| Written by Maria Elena Salinas |
| Monday, February 25 2002 |
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| (Note: This is the third and last column in a series that Maria Elena Salinas is writing about Cuba.)
Havana, Cuba -- For 10 years I have been writing letters to Fidel Castro -- and for 10 years he has not written back. For 10 years, I have been requesting a one-on-one, sit-down interview with Cuba's aging revolutionary leader. I have an extensive list of questions, and I update them on a regular basis just in case I get my long-awaited interview with "El Comandante." A few weeks ago, I finally came face to face with Castro, but it was nothing like I had expected.
Covering the visit of Mexican President Vicente Fox to Cuba, I had media access to all the public events surrounding the trip. But Cuban security officials had a "no question" policy for journalists. I was told I could only speak to Castro if he initiated the conversation. Still, I had my camera -- and my questions -- ready just in case.
My big break finally came on the first day of Fox's visit. With help from friends in the Mexican delegation, I was able to enter a reception honoring Havana historian Eusebio Leal. Before Castro's unscheduled arrival, Cuban security agents tried to escort me out of the building. But I managed to stay put long enough to find myself 4 feet away from Castro at the end of the event.
"Good evening, Comandante," I told Castro as we walked side by side out of the building down a long, winding stairway. At that point, the image of Castro as a ruthless dictator was overshadowed by the sight of an elderly man having difficulty walking down a flight of stairs. The conversation that ensued lasted roughly five minutes.
"Mr. Castro, I have been trying to interview you for 10 years," I told him.
"I just gave an interview to Mexican television," he responded.
"But I am not with Mexican television," I said.
That's when the 75-year-old Castro reached for the media credentials hanging around my neck.
"Where are you from?" he asked. "Florida," I responded. "Why are all the beautiful women from Miami?" he said.
Suddenly, I found myself in the uncomfortable position of having to fend off a flirtatious remark by one of the world's most controversial leaders.
"I am with Univision, which is watched by millions of Hispanics throughout the United States and several Latin American countries," I told him. "And I would like to do an interview with you."
At that point Castro's security guards were back, trying to push me away. That's when I decided to mention my acquaintance with his sister Juanita, who lives in Miami as an exile.
That definitely caught his attention. He asked me how I know her, and I told him I purchased medicine at her pharmacy in Miami's Little Havana. I mentioned family ties, and he pulled me toward him while his nervous bodyguards just watched and waited for the first chance to kick me out. Castro, who has not spoken to his sister in 42 years, was suddenly nostalgic. He asked me how she is doing and told me he does not hold a grudge against his sister, who has been an outspoken critic of his regime.
When President Fox finally joined Castro, the two presidents walked away. I reminded Castro about my long-awaited interview. "Will they allow you to air it?" he asked. At that point, his guards finally succeeded in separating me from him, and Fidel Castro walked away without giving me an answer.
My face-to-face with Castro was not what I had expected. I never got the chance to ask him about the possibility of holding elections in Cuba, about Elian Gonzalez, about Cuba's alleged ties to terrorism or about his vision for Cuba once he steps down or passes away. Instead of speaking to a revolutionary icon, I spoke to an old, nostalgic man with ailing health. For now, my questions will have to wait. |
