April 2005 Mission Trip to Cuba

A formal partnership between the Chicago Presbytery and the Presbytery of Havana began in 1998, and through this Cuba Network, Fourth Church has been linked as a sister church with the First Presbyterian Church of Havana. Members of Fourth Church have participated in four trips to Cuba and have continued to build relationships since 2000.

On April 16, 2005, sixteen members and friends of Fourth Church left for an eight-day trip to Cuba. Participants in this trip learned about the Cuban culture, sampled local cuisine, and listened to beautiful music. They also learned about the difficulties the Cuban church has faced during the past 40 years and heard about exciting new programs and projects of the First Presbyterian Church of Havana. There were many opportunities to interact with members and staff of First Havana as well as Havana residents as the group built and strengthened relationships.

Here they share their daily experiences in pictures and words and invite us to join them in their journey.

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Mission Trip Participants

Carol Abernethy
Erin Bennett
Rita Bennett
Benjamin Carlisle
Adriana Chmiel
Lisa Davis
Henry Feldman
Joseph Feldman
Allison Hutchison
Andrew Pyle
Christopher Swade
Jacqueline Taylor
Harvey Van Dam
Judy Ann Van Dam

Donna Gray
Marc Nelson

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Cuba Journal

| April 15 | April 16 and 17 | April 18 | April 19 and 20 | April 21 | April 22 | April 23: Final Reflections |

Friday, April 15

Enroute to Havana
Mark Nelson

As our plane took off from Chicago, the thoughts and pressure of our life in Chicago slowly began to slip away. Many of us had hectic weeks preparing to leave our work lives behind during our mission trip to Cuba. This is the fifth trip from Fourth Presbyterian Church to the First Presbyterian Church of Havana. We have a strong partnership. In addition to the five trips, both John Buchanan and Joanna Adams have preached at First Presbyterian, and the pastor of First Presbyterian, the Reverend Hector Mendez, has preached at Fourth Church. There are a lot of similarities between our churches. We are both downtown churches that serve the unique needs of the neighborhoods nearby with strong mission and outreach programs. We even share the same mission: to be a light in our respective cities.

I was part of the first trip in 2000, so this is a return trip for me. All of the other participants are first time visitors to Cuba. Led by the Reverend Donna Gray and myself, our band of 16 is a diverse group ranging in age from ten to 70 years old. We have one person who is of Cuban decent who has never visited Cuba nor seen her Cuban relatives, a father-son and a mother-daughter combination, a very able blind woman, several mission trip “regulars,” and several first time mission trip participants. We are full of anticipation and ready to experience the Cuban culture, get a glimpse inside a communist country, and make new friends with our brothers and sisters in Christ at First Presbyterian.

I often say that mission trips have a way of just happening. For all the planning, the experiences evolve. This journal will attempt to highlight some of those experiences and give you a flavor for our trip.

Saturday, April 16 and Sunday, April 17

The First Two Days
Lisa Davis

As we flew over Cuba, my first thoughts focused on how incredibly close Cuba is to the U.S. It was less than an hour flight and yet so inaccessible. It is almost impossible to be allowed to visit this country and it will only get harder to do so as the Bush Administration continues to deny more visas. I feel very fortunate to be on this trip, a trip that few people get to take. I wonder what lays ahead––what friends we will make, what the country’s political situation will be like, and how devastating a situation the country’s financial system will be in. I am entering a place I know so little about. A place so foreign.

Our first steps off of the airplane are greeted with a warm, heavy breeze. In fact, that breeze will be with us all week. The island seems to be in a constant state of windiness. We enter the airport, which is our first reminder that we are in a communist state, a state stuck in time (about 1940 to be exact). The airport is grey and stoic, yet very noisy and crowded. Miamians on our flight try to push past us in order to be first in the immigration line. While being pushed is not pleasant, I can’t blame them. On the other side of the immigration doors family and friends are waiting. I envision reunions of long-lost family members, maybe some who are meeting each other for the visit time. Our wait in the airport lasts about three hours as we wait for our entry visas to be delivered. Patience will have to be practiced on this trip! Finally I make my way up to the immigration guard. Not much is said. The guard examines my face closely to make sure that it matches my passport, and then a door is opened, and I make my first steps into Cuba.

There among the crowds of people stands one of the most gentle and comforting men I have ever seen, Hector Mendez, pastor of the First Presbyterian Church in Havana. He is an instant friend, or at least that is how he makes me feel. Louise, our driver, is the next person I meet. I feel instantly comfortable with Louise. He is unpretentious, always smiling. A good man.

