inside a luxuriant garden with a waterfall against the wall. Delicious food and a discussion about Santeria. The religion that mixes African mythology and animalism, spiritualism with Catholicism. Each Saint has a corresponding African god. Many practitioners of Santeria - easily noted by their all white dress - but some in "hiding". Not as dark or violent as the Haitian counterpart - not as wild as the Brazilian. The Cuban version - more music and more dancing. Less demonic. Entertained not by a trio tonight but by a troubadour. One singer and his guitar.

In Trinidad we visit the Casa de Maternidad. This is another aspect of the health care system which is surprising and impressive. Each provincial city has specialized "casas" - for maternity, for the elderly, for the disabled. The Casa de Maternidad is for pregnant women who have some complication of pregnancy: diabetes, inadequate weight gain, hypertension.. the women came come and stay in the casa for 2 or 3 weeks as needed. For 15 women there were 5 nurses, a dietician, 2 cooks, 2 housekeepers, a physician (ob-gyn) who makes rounds twice a day. Families visit - open visiting hours. The doctor has an ultrasound, medications, and access to the hospital. Serious problems are referred to the hospital; all deliveries and c-sections are performed in the hospital. A normal delivery means 72 hours in the hospital, a c-section 5-6 days for mother and baby.

I looked through the charts - the shiny aluminum flip tops from the days of Dr. Kildare. The patient history, the physical, the labs, ultrasound reports and pictures, medication list, nurses notes, dietary notes, and progress notes twice a day. The doctor is a knowledgeable, gentle, soft spoken young man. The patients feel safe and well cared for - they are. Aggressive patient education about prenatal care, nutrition and vitamins and the sacred 3 glasses of milk each day are provided to all pregnant women. No rules requiring marriage but very few unmarried women get pregnant, very few teen pregnancies. There is aggressive education about safe sex, about breast feeding (97% of women breast feed for at least 4 months), about maternal-fetal health.

The average family has 2 children. Contraception with the pill or IUD is common and prescribed for any woman who seeks it. There had been a significant decline in the population in the years immediately following the revolution. Many people left; those who stayed weren't procreating. Now the population is starting to increase again. In general this is a country of young people, but the average life expectancy is 75 years. Infant mortality rates are very low.

The doctor told me that each woman undergoes HIV testing in each trimester. Here was an issue - there is really no informed consent for this - the blood is drawn as a matter of course. "Well, what happens if a woman is HIV + " I ask… "We have never had a case here in Trinidad" he responds. But I think what happens is probably isolation and quarantine. I don't know if there is anti-retroviral therapy here.

There is no talk of AIDS in Cuba. Castro is terribly homophobic and during the Mariel boatlift sent out hundreds, maybe thousands of homosexuals and prisoners who were HIV + and were subjected to abysmal treatment in detention centers, jails - no medical care. There is also no talk of prostitution, but it exists. or alcoholism. Yet, I found an old church where AA (Alcoholic's Anonymous) meetings were being held - that was in Cienfuegos.

Back in Trinidad and wandering around the streets of the old city - art galleries, the fine arts school. Here the artists seem more lighthearted than in Havana. More color, the seacoast, the flowers more vibrant - fewer images of death and desperation. Tourists from America, Canada and Europe at the beach hotels - most of them oblivious to the world outside of the hotel. Most of them oblivious to the Cuban people and their stories.

Biking through the Valley of the Sugar Mills - endless sugar cane, rustling in the wind, the sweet scent in the air, green, green green. Lunch at the former home of a plantation owner. As we approach we can see a tall tower - almost like a pagoda rising up over the cane. It was from the top of this tower that the plantation owner would look down on his fields to see if the slaves were working. Ah, yes, the Revolution. La lucha. Now they serve lunch to tourists [in the plantation home] with a trio playing the rumba and the breeze refreshing and cool.

Jewish Trinidad/Sancti Spiritus

Here in Trinidad I visit with Jose Isidoro Barlia and his family. They live in Sancti Spiritus - but their daughter Ana lives in Trinidad. This community is very small - about 45 persons in total. About 15 of them are "young people" between the ages of 12-30 and there less than 10 children in the community. The community was really only re-born about 7 years ago in the late 1990's. Prior to that there were individuals who knew of their own Jewish heritage, but no group identity. These Jews are Sephardic, mostly of Turkish ancestry. Barlia's grandparents came to Cuba in 1914. The community grew over the years but then most of the Jews left in 1959/1960. There is little communication with those outside of Cuba, but visitors are increasingly arriving from Europe and the US.

