Date: Fri, 14 Apr 1995 01:24:47 -0400 Reply-To: Chris Hagin Date: Wed, 12 Apr 1995 Homosexuals in Cuba finding greater acceptance from society, government By Christopher Marquis Knight-Ridder Newspapers HAVANA -- He doesn't look like President Fidel Castro's New Man, the one gracing countless billboards here -- machine gun, olive drab, everything for the revolution. Rather, he could be the New Man from the pages of Rolling Stone -- a cascade of long hair, fashionably baggy shorts and so hung over he would do anything for relief. Thirty years ago, authorities might have carted him off to a work camp. Zealous revolutionaries might have pinned him down for a sidewalk haircut. Fifteen years ago, mobs might have chased him to a boat at Mariel heading for U.S. exile. Today, this 20-something gay Cuban has few secrets, little discretion and no apologies. In a booming voice that makes his grandmother wince, he scoffs at the idea that any custodians of morality could force him to lead the life of a coward or martyr. ``They don't exist,'' he says. ``At least not for me.'' After three decades of being persecuted, ridiculed or shunted aside, homosexuals in Cuba are finding greater acceptance throughout society and new tolerance from the government. Virtually everyone credits the runaway success of the Cuban film ``Strawberry and Chocolate,'' a tale about Communist homophobia that was nominated this year for an Academy Award -- the first Cuban finalist in the foreign film category. Artists have been emboldened to take up gay themes in song and theater. Youths increasingly affect the androgynous look. Occasional transvestite shows, once unheard of on this island nation 90 miles south of Florida, draw appreciative crowds. And the government is encouraging new contacts with foreign homosexual-rights groups and trying to update its own sexual code. ``I can see changes in attitudes toward homosexuals. People don't consider them as strange as they used to,'' said Mayra Rodriguez, a coordinator at the Center for Sex Education, who says more and more young Cubans are coming out of the closet. The newfound freedom has its limits, though. ``There is still a large part of the population that rejects them,'' Rodriguez said. There are no openly gay bars in Cuba. Gay social life remains discreetly centered around private parties in people's homes. And there is no gay movement to claim political rights and legal protection against discrimination. But no longer are homosexuals automatically viewed as enemies of the state. No longer are they targeted for specific jobs under the premise that ``Work will make you men.'' No longer are most AIDS sufferers forcibly confined to sanitariums, a response to both international criticism and high costs. ``This is the year of tolerance,'' said Marlene Moleon, who is making a video about homosexuals for the Felix Varela Center, a private institution that promotes humanistic values. ``We are reflecting on where we want to go.'' Although the plight of gays in Cuba has long been chronicled by such exile artists as author Reinaldo Arenas and film maker Orlando Jimenez Leal, it took director Tomas Gutierrez Alea's ``Strawberry and Chocolate'' to spur the current reassessment. Financed partly with state funds and acclaimed at the 1993 Havana Film Festival, the movie provides a sympathetic look at Diego, a cultured gay man who woos a communist university student named David. As their burgeoning friendship endures the trials of official and social intolerance, David finds his contempt replaced by compassion, while Diego chooses to leave Cuba. Gutierrez Alea, whose status as the dean of Cuban cinema afforded him considerable leeway in criticizing the state, says the movie is about intolerance in all its forms. For the gays who crowded movie houses to see themselves cast in a favorable light for the first time, it has been nothing short of liberating. ``You see a new level of tolerance,'' said Ana Maria Ramos Diaz, a radio talk show host and lesbian. ``People you thought would never talk about the subject of homosexuality are suddenly discussing it with understanding in line at the corner store.'' ``The movie saved people ... After seeing it, you felt more free,'' said a philosophy student at the University of Havana. ``It became all right to say `mistakes were made''' during the era of persecutions. Government critics detect something cynical in Havana's decision to embrace the film. At a time when Castro is casting about for foreign allies and investments, they see it as a means to promote an image of liberality where it doesn't truly exist. ```Strawberry and Chocolate' is a product for export,'' scoffed a university professor who is trying to emigrate to the United States. The government is also reaching out to homosexual-rights groups abroad. The Federation of Cuban Women last year invited advocates from half a dozen U.S. gay groups to witness July 26 festivities honoring the start of the revolution. Jorge Cortinas, the Cuban-American program director of the San Francisco-based International Gay and Lesbian Human Rights Commission, said Cuba is eager to repair its relations with U.S. progressives, who oppose the U.S. embargo yet fault Havana for its treatment of gays. Cortinas, who met freely with gays during his visit, found the current climate ``real, extensive and praiseworthy.'' X X X