The ride from the airport to the church is fascinating. There are no real signs of Fidel, just billboards promoting a man named Che, Fidel’s counterpart in the revolution. In some ways Fidel seems humble. There really are no huge pictures of him posted anywhere.

We arrive at the First Presbyterian Church of Havana. It is a modest place, accented with beautiful stain glasses and colorful and warm people. Lunch is served, and many of us are excited to try Cuban black beans and white rice. I’m not sure how long that excitement will last. It will be black beans and rice for almost every meal! Oswaldo, our interrupter, arrives. He is a fine Christian man with a strong personality and an unyielding heart for God. Oswaldo takes us on a nice tour of Old Havana, a touristy area that doesn’t feel too touristy, as there are no signs of any Americans. I love that. I love being so removed from America. No Starbucks. No McDonalds. Thank goodness! Nonetheless, signs of capitalism prevail. There are street vendors and clowns everywhere, all trying to make a buck.

All I want is a mojito and some salsa music, but that will come in time. A quick stop by the Floridrita, Hemingway’s watering hole for his famed Daiquiri.

We head back to the church for dinner (more beans and rice), and then off to watch a part of Cuba’s history, the cannon shot. It is done every night at 9:00 p.m. to signify Cuba’s victory over Spanish rule. I am quickly realizing that Cuba is very proud of its history. Deservingly so. We find out that we are in Cuba on the anniversary of the Bay of Pigs, which Cuba calls a victory, and the NSA calls a failure because JFK “bailed out” of the effort at the last minute. I have a feeling that in regards to Cuban history and politics, we will never really get the true story; both sides have their own propaganda and agendas.

On Sunday morning we enjoy a gorgeous church service that makes most of us cry. The congregation at First Havana Presbyterian is so incredibly gracious, gentle, and kind. I feel like I could walk up to any one of them and be greeted with the love of a thousands mothers. They are not pretentious. They just have a lot of love for God and a lot of kindness and appreciation towards our visit. They seem to love meeting us. The choir is stunning. Their music brings tears to my eyes. Hector’s sermon is passionate and heartfelt.

We have lunch at the church and then head off to the beach! Emerald blue waters, palm trees, and that warm, heavy breeze. It’s heaven on earth. We go back to the church to eat. Well-rested from last night’s sleep, we head out for some salsa music. I never want to leave.

Monday, April 18

Early Reflections
Benjamin Carlisle

There are few times in our lives when we are able to step outside of our natural environment and experience something that will alter the way in which we view our lives. The first two days of my visit to Cuba have done this to me. In Chicago, my Christian life plays out in convenient ways, on MY time. I go to church on Sundays and then fill the rest of my week with obligations––work, school, errands, social outings, etc. Though my faith is never far from the surface, it is not something I take much time to reflect upon. Christians in Cuba are different. Everyday is Sunday. Everyday, due to economic, political, and cultural struggles, is a day they thank God for the basic necessities they have. The Cuban Christian way of life was obvious from the moment we entered Primera Iglesia Presbiteriana Reformada in Havana, Cuba lead by the Reverend Hector Mendez. These are people who thank and seek God in everything they do. Simple amenities are a blessing. One thing that I will always remember about my time is Havana is that though daily life is a struggle, the people of Primera Ingleses Presbiteriana Reformada are the most gracious, friendly, beautiful people I have ever met. They are so willing to share and give what limited resources they do have to their American friends. Already this has been truly a life-altering experience.

Tuesday, April 19 and Wednesday, April 20

Experiencing Life in Cuba

Tuesday and Wednesday were filled with several unique activities, including a trip to the Museum of the Revolution, a fascinating portrayal of the Cuban Revolution and it’s historical context, a trip to the U.S. Interest Office, a worship service, and a Cuban baseball game. (When we asked on Saturday if we could see a baseball game, little did we know we would actually have one of our members play!) The following are brief descriptions of the activities of these two days.


A Backyard Connection
Mark Nelson

On Tuesday night, we traveled to Cojimar, a small seaside city near Havana where Hemingway wrote “The Old Man and the Sea.” First Presbyterian has a mission church there. As they don’t have a building (the Cuban government will not approve the building project), they meet in the back yard of a member’s home. Donna Gray and I were asked to share a few words. I shared a memory of an experience from my trip in 2000. It was shortly after Elian Gonzalez had been returned home to Cuba, and we were worshiping in this same space. One of the members got up and said that the fact that despite our governmental differences, we were able to bridge those differences and share together in worship was truly a representation of God’s spirit in action. I noted that for me, this place embodied the spirit of our visit––that we are all part of the body of Christ. We closed the service with a prayer for peace in the world, a fitting example of our love for those separated by different cultures and different governments.