Recently there has been a rebirth of the Jewish community in Sancti Spiritus. Things here are much less developed than in Havana - but still there is a strong sense of Jewish identity and community. There is a Sunday school for teaching Judaic studies, the holidays and daily rituals- celebration of Shabbat and the major festivals. Barlia's wife is the teacher. They do not have a Sefer Torah but study Humash. There is no formal minyan. There is no Jewish cemetery. This community makes great efforts to meet with the other Jews in the interior: in Santa Clara and Cienfuegos. Two years ago there was a large joint meeting but transportation and communication is difficult.

Now, most of the Jews are intermarried with non-Jewish Cubans. But an important development is the conversion of these spouses. A "beit din" is coming soon - at the end of February. Three rabbis (from Chile, Mexico and Argentina) are coming to oversee these conversions and perform religious matrimonial ceremonies. The spouses have been studying and preparing for their conversions. Nine people from this community are planning to be converted. There will also be some circumcisions. There is no mohel in Cuba. Some babies are circumcised in infancy; older men have surgery performed by urologists - circumcision is also a big concern of the population.

Mrs. Barlia [Daisy] shared a wonderful story with me: recently they were able to renovate their home. A "Mogen David" ( Star of David) is part of the exterior decoration. One evening there was a knock at the door. She answered it and found an elderly English man. He was passing by and noticed the Star of David. "This must be a Jewish home," he said in halting Spanish. ":It is", she replied, welcoming him in and they spent the evening together talking about how he came to be traveling in Cuba and how their Jewish family came to be settled here in the interior of the island. It is the feeling of being connected that is so automatic when we Jews meet.

I have some tzedakah for this community and some gifts as well: a Havdalah candle, an embroidered hallah cover, silver kiddush cup, music tapes and teaching materials for the school, a bottle of wine for Shabbat. Barlia's youngest daughter offers me a beautifully crocheted Mogen David. The children do a lot of handicrafts in the Hebrew School. It will remind me of her, her community and the story her mother shared with me.

We talked about the fates of our various communities and ancestors. My grandparents Russian and Polish, theirs Turkish - how they found their way to the New World - and the lessons we have learned from them. We talked also about the Holocaust, about current political events in Israel and the US and how to teach the young people about our history - and hopefully to prepare them for the future.

Ana shared with me her own medical problems and we talked a bit about that as well.

We were sorry to have so little time together.

The sunset in Trinidad is spectacular over the water, the Caribbean Sea. We are on a large catamaran, of course with mojitos and cerveza - relaxed, appropriately tired from biking and ready to just sit back and rest.

Cienfuegos

We bike from Trinidad to Cienfuegos. This is our longest ride - at first winding along the seacoast and then cutting inland through some rolling hills. This is now dry country, hot, sunny, arid - kind of like Colorado - on this side of the mountain range where the precipitation doesn't reach. There is less agriculture, more subsistence farming here, some cattle - not many. The houses are less interesting and less colorful, shanty shacks but still clean and well tended. Electricity. Good roads. People are hanging out here, not working, hanging out in the shade. What are they waiting for? A ride on anything to go anywhere?

There is a Botanical Garden outside of Cienfuegos. It was the Edwin Atkin's Botanical Garden but no longer bears the name of this American academic. He started this garden in 1901 to collect exotic tropical and sub-tropical specimens. It then became a research center and was owned by Harvard University until the revolution. They do research on sugar cane, research on agriculture and horticulture. Specimens from all over South America, Central America, Mexico, Africa, Madagascar, China. A grand alley of Royal Palms, more than 20 species of palms, bamboo, ficus (the walking trees), bromeliads (these aren't the parasites that I thought they were), a coca plant from Peru, the silk-cotton tree, and teak. Nothing is flowering at this time of year.

In to the city of Cienfuegos, a whole other place altogether. A port city. Founded in the 19th C. by French not Spanish businessmen - here from Louisiana - some feeling in the main square of New Orleans. The architecture more staid, less romantic than old Havana. Better in the twilight than in the daylight (aren't we all?) Entering the building on the corner to climb the little observation tower - on the way is a ballet class. Degas. The girls are young, in leotards, stretching and flexing and turning. On the next landing a flamenco class - the girls older, draping their shawls and stamping their feet. The building - again - elegant in its decay - but would be better if it were repaired.

