hiding

DAKAR, Senegal — In Miami, Daniela Fuentes styled hair for clients and performed in drag at a nightclub called Azúcar. She wore her blond wig in public and dressed as the woman she had known herself to be since adolescence in Cuba.

Now, more than 6,000 miles away in the Central African Republic, she wears men’s clothes, lowers her voice and tries not to draw attention to the breasts she developed after beginning hormone treatment as a teenager. As part of U.S. efforts to deport people to countries other than their own, authorities sent her Aug. 29 to a place where she has no ties and where advocacy groups have reported arbitrary detention, torture, and other rights violations of sexual and gender minorities.

“Everything is difficult here because I have to hide who I am,” said Fuentes, a 32-year-old transgender woman living on a compound she rarely leaves, sharing a room with four Cuban men also deported from the U.S. “I don’t know this place, the people or the language, and I have no idea what will happen to me.”

The Central African Republic — one of the world’s poorest countries, a place with a history of conflict that the U.S. State Department advises American travelers to avoid — is one of at least 12 African nations that signed agreements to accept “third-country” deportations, a policy the U.S. Supreme Court last month allowed to continue, at least temporarily.

In the Central African Republic — where transgender people have little to no legal protections and are marginalized in much of society — Fuentes dons her wig only in the privacy of her bathroom. She described disguising herself as protection, first in U.S. detention and now in a country she first heard of when she was already headed there on a deportation flight.

“My whole life, my whole identity, was taken away from me,” Fuentes said.

Public records say a judge ordered Fuentes to leave the U.S. but offer no other information. Immigration and Customs Enforcement officials did not reply to emailed questions.

Tens of thousands of people have been deported to “third countries”

Fuentes’ compound in the capital, Bangui, is an apartment complex where the government houses male deportees.

Fuentes said she can leave but that officials have advised her and others to avoid it — they have no identification, which could lead to issues with the police. It also means they can’t work, she said, and she’s waiting on travel documents that would allow her to leave the country. The International Organization for Migration, an agency associated with the United Nations, has provided food, and the migrants say they’ve crowdsourced for donations to buy groceries.

The U.S. — via agreements often not made public — has deported about 25,000 people to more than two dozen countries that aren’t their own, the vast majority to Mexico, according to a tally by Third Country Deportation Watch, a partnership of Refugees International and Human Rights First. The U.S. has not released numbers or details.

From January 2025 to August 2026, more than 500 were sent to countries in Africa, according to a Human Rights Watch report published Thursday — including at least 12 people who identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender and were deported to places that criminalize same-sex relations or public same-sex romantic conduct. Some advocates say the number is likely higher.

“These are not bureaucratic errors or isolated incidents,” said Bridget Crawford, of the group Immigration Equality. “They are the predictable result of policies that purposefully abandon our legal and moral obligation to protect LGBTQ+ immigrants fleeing persecution.”

The U.S. government says the policy is lawful and that receiving governments provide assurances deportees won’t be persecuted or tortured.

Daniela Fuentes says ICE detained her with men before deportation

Fuentes grew up in La Lisa, on Havana’s outskirts, and said she understood from childhood that she was different. She began living as a woman in adolescence and started taking hormones at 18.

She ran a salon from her home, coloring and cutting hair. She said she was harassed because of her gender identity and attacked at least twice, leaving scars on her arm and head. Police also questioned her about operating a private business, she said — though housefront businesses are common in the area.

In 2023, Fuentes sold her home and left amid a deepening economic crisis and a crackdown on dissent — even as Cuba, one of Latin America’s most progressive countries for LGBTQ+ rights, adopted new inclusion laws. Making her way to the U.S., she said, she presented as a man traveling through Central America; she believed it was safer.

After seven months in Mexico, she said, she entered the U.S. through Texas via CBP One, a President Joe Biden-era online appointment system that allowed migrants to live in the country for two years on humanitarian grounds. Then she went to Miami.

There, she began living openly as a woman again. She found work styling hair and performed at Azúcar. Though she lacked permanent legal status, Fuentes said Miami offered something she’d rarely experienced: the freedom to move through daily life as herself.

That ended when officers encountered her outside a motel. Fuentes said they learned she had missed an immigration court hearing in Texas. She said she asked that the case be moved to Florida but received no response.