Cuban-American Relations
Joe Feldman

Our Tuesday visit to the American Interest Section showcased the complexities of life in Cuba, as well as Cuban-American relations.

The Interest Section serves as a non-embassy embassy here, and the agreed-upon rules prohibit flying the American flag. Richard Beers, Senior Counsel Officer, met with our group to answer our questions and to explain our government’s policy toward Cuba. We shared briefing sessions with another group, a group that had come to the Interest Section more to talk than to listen. Their questions probed many aspects of our government’s policies toward Cuba, the inconsistencies, the failure to adapt, the unfairness, and the insensitivity. The many complexities and contradictions that are Cuba were tabled with the implication that simple solutions were available and apparent.

While Beers commanded us to write our Congressman and petition our government since we live in a democracy with free elections, it left an unsatisfying feeling that this act, too, would not address the urgent and complex needs of the many people we have met during our brief stay here.


A Cuban Baseball Game!
Henry Feldman (Age 10)

Editor’s Note: Following up on our request to see a “real” Cuban baseball game, Hector Mendez arranged for the baseball team sponsored by First Presbyterian Havana to play an exhibition game. It is a team comprised of young Cuban children, and for one a day, an American. Henry Feldman shares his experience.

At the baseball game, we arrived and found out that they were still preparing the field. We met the team and I was leased a uniform. The first two batters hit home runs, so we took a 2-0 lead. The next batter stuck out. The next got a single. The next boy grounded out. The boy who got the single got caught stealing. Nonetheless, we held them to a 2-0 lead for our defensive term.

I didn’t play the first two innings. Finally, I got to play. I grounded out! In their next at bat the other team scored two runs to tie it 2-2. We got nothing the next inning, and they got a run. We held them there the next inning, and I threw a guy out.

The score remained 3-2 the rest of the game until the ninth inning. The other team had the bases loaded with their best hitter at bat. He hit it. I missed it by an inch, and it went soaring in the outfield! Three kids scored and the hitter ended up on third. We scored one in the bottom of the inning, but it didn’t matter. We lost. The final score was 6-3.

Thursday, April 21

A Day to Remember
Carol Abernathy

What a day!

Our first stop was at the Partagas Cigar Factory where we were able to see the cigar making process firsthand. It was fascinating to see the nimble fingers packing and rolling and the artistry of gluing the end piece on so smoothly. Literature and magazines are read to the workers to while away the hours, two hours in the morning and two in the afternoon. As the culmination of a long process, each cigar is proudly banded with a special name.

We then rode to the Miramar section, a beautiful boulevard with a center median and lovely trees. The wealthiest area of Havana’s days of yore, the mansions are now used by diplomats, embassies, and banks. The private clubs lining the streets now belong to various trade unions.

Our destination was Marina Hemingway, a complex that is accessible only by foreign boaters as a vacation playground. It had a lovely pool and various town homes and apartments for its guests. In homage to its namesake, there was a sculpture of the Old Man and the Sea. Directly across the street as we exited was the Communist School.

Pastor Omar Maren from Santa Clara joined us at lunch. A smiling and gentle young man, I can see how inspiring he must be to his parishioners. His inner love is evident. And oh, what a rich voice!

During the afternoon, several in the group went to the Museum of Fine Arts. A smaller group journeyed 7 miles to the small village of San Francisco de Paula. It was here at Finca Vigia that Hemingway lived from 1939 to 1960. The mansion is largely as Hemingway left it. Among his 9,000 books are the Harvard Classics, a complete set of Mark Twain, as well as collected works of Benito Perez Galdos. His hunting trophies adorn the walls.

An interesting side note was that our guide’s name was Tatiana. Impressed with her impeccable Spanish, I asked how long she had lived in Cuba. She laughed and commented that she indeed was Cuban, born in 1959. At that time, many Cubans gave their children Russian names, so Boris and Mikhail are popular names too.

We then stopped in Cojimar, the little fishing village Hemingway often visited and which he used as the setting for “The Old Man and the Sea.” Rather than have a Cristal beer in his favorite local bar, La Terraza, we sat on the waterfront, enjoying the company of our interpreter and guides, Osvaldo and Mariana. I silently wished that our worlds were not so far apart.

