Yes, my parents used to pronounce “béisbol” like the legendary Chico Escuela.

It’s “Good Friday” so my late Cuban mother would be happy if I abstained from arguing about politics today and share some memories of Easter 1965, or, our first one here in the U.S.

It was indeed a welcome sight to see the first signs of spring after heavy snowstorms in February and January.  Yes, that first winter away from the tropics was hard, especially for my father who walked two blocks to catch the bus every morning.

It was also a time for a few cultural adjustments for this Cuban kid, embracing his new homeland. We came from a very traditional Spanish Easter culture. We called it “Semana Santa” or Holy Week to start with.Before Castro outlawed religious celebrations and shut down the press, Cubans generally celebrated the very Catholic Easter. 

It was a very Spanish country, as most Cubans of my generation have grandparents who moved to the island from Spain from the 1850s to the first half of the 20th century. These Spanish immigrants brought Catholicism and very traditional Christmas and Easter customs. Many of the small merchants were also Spanish immigrants and you could see their traditions in the storefront decorations.