Fuentes said she was taken into custody and later placed in immigration detention with men. Officials confiscated her wig and gave her a male detainee’s uniform, she said.

Such treatment is in line with a January 2025 executive order directing officials to exclude transgender women from women’s prisons and detention centers.

“When I learned that they were going to put me with men, I almost fainted,” Fuentes said.

Deportees said they boarded a flight without knowing the destination

Fuentes was held at two detention facilities in Florida, then transferred to Texas. When armed officers arrived there, she said, she suspected she was facing deportation, but they didn’t reveal she was being sent to Africa until about five hours into the flight.

Other deportees on the flight told AP they also weren’t told the destination until they were on the plane. Dozens have been sent to the Central African Republic, including an Iranian woman facing persecution in her home country and an Afghan whose brothers worked with the U.S. military.

Fuentes said she does not understand why she was sent to Africa rather than Cuba. She told AP she has no lawyer.

The U.S. does repatriate Cuban citizens, as part of agreements to resume deportation flights in 2023, despite tensions in relations between the countries. Charter flights have arrived in Havana regularly.

Yasmany Moreno, another Cuban deportee in Bangui, said that upon arriving, the group had no visas or documents establishing their legal status in the country. Officials spoke of providing assistance for 90 days, he said, but the deportees didn’t know what would happen afterward or where they would live.

Several told AP their longer-term status remained unclear and that U.S. authorities had taken their identity documents.

A policy officer at the Central African Republic’s Foreign Ministry said the deportees are in “good hands” and are being monitored by the International Organization for Migration. He spoke on condition of anonymity because he was not authorized to discuss the matter publicly.

The U.S. this year committed to $85 million in funding to IOM for Central African Republic operations including “assistance to migrants” and “community stabilization.”

IOM says migrants can seek asylum in the country, request assistance to return home or get help traveling to another place they’re authorized to enter. It referred questions about the deportees’ status and individual cases such as Fuentes’ to Central African Republic officials. A government spokesperson didn’t reply to phone calls and text messages seeking comment.

Human Rights Watch’s report says some people deported to third countries face detention, abuse and the prospect of persecution. Eswatini has held deportees in a maximum-security prison without charges. Equatorial Guinea has held them against their will at a hotel owned by the president’s family.

“Several of these African governments are not only complicit in U.S. abuses but have violated the human rights of these deported people themselves,” Michael Garcia Bochenek, of Human Rights Watch, said in a statement.

Fuentes and other deportees say they can’t work, with most days spent at the compound

Fuentes said the Cuban men in her room know she is a woman and look out for her. She rarely feels safe enough to leave. Once, at a supermarket, workers pointed at her breasts and initially refused to sell her fruit, she said. Other people in Bangui have mocked her and pointed at her.

“My personal appearance is awful,” she said. “I look like a different human being.”

Moreno described restrictions on the group’s movements, saying officers accompanied them to the market and on occasional outings but restricted them from going out at night.

Fuentes and Moreno said they have no passports or other identification and cannot work. Most days, Fuentes remains at the compound, looking at her phone and waiting for travel documents.

She said Cuba has agreed to accept her return — a Cuban embassy document shows she is authorized.

But Fuentes said she hopes to seek asylum elsewhere, possibly Canada.

“The harassment and economic hardship that caused me to flee still remain,” she said.

Banchereau writes for the Associated Press. Jean Fernand Koena in Bangui, Central African Republic; Tim Sullivan in Minneapolis; and Cristiana Mesquita in Havana contributed to this report.

Normally when a telephone rings inside a bar, it’s the duty of the staff to pick it up. But when an old-timey rotary dial phone suddenly springs to life at the Last Canteen, it’s up to guests to decide what to do next.

Answer it — or attempt to make a call from it — and you’ll encounter one of dozens of pre-recorded messages. They’re calls from an imagined future, one when a war-torn America is on the mend from some sort of apocalyptic catastrophe. They’re messages, perhaps, for the bar’s fictional founder, a shotgun-carrying mysterious woman known for her mean bartering skills, or maybe if you’re lucky, you will dial into what sounds like an early 20th century party line and hear from those looking for a date in the Valley, now a neutral zone among warring factions.

The Last Canteen, situated on a stretch of Ventura Boulevard that’s just a short walk from the Universal City metro and minutes from Universal Studios Hollywood, is a new restaurant and bar that looks lifted from a theme park. It also feels like a throwback to an earlier time, when Los Angeles was an epicenter of the themed restaurant.