Our next stop was one of the highlights of my trip. In addition to Osvaldo’s primary job as teaching English to special interest groups, he also teaches part-time in a Dominican church. The students are carefully selected for their desire to learn English, and their commitment was evident when we saw them. The classroom is in a basement of the church complex and has approximately 14 students, ranging in age from 18 to 37. Each student introduced himself and mentioned his age and profession. The professions varied from biochemists to nurses to actresses. Upon leaving they gave us a Cuban goodbye, a kiss on the cheek from each one. Moments like these are the ones I take away . . . kindness, warmth, and a desire to better oneself. If only our governments could forge a bridge of understanding that we, as citizens of our own countries, can do so easily.

This evening the Youth Choir presented a musical program in the sanctuary. The choir members range in age from 17 to 21 and their voices are absolutely glorious. I didn’t want the singing to end! I will long hear their voices and see their sweet faces in my mind.

Following the program, many of us ventured out once again. So little time and so much to do! We went to Hotel Inglaterra, a fine example of colonial architecture, and went to the top floor. The musical group was playing traditional tunes and two couples were dancing the night away. In the background were the ornate and flamboyant Gran Teatro and the beautifully illuminated Capitol building, only re-illuminated one week ago after being dark for decades. A beautiful sight indeed.

Ending the evening in the company of my special new friends from America and engaging in conversation and enjoying a special bond with Osvaldo, Mariana, and Omar all added up, in my estimation, to a memorable, perfect day . . . up to that moment.

This day was, however, tempered by the reality of Cuban life when, after a beautiful evening enjoying the sights and sounds of the city, we were walking home and Omar was abruptly stopped by the police and asked for identification. Instead of happiness and laughter, our silent thoughts at this overt sign of discrimination guided us home.

Friday, April 22

Saying Goodbye to Family
Adriana Chmiel

Friday in Cuba––our last day. A day for decompression and celebration. A long walk in Old Havana took us to museums, photo shops, and some last minute shopping. After a quick meal, we were off to Santa Maria beach, a location that is pristine and calm, untouched by political tension of financial strife.

While the rest of the group prepared for dinner in Havana, I met my family for one last evening together. Before this trip, I only knew stories about my great aunt and cousins. Within a day of my arrival, I was huddled over pictures of my mother as a child and was eating black beans from the same recipe my grandmother uses back home in the U.S. Tonight was an evening of polarity. It started with conversation over how my family would find light bulbs (Fidel Castro announced that Cubans will only be able to use florescent bulbs in an effort to conserve energy). It ended in the elegance of the Hotel Nacional, a five star hotel. An evening that began with black beans and rice ended with mojitos that cost half a Cuban’s monthly salary in a place where my family wouldn’t even be permitted to enter without the invitation of a tourist.

So much to take in, much less accept. I have too much to be thankful for and now realize my overwhelming abundance.

Saturday, April 23

Final Reflections

This trip has been a different mission trip. We did not complete a physical, hands-on project. Instead, this trip was about building relationships and understanding people from a different country and a different culture, yet who are our brothers and sisters in Christ. As we headed back home, several participants on this trip shared some final reflections.

Since returning to the U.S., trying to share my feelings about our trip to Cuba with friends and family has been a fairly unsatisfying experience.

For the few that have been to Cuba, there is an appreciation for the great music, cuisine, Old Havana, propaganda billboards, mojitos, old cars, and the exoticism of the place. Yet our experiences go far beyond any usual travel stories: times with Hector, Osvaldo, and Luis; in the Salud neighborhood, on the ball field, and on the bus; and especially with one another. So I try anyway to share some stories about my experiences. I try to make Cuba seem less mysterious and more like another place that merits our interest, our thoughts, and our visits. I've come to believe deeply that the prospects for peace are dramatically higher when people meet one another so that differences can't be presumed by the unknowing. And so more stories and more hope.

Some of what I expect to remember for a long time: Hector's determination, Erin and Henry riding shotgun in our van, Luis singing La Guantanamera, an afternoon of Cuban little league baseball, moonlit rooftop music and dancing, backyard hospitality in Cojimar, and my new friends at Fourth.

And so, enjoying the experience of our trip to Cuba continues to be a wonderfully satisfying experience. Thank you.

––Joe Feldman

My favorite part of the trip was either dancing, listening to Cuban music, or the baseball game. I know that a lot of people played catch with the team. I played with the "cheerleader" named Lilliana. The music was great and the food was delicious. If I get the chance to go again, I will totally take up that offer.

