Life as an enslaved Cuban doctor in Venezuela

Dr. Elisandra del Prado in Venezuela

And to think, some want to give the communist Castro dictatorship a Nobel Prize for sending doctors as slaves to a foreign country to be mistreated and punished for not obeying their slave masters.

Via Diario de Cuba:

‘The minute you arrive, they’re mistreating you’: the harsh experience of a Cuban doctor who worked in Venezuela

You cannot go to church, get home late, socialize with Venezuelans, and certainly not fall in love with someone, without the Party’s permission … for breaking those rules, Elisandra del Prado will not be able to see her young son … for eight years.

Cuban doctor Elisandra del Prado Torres, a specialist in Comprehensive General Medicine, studied for a Diploma in Physical and Occupational Therapy to join the medical mission in Venezuela and also took the Communist Party’s political course. She arrived in Venezuela on January 16, 2020. A few days later, she wanted to return to Cuba.

“The minute you get there, they’re mistreating you. They don’t give you a proper meal for a person coming off a trip, or adequate accommodations. They send you to a house, while they organize your assignment, because I didn’t have an exact one when I arrived in Venezuela,” said the 31-year-old professional, the mother of a four-year-old boy.

“There were several rooms, and each one had like six or seven bunk beds. The food was terrible. The first meal they had was a kind of broth. It was inedible. The next day, I didn’t even get any breakfast. I arrived at 8:00 in the morning and it was already over.”

“I spent about three days there, and they sent me to the State of Lara, where I was in another house for three more days. It was like a prison. There was a long corridor with four rooms, and in each one there were six or seven bunks. There they put men and women together, in the same room, which shows a total lack of respect. For breakfast they give you an arepa; not even, it was a flour thing that you could barely eat, cold. And that was it. Not even a little milk, or tea. Nothing. There wasn’t even water to drink. That killed me, ever since I got to the mission. I was longing to return to Cuba, to tell you the truth. I couldn’t even communicate with my family. They don’t even allow you to communicate with your family.”

In Lara, they sent her to La Estancia, a place near Barquisimeto, which she described as “pretty quiet. It wasn’t dangerous.”

“I was there for a month and a half working as a physical therapist. There were quite a few patients who required treatment. They were open in the morning and, in the afternoon, I was free. But you had to be at the CDI (Comprehensive Diagnosis Center) from 8:00 in the morning to 4:00 in the afternoon. I couldn’t go home to do chores, shop… nothing.”

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