Southern California has a storied history when it comes to themed establishments. There’s our penchant for food-shaped eateries, of course — see our giant doughnuts or the Tail o’ the Pup — but dinner with a side of story is a Los Angeles-area staple that predates any corporate chains such as Rainforest Cafe or Chuck E. Cheese. From the long-forgotten Jail Cafe in the 1920s to our region’s birth of the tiki bar to the themed restaurant explosion of the ‘80s and ‘90s, when even Steven Spielberg got into the action with the submarine-focused DIVE! in Century City, the themed restaurant has long found a receptive audience in Southern California.

And the Last Canteen feels especially built for our moment.

The Last Canteen’s three founders were going for a lived-in feel.

(Eric Thayer / Los Angeles Times)

Taking influence from the likes of “Mad Max,” “Fallout” and a host of other dystopian, postapocalyptic media, the Last Canteen is a bar for an era — and a city — when the future seems especially uncertain. Whether it’s AI, corporate consolidation, inflation or the struggles of Hollywood that’s got you down, the Last Canteen wants to be your “Cheers” of sorts.

“It’s not the brightest of times, I would say for most of the world, but certainly younger generations are feeling like we got the rug pulled over us — the state of the economy and corporate overreach,” says Jimmy Clements, 32, who founded the Last Canteen with two other friends from the hospitality industry.

“We always joke that the world is ending, but there’s some charm in fully embodying what that would mean, and realizing there’s something on the other side,” he adds. “That’s what attracts me to the genre. OK, the worst thing possible happened, but there’s still people on the other side. We still need community and a place to eat and drink.”

A grenade fashioned out of a baseball is one of the items hidden in the Last Canteen.

(Eric Thayer / Los Angeles Times)

Or as Clements’ partner TJ Lewis says, “Who doesn’t watch ‘Mad Max’ and dream of riding on top of a crazy car with a spike in your hand?”

Despite a potentially bleak concept, the Last Canteen is open and welcoming. The color palette is soft, leaning heavily on dust-like sandy vibes, the cocktail menu takes influence from the fruity, complex world of tiki bars, and a sense of humor permeates the main dining room.

Yes, a demolition bomb, which is actually a movie prop from Angelina Jolie’s “Unbroken,” hangs from the ceiling, but take a moment to explore the venue and you’ll find grenades colorfully fashioned out of baseballs, or rewritten maps of the Valley in its new “Wasteland” era. Universal Studios’ famed minion still stands, but the Ikea is now a “hall of justice.”

Newspapers dot the walls. They’re filled with fiction that tell of the bar’s new reality, giving the place a sense of history and lore. One article, for instance, speaks of a battle that broke out near the remnants of US-101 next to the old “sidewalk stars site.” Another tells of how the bar’s founder took over the land where the establishment now stands. By force, of course. And don’t miss the beer taps, fashioned out of bullets, guns and baseball bats.

The Last Canteen is a themed bar that feels ripe for our era, one in which the future is filled with uncertainty.

(Eric Thayer / Los Angeles Times)

“It’s the difference for us between immersive and themed,” says Lewis. “Like the Hard Rock Cafe is themed. It’s got music on the wall, but you don’t feel like you’re at a concert when you’re there. It’s not immersive. What we were really going for is a lived-in space. We didn’t cover this in ‘Max Max’ posters. It is in the world of. It’s really open-ended. All the details on the wall help paint a picture.”

Of course there were limits. The team jokes that if they really wanted to exploit the dystopian theme, then drinks should likely be served in red plastic cups. Instead, the Last Canteen has proper drinkware, but each type of glass does come from a different set, as the owners wanted to give it a found materials vibe. The menu doesn’t stray too heavily from bar fare, and there are bowls of bison chili ($18), a burger ($18), a charcuterie plate ($21) and, of course, a “Last Meal,” which is a half grilled cheese, a cup of chili and a glass of sarsaparilla ($25).

The cocktail program, however, is extensive. The blackberry-infused Blackthumb or the spiced A Torch or Rosemary feel like darker twists on brighter, lively tiki fare. For those craving the latter, there is currently a frozen version of a Zombie. Bar founders Clements, Lewis and Drew Aloe say the menu, both cocktails and food, will change seasonally.

The Last Canteen founders Jimmy Clements, from left, TJ Lewis and Drew Aloe.

