Exchange students learn all sorts of lessons in Cuba
By DAVID ABEL
Special to The Herald
HAVANA -- Moments before the entourage of black Mercedes-Benzes rolled
into the University of Havana and the swarm of large men with earpieces
and dark
glasses trooped through campus, someone ran into Cat Linenberger's classroom
shouting, ``Fidel! Fidel!''
The 20-year-old foreign exchange student from St. Petersburg wasn't sure
what
was happening. It was her second day in Cuba.
Then a burst of applause rang out and she saw a bearded old man in an
olive-green uniform emerge from one of the cars. She recognized him instantly
--
President Fidel Castro.
``I was so close I could have dropped my textbook on his head,'' said
Linenberger, who confessed to joining in the adulation for the Cuban leader.
``People were going nuts for him. I couldn't believe it. This definitely
wasn't in our
syllabus.''
Linenberger is one of more than 100 U.S. students studying this year with
American universities licensed by the U.S. Treasury Department to offer
classes in
Cuba. She came to Havana with a study program sponsored by Tulane University.
A few years ago, the Latin American studies major, who is writing her thesis
on
Castro, probably would have had to settle for consulting books and interviewing
sources over the phone to complete her research. The 36-year-old U.S. embargo
prohibits Americans from traveling to Cuba without a license.
Similar programs
But, since the law was amended in 1995 to allow for foreign exchange programs,
more than a dozen American universities have arranged programs in Cuba,
according to Beth Weaver, a spokeswoman of the Treasury Department's Office
of Foreign Assets Control. So far, no Cuban students study at U.S. universities.
This summer at least a half-dozen universities held classes in Havana,
including the
State University of New York at Buffalo, Wake Forest and St. Mary's University
in San Antonio.
Other U.S. schools with programs in Cuba include Harvard, Johns Hopkins
and
Hampshire College of Amherst, Mass.
Diane Steffan, 25, a graduate student in bilingual education at Buffalo,
said her
Cuban-born mother was strongly opposed to having her daughter spending
dollars
in a country she had been forced to leave more than 30 years ago.
``She was like, `No way,' '' Steffan said. ``Then she eased up. And eventually
she
got excited for me to bring back memories.''
`The spy'
Enduring tensions have made studying in Cuba different from other countries.
Buffalo students are often accompanied around the capital and joined in
class by a
man from the Interior Ministry who calls himself Doug. They call him ``the
spy.''
The chummy official keeps tabs on what students ask and what the professor
says.
``It's just a way for them to keep an eye on us,'' said Jose Buscaglia,
a Buffalo
professor teaching classes on architecture and history to 33 students.
``I guess
they think some of the students might be working for the CIA.''
Firsthand experiences are not all positive. Mike Milch, 20, a politics
major at New
York University, learned about the surge in petty crime since the Cuban
economy
nose-dived in the early 1990s after the fall of the Soviet Union. The 10-speed
bicycle he brought from home was stolen on his second day in Havana. He
brushed it off as the drastic measures impoverished people are driven to.
What he
couldn't dismiss was all the hustling.
``Everywhere you go, someone's trying to sell you something,'' Milch said.
``They
treat you like you're a walking dollar. It's hard not to feel resentment.''
Cash needs
The desire for cash is one of the main reasons Cuba has been eager to accept
American students and why the United States has been reluctant to let them
go,
said Jerry Poyo, a history professor in Havana with 16 students from St.
Mary's
University. The travel licenses granted by the Treasury Department bar
students
and professors from spending more than $100 a day in Cuba.
Yet St. Mary's students still had time to browse for trinkets in a
government-sponsored tourist zone during their packed two weeks on the
island,
which included touring an AIDS sanatorium, meeting members of the National
Assembly and debating freedom of the press with Cuban journalists.
``This is not about spending or not spending money,'' said Poyo, while
a few of his
students haggled with one of many vendors on Old Havana's recently restored
Plaza de Armas. ``It's about interaction, learning and getting beyond the
conflict
people always read about.''
Sipping bottled water on the stoop of one of the University of Havana's
many
dilapidated buildings, Nicolle Ugarriza, 26, of Miami Beach, thought about
what
she might have done if she had met Castro. The first-generation Cuban American
said she wasn't sure how she would react. Her family wouldn't be thrilled,
she said.
``At home everyone has a programmed reaction,'' Ugarriza said. ``But underneath
that there is a tremendous curiosity. I've heard about Cuba forever. So
it was time
for me to experience it myself.''