CUBAN seamstress Yamidely Cervantes has bought a new sewing machine for the first time in years, plus a refrigerator and a cellphone – all on Russia’s dime.
Her 49-year-old husband Enrique Gonzalez, a struggling bricklayer, left their home in the small town of La Federal on July 19 to fight for the Russian army in Ukraine.
Days later, he wired her part of his signing-on bonus of about 200,000 roubles (RM9,662)) which she received in Cuban pesos, Cervantes said.
That represents a windfall on the economically stricken communist-run island. It’s more than 100 times the average monthly state salary of 4,209 pesos (RM824 in the informal market), according to the national statistics office.
Few places feel the pinch more than La Federal, a community of about 800 people on the outskirts of Havana where one in four residents is unemployed, government data for 2022 shows.
On the 100m dirt road where Cervantes lives, at least three men have left for Russia since June, and another had sold his home in anticipation of going, she said.
“You can count on one hand those who are left,” the 42-year-old said as she surveyed the street from a small terrace where she’d repurposed two broken toilet bowls as flower pots.
“Necessity is what is driving this.”
Reuters traced the stories of those four men, together with more than a dozen other Cubans recruited to go to Russia from districts in and around the capital Havana, ranging from a builder and a shopkeeper to a refinery worker and phone company employee.
Eleven of the men flew to Russia while the other seven got cold feet at the last moment.
News of Cubans ending up in the Russian military hit headlines this month when the Havana government – a longstanding ally of Russia that says it is “not part of the war in Ukraine” – said it had arrested 17 people connected with a human-trafficking ring that lured Cubans to fight for Moscow.
The recruits identified by Reuters volunteered to go to Russia following overtures on social media from a recruiter who identified herself as “Dayana”.
In La Federal, for example, all nine identified recruits signed up to fight in the war.
In Alamar, an eastern Havana suburb, most of the five men signed up for non-fighting roles such as in construction, packaging of provisions and logistics.
Cervantes’ husband Gonzalez, speaking via video call from a Russian military base outside the city of Tula, south of Moscow, said he was one of 119 Cubans training there. When he arrived in Russia, he said, he had signed a contract to work for the military.
“Everyone here knew what they were coming for,” he said, smiling in military garb as he gave a digital phone tour of the camp, ringed by pine trees. “They came for the war.”
Gonzalez said the 119 Cubans were being trained to fight, although it still wasn’t clear where they would be sent.
“I have several friends in Ukraine, and they are in places where bombs are falling but they haven’t actually been in confrontations with Ukrainians,” he added. “Everything is good here, but when we go there, we will be in a war zone.”
The Cuban recruitment activity began weeks after a May decree issued by President Vladimir Putin that allowed foreigners who enlisted with the military on year-long contracts to receive Russian citizenship via a fast-track process, along with their spouses, children and parents.
In La Federal, word of the army work began to spread in June. Offers to join up, shared via Facebook, Instagram and WhatsApp, became the talk of the town, with Dayana named as the contact.
More than two dozen young men interviewed in and around Havana spoke of the scale of the exodus.
Cristian Hernandez, 24, broke into laughter when asked how many people had left the area around La Federal. “A ton of people,” he said. “Almost all of our friends have gone.”
Yoan Viondi, 23, who lives a few-minute bike ride up the road from the main drag, said he knew about 100 men in Villa Maria, the district that includes La Federal, had been recruited for the Russian war effort.
He said a friend gave him the WhatsApp contact for Dayana, a Cuban woman who he said bought plane tickets for recruits.
Dayana was also mentioned as a key contact by most of the recruits and relatives Reuters spoke with.
Viondi wasted no time.
“Hi, good afternoon,” Viondi said to her in a July 21 message. “Please I need information.”
Dayana, who appears in her chat icon as a dark-haired woman in a camouflage cap, responded with contract terms almost instantly. The first line of the message states: “This is a contract with the Russian military by which you receive citizenship.”
The contract was for one year and offered a signing bonus of 195,000 roubles followed by a monthly salary of 200,000 roubles, plus 15 days of vacation after the first six months of work.
“If you’re in agreement, you should just send (a copy of) your passport,” Dayana’s message read.
Within two minutes, Viondi had sent a digital copy of his passport. One hour later, Dayana responded in an audio message: “Perfect, tomorrow I’ll be able to tell you what day you will travel,” she said.
In the end, despite his initial enthusiasm, Viondi became anxious about going to Russia and cut contact with Dayana.
He stressed that the people who signed up in La Federal knew they would be going to fight.
“It’s hard living here. Everyone said, ‘If I choose this, I won’t die of hunger in Cuba,” he said. “But they knew where they were going. I knew perfectly well where I was going, too.”
Cuba is mired in its worst economic crisis in decades, with long lines for even the basics like food, fuel and healthcare, spurring an exodus of Cubans to the US, Latin America and Europe last year.
Alina Gonzalez, president of a neighbourhood block committee in La Federal tasked with mobilising support for the communist-run government, recalled the excitement stirred by the Russian military work.
“The one that lives over there? He went with his wife and two children. That one over there, with his wife. And the mother of another lives further down,” she said.
Roberto Sabori said many who left – including his 30-year-old son, Yasmani – had done so in a hurry, keeping their plans secret from even their families.
“I heard he was leaving the same day he left,” said a 53-year-old, adding that his son had called him as he prepared to board a flight from the resort town of Varadero to Moscow.
“He never told me anything.”
Cervantes, the seamstress of La Federal, recalls the desperation her husband Gonzalez, now in Russia, had felt in the months before he left.
“Work, work, work,” she said of his life. “One day, he said to me, ‘Mami, I just can’t take it anymore’.”
“One day he told me, ‘I’m going to Russia. He showed me the photocopy of his passport, and had the ticket and everything. That was July 17, he left on the 19th.”
While Cervantes chose to stay behind, at least three wives from La Federal had joined their husbands in Russia, as well as at least one child.
Cervantes said her cousin, Luis Herlys Osorio, had enlisted in the Russian army weeks after her husband departed, and that his wife, Nilda, was also now in Russia: “She went, and so did many of the women in the neighbourhood.”
Gonzalez objects to being called a mercenary. The former bricklayer, who had received his Russian passport, likens his decision to fight with Russia to that of the Cubans who fought in a Soviet-backed war in Angola in the 1970s.
In that war in southern Africa, widely viewed as a Cold War proxy conflict, Cuba deployed tens of thousands of troops to fight for a communist guerrilla group supported by Moscow against a rival, US-backed anti-communist movement.
“I’m following their example,” Gonzalez said. “Russia helped to maintain my family.” — Reuters