Man's health stirs concerns

                      BY ELAINE DE VALLE

                      It looks like a tiny homeless encampment to commuters along Sunset Drive.

                      But the tent, tarp and cots outside the South Miami Metrorail station -- and directly in front of the
                      Mexican Consulate -- has been home for the last week for a Cuban exile on a hunger strike to protest
                      Mexico's ouster last month of 21 young Cubans who forced their way into the Mexican embassy in
                      Havana.

                      As of 4 p.m. Wednesday, Jorge González had not had anything but water -- except an occasional mint
                      when his blood sugar level drops -- for exactly seven days, he says. The 55-year-old landlord, who
                      came to Miami in the 1980 Mariel boatlift and leads a small exile organization, wants his abstinence to
                      draw the attention of Mexican diplomats.

                      ''They need to rectify their actions,'' said González, who lives in Flagami. ``They violated the
                      international right to asylum, which is a treaty signed by many countries, including Mexico, in 1938 in
                      Costa Rica.''

                      Though Mexican officials have said the Cubans who crashed a bus through the fence at the embassy
                      Feb. 27 did not request political asylum, González is among many Cuban exiles who believe that was
                      their intent.

                      'We saw them on video screaming, `Abajo Fidel!' from the rooftops. 'Abajo Fidel!' [Down with Fidel] is a
                      dirty word in Cuba. You don't say that if you are not asking for political asylum,'' Gonzalez said.

                      FRIEND SENT HOME

                      He started the hunger strike with a friend. But on Tuesday, a doctor who visits daily sent Dagoberto
                      Avilez home -- with orders to eat -- because the lack of nutrition had aggravated an ulcer in his leg.

                      ''He had problems,'' said Dr. Gustavo León. ``We did a blood analysis, and I saw that [the hunger
                      strike] was going to damage him disastrously so I made him call it off.''

                      León says González takes medication to control his diabetes. ``He is drinking a lot of water. He is in
                      good, stable health.''

                      But González said he skipped some of his pills because they upset his stomach if not taken with milk or
                      food.

                      His wife -- who also stops by daily, as do several friends and other exiles who support the hunger
                      striker's cause -- worries about his health.

                      ''His sugar can go really low at any moment, and he can go into a coma. That's what really has me
                      nervous,'' said Mileidys Herrera, 31, who left Cuba in 1992. ``But I support him 100 percent.''

                      González was a fixture at the Little Havana home of Elián González, no relation, before the boy -- who
                      survived the shipwreck that killed his mother and 11 others -- was seized by federal agents and
                      returned to his father, who took him back to Cuba.

                      He was part of a security force that guarded the backyard of the home on Northwest Second Street and
                      was detained a day before the raid by the INS. Records show he has run afoul of the law on several
                      occasions, with convictions for carrying a concealed firearm, theft and burglary.

                      He says he will stay on the hunger strike ``until those 21 souls who were double-crossed by the
                      Mexican diplomats in Havana have reached free soil.''

                      But consulate officials say he has not made any kind of formal request to them.

                      ''Of course we have seen him,'' said Deputy Consul Jorge Valdés Diaz-Velez. ``And we know through
                      the media that he is allegedly on a hunger strike. But we don't know exactly what he wants.''

                      Valdés says he is confused by González's methods because he has received other Cuban Americans in
                      his office during the last few weeks to discuss the Havana incident.

                      ''This type of pressure does not further the dialogue,'' he said. ``I lament that someone would take
                      such extreme measures that would put his health at risk. And I'm worried about him.''

                      González said he will present a formal request to the consulate Friday, asking that the 21 Cubans and
                      their families be protected and possibly given refuge in Mexico. He had gathered 125 signatures for the
                      letter by Wednesday afternoon.

                      DAILY REGIMEN

                      Meanwhile, he passes the time listening to a battery-operated radio, sleeping and drinking water from
                      plastic bottles stored in the trunk of his gray Mercury Sable.

                      And, he adds, he's not hungry.

                      ''All the support I've gotten gives me strength,'' González said, shortly before a Nicaraguan woman
                      came up to him and pinned a pink dove to his shirt. ``You go ahead and bring me a roast pork, and I
                      won't pay any attention.''