Jerislandys Marcos Marcos, Diana María Pérez Lara and Wendy Ramos Cáceres have three things in common: they are Cubans, their lives changed at Barajas Airport, Madrid, and the three were helped by the Cobijo project, overseen in the Spanish capital by Cuban priest Bladimir Navarro.
"That man hugged me like he'd known me his whole life"
Jerislandys, a 39-year-old computer engineer, arrived in Russia in 2022. He opted for Europe because the journey to the United States is much more expensive, even though it is closer to Cuba. From Russia, where he worked for eight months "saving every penny," he traveled to Spain via Serbia, Turkey, Bosnia, Croatia, Slovenia, Italy, and France, in a group of 11 people, including a four-year-old girl.
During the 11-day trip these 11 Cubans had to hide from the police, sleep "in the open, in bitter cold," cross an icy river, and climb a steep and slippery slope. They also got lost at night in a rural area where there were no roads.
Jerislandys arrived in Madrid on October 13, 2022, without money, friends, or anywhere to go. He decided to go to Barajas Airport to sleep, and because there was Internet there.
"On the street I didn't have Wi-Fi or the faintest idea how to get a phone with a line from here. At the airport, with Wi-Fi, I was able to keep in touch."
He was there when the person who had guided him from Madrid during the trip he undertook in Russia wrote to him. That person sent him Father Bladimir's phone number.
"Father Bladimir later told me that he was praying to the Virgin and asked her: 'what gift do you have for me today?' And that's when he got my message," Jerislandy said.
Father Bladimir sent him the address and told him to take a taxi, that he would pay for it, and that he was waiting for him, to have lunch.
"He can testify to the state I arrived in: skinny, dirty, smelly, and ragged. That man hugged me as if he'd known me all his life. He hugged me as if I were family. He didn't even look at the condition I was in. He paid the man and he took me to his house. He said, 'wash up and let's eat.'"
The next day, the priest gave Jerislandys clothing and shoes, thanks to donations by good Samaritans that Cobijo receives.
Unlike Jerislandys, Wendy Ramos Cáceres did not intend to stay in Spain. She was at the airport to return to Cuba, when she suffered a crisis related to a chronic illness and had to be hospitalized, so she lost her ticket.
The doctors who treated her in Madrid told her that if she returned to Cuba her life expectancy would be reduced to less than a year. In Spain, where she has the treatment and medicines she needs, that expectancy increased considerably.
"First I was with some nuns and then, through a journalist from El Debate, I got in touch with Father Bladimir. As soon as I talked to him, he said, 'Yes, come on such and such a day,'" explained the Art History graduate.
Diana María Pérez traveled to Spain, alone, to start a new life and give her 21-year-old daughter a better future. To emigrate she had an advantage that neither Jerislandys nor Wendy did: Spanish nationality.
Although she already knew about Father Bladimir and his project in Spain, because she followed him on Facebook, she did not plan to go to Cobijo. She had already paid for housing in Galicia, where she was able to get officially registered, and where, she had been told, life was "much cheaper than in Madrid." But something unexpected happened.
"I was supposed to travel there, La Coruña, via three cities, but I missed the first bus. There were no more until the next morning. I was going to stay at the airport, to wait until 10:00 in the morning the next day. A friend of my sister's called Father Bladimir and said, 'Ileana's sister is at the airport, you can't leave her there. And Bladimir quickly sent someone to get me," says Diana Maria.
That night the priest tried to convince her to stay at Cobijo, but she had her plans and the next day she left for Galicia, where she ran into another stumbling block: "the lady who was renting the room had told me that there was no problem, that she was going to help me with the first procedures. But when I arrived, that wasn't so."
"I quickly wrote to Bladimir: 'I accept your offer; I'll be there on Saturday.'
"He slept on a couch in his house and we slept in his room"
Diana María has been in Cobijo for more than three months, where she shares a room with Melissa, a 17-year-old Cuban who emigrated to Spain with her parents.
Regarding the relationships between the three families living in this apartment in Alcobendas, Madrid, Diana María says that "we always try to be like a family."
"We try to respect people's spaces. We talk to reach agreements about the kitchen, the cleaning, the washing. If we have to buy something for everyone, we also share the expenses," explains Diana María.
Melisa describes their relationships as "very relaxed," despite the fact that the three families share just one kitchen. "Whoever's home cooks" for everyone "and we all eat at the table."
"A person who works may arrive later and come in to bathe. The others can even sit down and start eating, because sometimes they arrive at 10:00 at night. And when that person who arrived late sits down to eat, well, we sit down and accompany them," says her mother, Ibis.
