My name is Connie.
I escaped from Cuba when I was
10 years old in 1994.
I will tell you a story of how I escaped.
My parents and I, the three of us, decided to
escape because Cuba, at that time, was staunchly
Communist which they still are today.
But in 1994, we had a very limited supply of food.
We used what was similar to food stamps, but it was
actually more like a notebook that showed how
many people lived in a house.
There were 3 of us.
It meant that a whole body of chicken had to be split
lasting one month for the family.
There were only 6 eggs the family was limited to and
even with bread, depending on how many people, we
could get 3 slices PER day.
If I wanted more like 2-3 slices of my own,
I couldn't.
That means 1 slice today then go back
to pick up 3 more.
3 slices each day.
Really AWFUL.
That's why my parents decided to escape to ensure
freedom for me and my future.
I lived in Havana in the east side.
Headed south, we boarded a bus and
picked up a bunch of others.
It looked like a school bus.
We traveled to the southern end of Cuba by the water.
We suddenly stopped and couldn't go any
further because it had become so muddy.
I think it had rained so much
it caused flooding.
We were forced to get off the bus and we all had to
walk towards the ocean in a horizontal line until,
somehow, someone fell into a hole.
We couldn't keep doing it this way so we formed a
vertical line to make sure nobody would get hurt.
The person in the front had a long pole that was used
to poke at the ground ahead to make sure it was safe
enough to walk across.
We walked ALL the way to the ocean.
There was an oncoming boat and
onboard was a team working with us by using flashlights.
When we got a signal, another small boat, a
rowboat, came up to us.
The children were the first to board then the women.
Men were last to board.
I was actually not with my parents in the midst of the
chaos because there were 2, 3 routes towards
the belly of the boat.
I had to bear with it and stay hidden because we're
trying to escape from Cuba before the cops could seize us.
We could go to jail for that.
We were terrified, not knowing what
to do amongst strangers.
We endured overnight until the morning when, thank
god, my father came and found me and pulled me into
another room where I was reunited with the family.
The boat actually took 6 days...we ate in that boat
for 6 days. How?
There was 64 of us onboard including children and a
woman who was pregnant.
With all of us grouped together, you can imagine
the limited supply of food.
We ate bread dressed in oil and salt...to add flavor.
As for water, we couldn't drink straight from the
dirty ocean water.
We would have to boil it, but
we didn't have that ability.
It was terrible and a torture.
The first day wasn't bad and so was the 2nd and 3rd day.
After the 3rd day, it was REALLY bad.
We were starving, and our supplies were scarce
because we didn't expect it to take 6 days to arrive.
It was a pretty few miles away from the Cayman
Islands when we were stranded.
We waved for help hoping to get the
attention of the passersby.
Someone, seems like they were vacationing and
swimming, saw us and called the Cayman Islands
police who found us.
After coming out to us, they seemed to realize that
we were from Cuba.
They took us to a detention camp, it wasn't actually
like a prison, in order to protect us.
We didn't have any paperwork.
We were in custody until they could identify who we
were and where exactly we were from.
We stayed there for 1 month.
We slept in what looked like military style tents.
Somehow we found out we had family there
(in the United States)... we reached out.
Luckily, my family...my uncle, flew to the Cayman
Islands...He visited us to make sure everyone
was okay then found a man who owned a
touring business and made arrangements for another
"escape" so we could come here.
It was actually not free and cost $1,500 per person.
My family (uncle) paid to support us.
After a month, we finally underwent another escape.
It took about 6 days.
Another trip, but this time, to the Key West.
We were again detained by the cops, this time they
were from the United States.
We endured another process of paperwork.
Somehow I got into touch with some of my family who
finally picked us up and brought us here to Miami.
These are my children.
Their father is a CODA.
I met him when I was little in Cuba.
Somehow he ended up here like I did.
I bumped into him through work.
It was ironic.
I married their father and have known him since we
were little in Cuba.
And I want to thank my parents who worked to bring
me here to America.
Captioned by DPAN www.dpan.tv