––Erin Bennett (Age 10)

One week in Cuba. 90 miles from our nation’s border. That’s closer than I live to my own parents, though I couldn’t have been further from home. I got a first-hand glimpse into the Communist world of uncertainty, subtle and not-so-subtle political pressures, prejudices, and lack of resources. Despite their difficult life, the people of our sister church in Havana are full of Christ’s love. They welcomed us into their homes and opened their hearts to us. For seven days we talked together, learned together, danced together, sang, laughed, and cried together, broke bread together, and prayed together. I formed friendships and shared spiritual experiences with members of my own church community that I will treasure always. I am forever changed. One week in Cuba. Thanks be to God.

––Rita Bennett

The concept of family has been a theme for this week. I keep turning over this week. A generation later and thousands of miles divided, I was celebrated and accepted unconditionally by my relatives. Time stood still once again in Cuba, and I was there, laced with family stories and memories of a family before separation. I have been touched with the ability to see family style and family pride and received a gift of creating a new family memory while hearing about old ones.

––Adriana Chmiel

Cuba was a wonderful exciting warm and spiritual trip for me. The Cuban people are so genuinely friendly and seem to cope well with a myriad of what we would deem annoying and personally invasive situations. Despite their somewhat regimented lifestyle, they manage to smile a lot and be gracious and loving. I especially appreciate all the assistance the church group gave me in navigating Havana cobblestone streets and numerous stone stairways. Without all of their help, I would not have been able to "see" and feel the experience of the Cubans and Cuba. Thank you so very much for allowing me this inspiring opportunity.

––Jacquie Taylor

I have had a difficult time reentering the “real” world. My memories rush back in bits and pieces, and I know it will take me a very long time to piece it all together.

One thing for certain, though, is my feeling of affection for each and everyone on this trip. Becoming acquainted with such an interesting and varied group was a highlight of the trip. I had forgotten how much energy ten year olds have. Erin and Henry adapted so very well to a group of adults, and because of them, we got to experience activities we might not have otherwise. Will we ever forget the baseball game or the presentation of medals and flowers to Erin and Henry? Oh, the stories they will have to share!

The many young adults on the trip were equally impressive. All of them exhibited kindness, compassion, tolerance, talent, and a great joie de vivre. If I ever meet their parents, I will be happy to tell them how proud they can justifiably be.

I also can’t help but refer to two special people in particular who, I know, added another dimension to our experience and connected us in an even more intimate way. Adriana’s willingness to share her family experience with us made the trip and our sense of kinship so much more meaningful. And, of course, Jacquie, whose spirit and desire to see everything was an inspiration to all.

The trip has left me with a sense of sadness. It was hard to say goodbye to our many Cuban friends. Their sense of joy and love and grace in the face of hardship is one I shall never forget. I asked Osvaldo what he wanted for his people. He replied that he wanted freedom, but freedom to him must first come through Jesus Christ. When they have attained that freedom, they shall truly be free. He is one of the most genuinely free men I have ever had the honor of meeting.

Looking back on our full, full days of absorbing another culture and its people, living with fifteen other very unique individuals, experiencing the most genuine love from others, eating beans and rice and rice and beans and beans and rice . . . I now know that the experience of this one week in my life is one that I shall hold close to my heart always.

––Carol Abernathy

This was my second trip to Cuba. It was amazing to see how little things have changed. While building projects that were underway five years ago are now finished, life still goes on in much the same way. It is truly a country and an island frozen in time.

I had the unique experience of seeing Omar, a friend with whom I have exchanged emails for the past five years after meeting him on my previous trip. Over the years we have exchanged much of what has gone on in our lives. Seeing him again was an unbelievable experience and one heightened by the fact that we are separated by politics. But hearing his expression that he considers our unique, email friendship to be a blessing from God was a powerful expression of the importance of relationships. And so, I leave Cuba and this trip with an even greater appreciation of the importance of relationship-building experiences like this. In a country that has little to no connection with its neighbor just to the North, connecting in such powerful ways as this is incredibly important. It’s important because it tells them that they have friends and companions that will support them on their journey of faith. It’s important because it tells them someone cares about their plight, about their life, about their struggle. It’s important because it tells us that we are all more similar than different. We are all brothers and sisters in Christ.

We came bearing gifts, financial and otherwise, but the biggest gift may have been the one we received––their love, this new understanding, and life-changing experiences.

––Mark Nelson