(Eric Thayer / Los Angeles Times)

And the tiki influence is no accident. The three cite the Disneyland Hotel’s Trader Sam’s as the Last Canteen’s primary influence. Also an inspiration? Oga’s Cantina at Disneyland’s Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge. Theme parks were on their mind as much as the apocalypse.

“What they do so well is they feel really lived in,” Clements says of Trader Sam’s and Oga’s. “It doesn’t feel like a cute homage. You walk in the door and you’re somewhere else.”

And guests are noticing.

“We had someone opening weekend tell me that this feels like an end-of-the-world Trader Sam’s. Thank you. That’s all we want,” Lewis says.

This week in SoCal theme parks

Fast & Furious: Hollywood Drift is now in daily operations at Universal Studios Hollywood.

(Ronaldo Bolaños / Los Angeles Times)

• New coaster. New accolades. New noise complaints. Universal Studios Hollywood officially opened its Fast & Furious: Hollywood Drift last week after months of running the thrill ride in a soft open phase. Fans were happy, with some even calling it the “best” coaster in SoCal. But nearby neighbors in Toluca Lake still want change, arguing that the sound of rider screams from the coaster is disrupting their lives.
• Calling all Disney film buffs. Starting this Sunday, Santa Ana’s Frida Cinema will begin hosting a weekly “Walt Disney Studios” film series hosted by historian/educator Jeff Kurtti. First up is “20,000 Leagues Under the Sea,” which will also feature a presentation from artist/designer Kevin Kidney, who over the years has contributed to many a Disney parks project. Other Sunday screenings will include “Alice in Wonderland,” “Disneyland Handcrafted,” “Swiss Family Robinson” and more. Check out the full series here.
• And speaking of “Disneyland Handcrafted.” It’s the last call for tickets to a stellar Disneyland history and charity event at Santa Ana’s Bowers Museum, which on Sunday will screen the Leslie Iwerks documentary as well as host a reception and panel. Historian and author Tim O’Day will moderate a talk that includes the film’s producer, Mark Catalena, former Imagineer-turned-historian Tom Morris and current Imagineer Emily “Emo” O’Brien, who oversees creative at Disneyland and is leading the team behind the just-announced makeover of Tomorrowland. Tickets start at $125 and are on sale now.

Ride report

The concluding, trippy scene in Inked, a new maze from Knott’s Scary Farm.

(Todd Martens / Los Angeles Times)

As we get deeper into Halloween season, I wanted to highlight another haunted maze, this one being the best one at this year’s Knott’s Scary Farm event. Inked is the maze, and it’s set in a 1930s cartoon studio. While of course having the requisite number of scare actors who will pounce on guests after they turn any corner, the maze also charms as it features original animation in the style of Disney’s classic “Silly Symphony” cartoons. Nearly every room in the haunted house boasts a cartoon scene starring a cutesy ghost, a little cat and an often sad pumpkin man.

The story is the drawn figures have come to life and are now murderous, but you’ll wish you could stop and watch a graveyard short or hang with a jazzy skeleton band. Giant pumpkin heads are animated with cartoon eyes and a mirror-heavy psychedelic scene, pictured above, brings the maze to a fiery conclusion. Knott’s is perhaps relying too heavily on returning mazes of late, but Inked is a winner.

Tell us your stories. Ask us your questions.

Have a theme park tale to share? Whether it was a good day or less-than-perfect day, I would love to hear about it. Have a question? A tip? A fun photo from the parks to share? Email me at todd.martens@latimes.com. I may feature your note in an upcoming newsletter.

Ride on,

Todd Martens

P.S.

Magic Mountain’s currently shuttered X2 coaster has been in the news of late.

The X2 ride has for years been the Valencia park’s crown jewel, the first roller coaster in the world that spun riders 360 degrees in their seats. It even topped my ranking of thrill rides at the park. I wrote that it was a risky choice, as the coaster is not for the faint of heart. Its seats extend off the track, giving you a sensation of flight at its most chaotic, with an assortment of loops that suddenly shift direction and segue into drops. Due to the constantly changing direction of its seats, the path of the track can be hard to discern.

But X2 has come under close inspection after several lawsuits allege people were injured on the ride. Six Flags shut down X2 in July amid a state investigation into the coaster. The Times’ Fedor Zarkhin has the story.