Migration in Cuba: The returned "balseros"

I don't know how long this text can be. I tried to describe everything and express myself through a video, but it was impossible for me to coordinate the ideas. And it is that it touches me closely emotionally because I am one of the protagonists of the story.

Do not expect images in this post, during the process I forced myself not to save any image, video or chat that could compromise me or those around me. And it is that, the new Penal Code that governs in our country determines as a crime the exit or attempt to leave the country "illegally".

In this way, those who try to migrate by boat have the added risk of facing a prison in case of failure, one even stricter than the island of Cuba already is. The causes of trying to go out on a "raft" are the same as those of those who leave by plane to Central or South America and cross borders. Exactly the same, except one, money.

Leaving by plane and undertaking the journey requires between 5,000 and 10,000 US dollars. An amount that not even by not going out to bars, restaurants, nightclubs or by not consuming on the street a normal Cuban could reach in 20 years. Preparing a boat is not cheap either, but obviously it is an achievable amount.

And every week at least 5 boats leave from all over Cuba. Of course, I do not share, understand, or accept that minors are included in this type of travel.

The question of this post, more than letting off steam, is to reflect on an aspect that catches my attention. We are all happy for those who arrive successfully and at the same time we are sad for those who unfortunately die. But we keep those who are sent back in limbo, those who even before leaving lose everything in a police raid or who, as in my case, suffer a technical malfunction that ruins everything right at the moment of leaving.

Thinking of publishing it once it was successful, I wrote:

It is very difficult to express to the people we love how much they represent to us, especially when it is a see you soon with a farewell flavor.

How to tell my mom that I love her, that her son explodes with pride when he thinks of her, but that it's okay that I'm not here, that if I'm not there, keep going, that I went after my dreams and that it's not her fault. How to explain to her that I love her and still leave her alone. No, you can't, it's inevitable that her heart will break and that breaks mine even more.

How do I tell my family (including the few friends I have) that I had to leave like a poacher, in secret, without telling them anything, without saying goodbye, without giving them that hug, that eternal hug that you give to someone you love.

I write this and I cry, and my legs give way, and my heart squeezes. And yes, I'm afraid, but life is a risk.
I love you, I really love you, stay with that, because I, in one way or another, am fulfilling my dreams.

Obviously I was going with the best of hopes, but I knew what I was up against in the worst case scenario. It was a conscious decision (perhaps that's why I oppose or resent so much that some include children in these things).

How lucky we were not to get stranded on the high seas? Yes and no. Yes, because if it was in the open sea it could have exposed us to extreme conditions. Not because I highly doubt that on the high seas we would have hit a rock on the seabed that caused us to lose buoyancy and speed.

What do we feel that we lost a unique opportunity? Yes, for sure. Because we made efforts and sacrifices, because all the stress that we and our families endure came to nothing. Because we knew the quality of what we did (when a group of people get together and raise the money, it's to buy the materials and put everything together themselves).

A missed opportunity because although it could be repaired quickly, by the time we were done the weather conditions wouldn't let us try until many days later. At the risk of finding the boat as it ended up happening. And it is that the police may take hours to appear before a report of robbery or homicide, but before a sighting of an illegal exit they are super efficient. Only that speed of response to the complaint of a sign painted in honor of a scoundrel is comparable.

Luckily, we are alive, we are lucky to wake up another day, to get up and continue, unfortunately many others are not. However, the blow is hard, there is someone who sold everything in his house and he has to sleep on the floor; there is the one who dropped out of the university and now runs the risk of reprisals because he was an inserted cadet of the FAR, there is the one who borrowed the money and now owes tens of thousands of pesos.

Literally, we find a stone in the way (or several).

I could talk, describe or explain more, but it is obvious that it would not be prudent, not from here at least. Those who should go to jail are not those who try to leave a place they feel they do not belong and where they are not accommodated, they are the ones who do not give space and appropriate a nation that should belong to everyone.

If at any time a Cuban government official comes and questions me about this post, I will say that it came from my imagination, it is a fictional story. Although I know that you, the Cuban who reads me, I know that you don't need to ask me.

**Originaly posted by me on https://ecency.com/hive-10053/@yecier/migracion-en-cuba-los-balseros