As for the bathrooms, Melisa explains that there are two, so there are no uncomfortable situations when it comes to using them.
Melisa's parents, Ibis and Carlos, also learned about the Cobijo project from Cuba. They had Spanish nationality, but they did not have anywhere to stay in Spain. When they told Bladimir this he told them that if they got the tickets and flew to Madrid he would give them accommodations.
"We set about preparing all the documents. That took a while. When everything was ready we got the tickets and came. He had us picked up at the airport, and took us to his house, and that's where we found out that Cobijo was full. The houses were full. So, he actually put us up in his own room. We felt really bad about that, but we are so grateful to him. He slept on a couch in his living room, and we slept in his room. We were there for 15 days, until there was space here, and then we came," says Ibis.
"True solidarity"
Since the beginning of August 2022, when Father Bladimir received the keys to the first house, donated by a woman from his parish, Cobijo shelters have multiplied, there now being 18 (in September there were 19, but one had to be closed). One of the ones that was opened most recently, in August, is "for Cuban children who are sick and arrive here," explains the priest.
The number of Cubans who need accommodations has also multiplied, so much so that there is not always room for all those who arrive. In mid-September 127 Cubans were being accommodated by the project. Today there are 125, as two managed to move out.
Between all those who have received food and clothing, orientations, and transportation cards (277), almost 400 people have been assisted thus far this year.
But Cobijo has done more. "With the help of the Banco Santander and other foundations, we made it possible for children to enjoy their summers. The first thing we set up was an urban camp in Alcobendas, with more than 30 children, 15 of whom were Cuban."
The camp was called "Awakening Talents," an opportunity for children to discover their talent for painting, dancing, sports, and other activities.
"Then, we were delighted to be able to send them to Valencia," says the priest. The children were there for 12 days and, according to Father Bladimir, "they didn't want to return."
Where does the money come from to have 18 houses and help so many Cubans? Father Bladimir clarifies that he receives nothing from the government, and that "Cobijo is the result of alliances between many foundations, associations." The City of Alcobendas very recently decided to support the project, but the aid has not yet arrived.
Regarding the sources of financing, the priest states that, respecting those who are not believers, "God provides. Just when we're about to go broke, there's always someone who says, 'Look, we'll give you a donation so you can pay for the apartments.'"
He also refers to its "ecosystem of friends." One gives him some rice, another, a mattress; another, a TV.
The priest emphasizes that "Spaniards love Cubans," which is why many support the project. Cubans who pass through Cobijo, once they manage to become independent and have some economic stability, also make contributions.
"That is true solidarity," Father Bladimir points out. "That's the real sacrifice for others. These Cubans, who arrive in Madrid and are able to get ahead, pay their debts, and save a little money, are helping other Cubans who have just arrived."
"That's also worth pointing out. Cobijo exists thanks to those who have come before, and are now contributing so that this work can continue in Madrid," he said.
An example of this solidarity among Cubans was the "Hope of Cubans" charity Expoventa, held in September, in which works by 17 artists from the island were auctioned.
In total, 15 works were sold and 30% of what the artists made was donated to Cobijo. Several of those artists had received help from Cobijo. One of the people who was able to acquire paintings was also assisted by the project when she found herself helpless, with her daughter, in Madrid.
The curator of the exhibition was Wendy Ramos Cáceres, who now lives with members of her family who arrived in Madrid.
Jerislandys now has a permanent job as a programmer. He still lives in an apartment in Cobijo, and makes a monetary contribution to the project every month. He was also the creator of the project's website.
If it is not with an apartment, it will be with food, clothes, or orientation, but the project will continue to assist Cubans.
The priest is aware that the project may end up attracting more Cubans now living on the island, and that it could end up being overwhelmed, in which case it would be forced to say no to families in need of accommodations. But, he says, that fear does not stop him, and that when he must say "no" it will be "a no along with a hug and a 'what can I help you with?'"
If it is not with an apartment, it will be with food, clothes, an orientation, but the project will continue to assist Cubans, says Father Bladimir.
People interested in supporting Cobijo can communicate with the project through social media. The priest clarifies that people can help not only with money, clothes or food, but also with their time. For example, people eager to help Cobijo might spend an afternoon with children, to get them out of the house, or just take a walk with the beneficiaries.
The priest explained, with satisfaction, that at the end of October Melissa and her parents managed to become independent and now they live in Córdoba.
Diana María continues in the apartment in Alcobendas. She also hopes to achieve the independence and economic stability necessary to bring her daughter to Madrid.