Jewish Cienfuegos

I walk from my hotel (the Hotel La Union) to the home of Rebeca Langus Rodriguez . A few blocks away but it feels like a long distance alone in the dark. Not all the streets are lit. Doors and windows open, kids playing in the street, dogs barking and running in the gutter, people out and about - should I be frightened? At first I am a little. Will I find the house in the dark? I find it and climb the stairs - to a small apartment. Sitting room in the front, kitchen and bedrooms in the back.

Rebeca and her family and the Jewish community in Cienfuegos welcome me. Like Trinidad/Sancti Spiritus this is also a small community, recently re-organized. The Jews here are also the descendants of Turkish Jews who came to these cities for business in the early 20th century. Most left in 1960 - with only a very few remaining. At the most there were 50 Jews here, now less than 30. In 1993 the community re-formed into a Jewish congregation. Rebeca's home is the center of community activities. Her living room is the "synagogue", school, dining room, social center. She has a nice collection of books - but no one here can read Hebrew. They use Spanish transliteration of Hebrew words for common blessings and prayers: the Kiddush, the "Motzi" and the "Shema". Most of their studying is in Spanish translation. Shabbat is often celebrated together and the major holidays are recognized. Pesach is a very important event here, with everyone joining in one big seder in Rebeca's home. Each family receives an allotment of Pesach supplies (matzo) organized by the Patronato. Nestor and Mara of the JDC visit here also. ààààà I spend a good deal of time meeting with and talking to the members of this community about their history, their current practices and their goals for their Jewish futures. Most of these individuals, like the other Jews I have met in Cuba, are professionals: teachers, doctors, dentists, engineers. There is a great deal of interest here in the American system of education, both secular and religious, and we compare the preparation of students in universities, professional schools and Jewish schools. They are particularly interested in hearing about Harvard, MIT, University of California and University of Texas. There are a number of teenagers present at our first meeting; they are very curious about their peers in America. One young couple is engaged; the girl is not Jewish but is studying so that when the beit din comes she can be converted and then have a Jewish wedding. The kids are wearing jeans and the girls know that their belly-buttons should show - kind of the J-Lo look, and the boys are in baggy jeans and T-shirts with slogans.

I have some Tzedakah and gifts for this community too: a Havdalah candle, silver Kiddush cup, music tapes and teaching materials for the school. We hug and say farewell - I hope my pictures come out!

I return to the hotel and am in my room, reading, writing, soon to be sleeping. The phone rings. It's a member of the community.. She is in the hotel - she has something she wants to talk to me about - could I come down? Of course. I can't imagine what it is. Did I do something wrong? Does she need something special? She was interested when she learned that I was an oncologist specializing in breast cancer. Could she ask me some questions about that? Yes. Do you have cancer? No. But I have dysplasia. This is the second or third time now that a woman has told me she has this diagnosis. How do you know? Did you have a biopsy? No. I felt pain in the breast, tenderness and some swelling. The ultrasound and the mammogram didn't show any cancer but showed some thickening of the tissue. Oh, I get it, this is what they are calling fibrocystic disease. She like the other 2 women I met with dypslasia has been prescribed vitamin A, vitamin C and a diet low in fat and caffeine. She feels much better, the tenderness and swelling are gone. She is scheduled for another sonogram and has been instructed about breast self-exam. She is 48 years old. I reassure her that she's fine and the treatment is reasonable. I reiterate that if she feels anything new or different or of concern to go immediately to the doctor. Don't be afraid - it's better to find a problem early and take care of it than to ignore it. Here the women are just as worried about breast cancer as their US counterparts. We talk about risk factors and even a bit about genetics. She understands. It makes sense this treatment - retinoids? Differentiating agents? Less toxic than Tamoxifen - who knows maybe better? She was there with her mother, her husband and her child. Now they walk home. I go back upstairs.

Last Day in Havana

So it's back to Havana for one last day - we drive in and arrive at the Hotel Nacional, the big hotel a la Breakers on the Malecon. Built by and for the American mobsters who trashed the place and then abandoned it. Still has the old air of cigar smoke, gambling, prostitution and rum. Grand, but a little seedy. I prefer the Santa Isabel in the old city… we have our final dinner together as a group. I visit the synagogue one last time, bringing greetings from the other communities and sharing my experiences and insights with them. Overall I am invigorated and inspired by these wonderful, warm people who have welcomed me into their homes, their communities, who have shared their stories and bread. We are all part of the same whole. Back to the hotel to pack and leave in the morning. Cuba, now in the past --- but coffee, t-shirts with Che's picture, the recipe for mojitos, some CD's and hundreds of photos --- the swaying palm trees, the columns in the old city - it still comes back. Maybe I will, too.