In the 1980s, under Lieutenant. Colonel Mengistu Haile-Mariam, the Ethiopian government decided to send four thousand Ethiopian children to Cuba where they were expected to be educated. Cuba, an ally of Ethiopia in the Ethio-Somali war, had offered to provide a home for war orphans. Photographer Aida Muluneh is currently filming a documentary, The Unhealing Wound, about their lives in Cuba. Tadias interviewed her about the film this summer.
: Photo: Ethiopian Teenagers in Cuba (Courtesey Tadias Magazine)
TADIAS: How did you become interested in the “Ethio-Cuban” story?
I went to a group photo exhibit in Havana in 2003 and I had heard about the Ethiopian students that went to Cuba. So when I went there, I looked for them and met 30 of them or so. They had been there for 20 odd years. I went back in 2004 to start doing interviews and shot for 10 days, but I wasn’t prepared for the stories that I heard of what they had endured. I was shocked.
They don’t qualify for refugee status. The Ethiopian government says that they can go back anytime, but there is no incentive because they have nothing to go back to. A lot of them were in Hitsan Amba (an orphanage) [before they went to Cuba]. There were kids that were orphans and others whose parents—whose fathers or mothers—fought in the Ethio-Somali war. A lot of the ones that are in Cuba came from the “geTer” (countryside or rural area) and don’t know how they can track down their families in the countryside. Over the years, they’ve lost touch.
Basically when I did the interviews, the intention was to help them get out. We’ve been working with Ethiopian Community Development Council and trying to find ways to do that. It’s a long process, a long road.
I’m also trying to get a full perspective of what happened. Some are living in the U.S. and elsewhere. I’m trying to find out what the cultural retention is when they left home so young. The Ethiopian community seems to have a strong identity. These kids left when they were 5 to 13 years old. One of the interesting things was that they still speak Amharic. Some of them speak broken Amharic, but others speak it very well. So, one part of [the story] are the ones that are stuck in Cuba, but the other side are those who live elsewhere. And that’s obviously a different perspective.
TADIAS: This was a coordinated effort between the Cuban and Ethiopian governments. What efforts did Cuba make to help Ethiopian immigrants adjust to Cuba?
Everything was set up. Cuba has been supportive within their own means. They built a school just for the Ethiopians initially, then other Africans were also educated there. When you go to Cuba, though, they still speak Amharic and are still tied to Ethiopia.
For the most part, they don’t have children and are not married, mainly because they’ve been waiting to leave. It puts you in an awkward situation. You’re thinking “I’m not sustaining a living for myself”… they haven’t settled down or put down roots.
Only a few have gotten married or are in relationships where they have children.
They’re living on the strings of hope. Some of them have been continuously waiting for papers for seven years. They still have their Ethiopian passports.
TADIAS: Although The Unhealing Wound focuses on those Ethio-Cubans still in Cuba, I understand there have been a number who have managed to leave Cuba and live elsewhere. When did they leave and where do they live now?
The Special Period [after the collapse of the Soviet block] was the primary period when they left. Many went to Spain because it is Spanish speaking and they were able to get visas. There are others in England, a lot in the DC area, some in Brazil, a few in Holland.
Some of them have gone back to Ethiopia. There are two types of everything, as you know. Those that went back during the Communist period, the government had sent them with the intention of having them trained in a certain field and coming back to work. Those that returned in the Communist years, they were able to find jobs.
The flip side is that those that didn’t find work have become translators or have some other type of menial work. I know one person who is a successful doctor, the head of a clinic. The experience varies.
TADIAS: Is there a network of Ethio-Cubans abroad that help others still in Cuba to immigrate to other countries?
They do keep in touch with each other. There is a network, once people get to another country. But before getting out of Cuba, it’s every man for himself.
TADIAS: What kind of relationship do Ethio-Cubans have with Cuba? Do they identify in any way as Cuban?
They are mainly tied to the Ethiopian identity but hold Cuba in a special place in their hearts. Nobody [that I’ve spoken to] has talked negatively about Cuba. But when they arrived as children, they wanted to go back to Ethiopia, some of them wanted to go back to their families.
TADIAS: You mentioned that many Ethio-Cubans faced challenges in adjusting to their new environment when they moved to Cuba. What were some of those challenges?
The first problem that they had was I guess what you could call environmental conditioning. The temperature was a big issue. They were moving from Ethiopia to this island. The second was the food. The food in Cuba had a lot of pork, which of course we [Ethiopians] don’t eat. They couldn’t get used to the food; you can imagine what a change it was from eating injera.
Then, of course, language was an issue. And homesickness. There was a group that still had mothers and brothers and sisters and their hope was to return to Ethiopia to provide them with a better life. It was psychologically painful to come to the realization that they could not go back. You have to look at the situation from the perspective of a nine-year old to understand.
Photo: Ethiopians in Cuba (Courtesey Tadias Magazine & Aida Muluneh)
TADIAS: You left Ethiopia as a childas well. Is there a relationship between your interest in the Ethiopian students in Cuba and your own experience?
There was definitely a relationship to my life. I went to boarding school in Cyprus because my family was living in Yemen. I don’t know how things are now, but then there was no opportunity for education [in Ethiopia]. One of the things that attracted me to the story was that I could relate to the concept of going to another country and living there. You don’t know the language, you’re still learning, in a sense. For me, the time period [of departure] was the same. I left home when I was 5. When I first saw [the Ethio-Cubans], I had been out for 23 years. But there are a lot of things that I couldn’t relate to. I can’t say I know exactly how they feel.
TADIAS: Does the Ethio-Cuban story fit into the themes that you address in your photography work?
The one theme that I tend to migrate toward is what it means to be an Ethiopian in the Diaspora. These are the things that I feel are not explored enough. We don’t easily let go of our culture and our history. My son was born here [in the United States], but he relates to the Ethiopian identity as well. There’s a big fascination with Ethiopia—from Haile Selassie to reggae—but there isn’t a deeper understanding of Ethiopian culture. Anywhere you go, you’ll find an Ethiopian living there and making a good life. How do we survive in every part of the world?
Also, a lot of the photos that I take are of women. I don’t go out thinking that I’m going to address these themes, but that’s what happens.
TADIAS: What is the current status of the film?
AIDA: We are hoping to release the film in the spring of 2008. I am currently in the process of collecting more interviews and archival materials to complete the story. Most recently “The Unhealing Wound” received fiscal sponsorship from IFP, an organization that is in the forefront of providing support for independent filmmakers to cultivate their artistic endeavors.

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