Across So Many Seas: Chapters 34-40

“That’s too bad! I get to see Rolando a lot. But I was worried we wouldn’t be able to have our fiesta tonight. The rebels want us to believe in the revolution, not God and the saints. But we think we can support the revolution and still hold on to our customs.”

We sit on the balcony, waiting for Papá to return from his prayers, and Mamá turns away wistfully and looks out to the sea as if the sea could give her the answer.

On Friday, while I was attending to a customer at the shoe store, the militiamen came and told my boss that he’d have to turn in the key to his store by the end of the week.

Mamá and I remain silent, even though I’d like to ask what they think is wrong with promoting literacy.

Softly, she murmurs, “I received a letter from my sisters the other day with some sad news. My beloved mother, my Mima, has left the world. She died in Turkey.”

Teresita’s father, Carlos, suddenly emerges from the building.

“He’s escorting me to the Parque Central. Now he can escort the two of us!”

“Please, Papá. I’m not doing anything wrong. I just want to teach people in the countryside how to read and write. Haven’t you always encouraged me to study?”

“You go home right now, Alegra. Do you hear me? I don’t want you taking part in that campaign. Fidel Castro and the rebels want to indoctrinate you, turn all of you children against your parents. Then they’ll send you to Russia, and we’ll never see you again!”

As I gaze out the window from my seat next to Teresita, I feel my heart beating with excitement and a tinge of fear.

I’ve never been around so many exuberant young people of so many different backgrounds squeezed together.

When the caravan of buses pulls up at Varadero Beach, all of us are delirious with joy.

They used to come in droves before the triumph of the revolution.

“¡Muy bien, muy bien!” they say, glad to see so much enthusiasm for the revolution.

“You’re both very sweet. We’re glad to have such dedicated young revolutionaries among us. I’ll keep an eye on you and make sure you stay together and don’t get sent too deep into the countryside. If you need anything, my name is Carmen.”

And they give us another book, Venceremos, a primer for the students.

We receive pencils for our students and a satchel to carry our things.

Holding up our books, we fulfill our goal: bring literacy to all of Cuba.

“There would not have been a revolution if there had not been so much injustice against our people! The revolution was a necessity!”

“We have decided to eliminate illiteracy in Cuba during this year. We know it is a difficult task. More than a million people over ten years of age do not know how to read and write. They must be helped! They must be persuaded that they can study. There can be no progress without education!”

He keeps talking, and I listen attentively at first, but after a while it’s hard to concentrate with the sun scorching the top of my head.

Carmen rushes over to us with a bouquet of orchids.

Then he goes on to say, “But any traitors who want to bring down our revolution are gusanos. We don’t need any of those worms here on our beautiful island, do we?”

“You two were born on an island, surrounded by the sea on all sides, and you don’t know how to swim? We’ll have to change that. Follow me. We’ll wade in slowly, and then I’ll teach you how to float. The water is nice and calm today.”

Carmen tells us to turn onto our stomachs, and she holds our bellies up in the water as we make our first efforts to kick our feet and propel ourselves forward with our arms.