Jose's Childhood

The other night I asked Jose to tell me about his childhood.

Jose is 6 months younger than me, meaning he grew up during Cuba's 'Special Period', which was the worst post-revolutionary economic period in the country's history. After the Iron Curtain fell, Cuba nearly went right down with it. The economic support Cuba had been relying upon from Russia was pulled out from under them, and what was left was a severely dysfunctional economic system that is still struggling to function today.

During the Special Period, many people were literally starving, and people tell me the overall mood was similar to what you might imagine The Great Depression was like.

I asked Jose if he remembers that time, when there were rolling blackouts every day, and food was scarce.

"Sure, I mean I have some memories of the lights being shut off...but in general, being a kid was the best way to pass through that period. For adults it was harder, they suffered more...for me, put a plate of some eggs and rice in front of me and it was good. For me it was the same, I enjoyed my childhood."

Jose maintains that he has only fond memories of his childhood, that it was nothing traumatic. I noticed that he always reiterated that point after telling me a sad story. Most of Jose's childhood memories have to do with his family. He speaks a lot about his father, who divorced his mom when he was 6 months old.

"I remember sometimes visiting my dad at his house and returning crying because I felt so bad for him. He had no job, he didn't seem to have anyone..."

Still, Jose admits he never had a good relationship with his father.

"He was never affectionate with me. I never remember going to the beach with him, or the park. Very few times I went out with him. He was traumatized because his first wife, his true love, died before I was born. And also because that's just his character--dry, cold. It's different with my older brother because he's the son of the woman who died. So he feels badly for him..."

"My mom tells this story that my dad would never come to pick me up at kindergarden. One time, he had a girlfriend with a kid in my class and he came to pick up that kid with her. My mom says he didn't say hi to me or anything and then my parents got in a fight right there. My mom asked him, 'Why can you pick up this boy but not your own son?'"

"Now I think he feels guilty. He helps me in certain ways, giving me space to work, to paint, helping me with money sometimes. I don't feel bad about it though, it's his internal issues, and I don't feel like they affected me. My mom was always so much of a mom. I never felt the need to have anyone else occupying that space. Really, I didn't."

Jose also remembers his grandmother fondly.

"My mother was like the Pope, and my grandmother was like God. My grandmother had a strong character, she would say, 'you have to do this', or you don't eat. But she would surprise me too. Like one time a boy threw a rock at a neighbor's roof and it broke a part of it. I was afraid she might think it was me, but instead she said, come on, let's go inside so they know it wasn't us. And then, when the angry neighbor came outside, she pretended not to know anything about it. She was staring at the ceiling, all innocent, like a kid. But yes, sometimes she could be violent with me."

Jose's grandmother left for the States when he was 13.

"I felt guilty later because I didn't want to go to the airport to say goodbye. I don't know why I didn't want to go. After that, I would dream of my grandmother every night. I would dream that she was still at her house. And I would pass by and there she would be on the patio, getting fresh air, sitting in her chair. And I'd wake up crying."

A few years before his grandmother and aunt left for the States, his mom started getting involved with Nicholas. NIcholas was Jose's stepfather for awhile, and still enters and exits the family's life every 6 months or so. Nicholas left for the States a few years back, but continues to support Jose's mom and the son he had with her. He exists in a sort of grey area: their only lifeline, but no father figure. He's a harsh man, who's hard on Jose and often reminds him that being an artist will never make him any money, especially in the States. In the month I've been here, Nicholas has been visiting Cuba as well, but I've never seen him in the house.

Still, Jose remembers Nicholas's arrival when he was 8-years-old fondly. They moved to Guanabacoa, a neighboring municipality where Nicholas is from.

"It was good, I didn't know anyone and got to meet new people, relate more with nature, animals. I was 8, so it was a great process of discovery. There were always parties, lots of people on the weekends. I fell in love for the first time too. With a set of fraternal twins. I fell in love with both of them, but I was never with either of them. I always fell in love a lot."

Jose's way of looking at the world remains mostly positive. As long as there are friends around him and women to fall in love with, he doesn't see the world as a bad place. In a few years, his mom and younger brother will leave for the States. Jose believes he'll be able to leave too, perhaps through his art. He'd like to travel the world, live abroad a few years. But Cuba, he maintains, will always be his home.