Playa Girón (aka Bay of Pigs)

           Friday, we finally got the chance to go to the site of the Bay of Pigs invasion.  We have a Cuban-US Relation’s class and everything that we have been talking about lately has lead up to this crucial point in the history of the United States and our neighbor to the south.  Literally, for the last two weeks we have only discussed the motives behind the invasion, who planned it, who was involved in it, the whole nine-yards.  To actually be able to go and see where everything happened was a really incredible treat.

            Our whole trip was fraught with unexpected perils and setbacks, the first of which were the crabs.  Crabs?  What could little crabs do to set back a trip for half-an-hour and cause carsickness?  Well, I will tell you.  Near Playa Girón (the actual name of the beach and what the Cubans call what happened) there lives a special kind of crab that the Cubans call cangrejos.  These little blighters have wicked sharp claws that when they stick them straight up in the air will puncture a tire.  So, the carsickness came about because we had to weave our way around all of the crabs while we were driving alongside the coast. 

            When we got to the museum and had stabilized our stomachs, we found out that, in true Cuba style, there was a power outage and the amazing documentary that we were supposed to watch was no longer an option.  Our professor, Raul, was really disappointed because apparently it shows a really excellent view of what the Cuban perspective was on the whole invasion.  The more that I learn in this class, the more I realize how unfair and unjust the treatment of Cuba was leading up to the Bay of Pigs.  When Fidel Castro came to power, he really was trying to find a way to make his countrymen’s lives better.  During the final years of Batista’s reign, 60% of Cuba’s countryside was illiterate.  That was a total of 4 million out of the 11 million on the island.  Havana had 1 doctor for every 250 people, while some of the cities on the east of the island had 1 doctor for 2,500 people! 

            The other professor that we have for the Cuban-US Relations class has a saying that is very indicative of all that occurred during the tyranny of Batista’s reign.  That capitalism in Cuba was like a ham, but the Cubans ended up with the bone and the Americans ended up with all the meat.  Learning about this is really making me question and evaluate the information that I have been taught about Fidel Castro.  Up until the Bay of Pigs invasion, socialism was not what the revolutionary government was proposing.  When the US trained troops landed on Cuban soil, that was the very first time that Castro declared the socialist nature of the revolution while simultaneously calling his people to defend it.  Don’t worry I am not becoming a communist, and he still committed numerous human rights violations, but in the early days, I can see why so many people revered him so much.  

            One of the most interesting personal reactions that I had while we were at the museum was over a story about a young woman named Nemesia.  Supposedly it is a true story about a poem that was written called Nemesia Flor Carbonero.  All of her life, Nemesia had wanted a pair of white high heeled shoes but had never been able to afford them.  After the revolutionary government came to power, with all of the assistance given to the poor people in the region, she was finally able to buy her shoes.  Well, the first wave of attack by the US backed Cuban troops was to bomb the region that they were planning on using as their beachhead.  In the process, Nemesia’s white high heels were destroyed, and are now on display in the museum along with the poem.  For my part, and I am being brutally honest, when I first heard this I thought that it was a bunch of anti-Yankee propaganda and a crock of bull.  But then I began to think about it a little more and realized that we have little stories like that about all of our national monuments and famous places.  Why can’t I appreciate the Cuban version?  It really made me think and question how much I value other cultures and histories, even when they don’t line up exactly with what I have been taught.           

            So, to wrap up the story about the crabs, when we left the museum we realized that we had not missed all of them and that we had a flat tire.  Our drivers went to get a spare and a half-an-hour later we were on our way.  On the way home, we stopped at a little resort type area and, you would never guess it, had crocodile for lunch!  I’ve never had it before, and in the spirit of trying new things ordered some.  While I am glad I tried it, definitely not on the short list of what I want my next meal to be.  Afterwards, we got to go snorkeling in the ocean for a mere $3!  The water was so blue and so clear that when I dove down to the bottom my ears started popping like crazy because it was actually pretty deep.  Overall, I would say that this was the most action packed excursion that we have had so far, but completely worth it.

Batabanó

            Yesterday, our group went on a little exploring tour.  This past week a bunch of professors from the University of Alabama were here and we played host to them so we didn’t get to do a whole lot around town that we haven’t done before.  So in order to make up for that we decided, and by we I mean our professor, that we were just going to drive straight south and see what we found.  Cuba is a very long island but it is not very wide so the trip to the southern coast was only about an hour ride.

            We ended up in a very tiny fishing village that was just barely big enough to be a dot on the map.  It was called Batabanó and was at most 10 blocks square.  This was definitely not a tourist spot and it was really nice not having to see all the same shops trying to sell you souvenirs.  Our adventure took off when we pulled up to the coast and we just started walking.  This was not a developed beach, with pristine sand or beach chairs set up for you to rent.  Oh no, this was driftwood piled up, mangrove trees growing, hiking through tall grass virgin beach. 

            When we had driven into the town, a man had offered us a whole big spread for lunch and he came with us to show us around to make sure that we didn’t get away.  He led us on a trek through what we jokingly referred to as the “jungle” of Cuba.  We got to see one of the sites where the charcoal makers live while they are burning the wood to make charcoal.  It was really cool, but they have to live for months in a glorified swamp burning mangrove trees so that they can float their finished product down to the coast to try to sell it and make a profit.  They build little shanties while they are out working and fish at night to have something to eat.  There is a natural plateau near this village so lobster, crab, and fish are very common. It is a hard and solitary life that they have to maintain for months on end.  I know I couldn’t do it.

            After we had trekked through the wilderness, our guide took us to his brother’s house where we had our giant spread for lunch waiting.  Oh my gosh, I have never had such a smorgasbord of food in my entire life.  We had the freshest, biggest, most incredible lobster I have ever had with butter and garlic, cooked to perfection.  We had rice and beans, tomatoes and cucumbers; it was legitimately one of the most perfect meals I had ever had.  And we ate it right in our guide’s brother’s kitchen!  They were so welcoming and not afraid at all to have seven loud Americans in to eat.  It was probably one of the top three Saturdays I have had while I’ve been here.   

Museo de Ron

            Today during our excursion to discover Havana, we went to see the Rum Museum.  Growing up in a family of people who love everything to do with the eating process, alcohol has always been around.  Rum was never the biggest bottle in our liquor cabinet, but let me tell you, thanks to my dad I can lay down some information about Maker’s Mark whiskey.  The process to distill and create rum is not very different from that of making whiskey just a few minor differences.

            Rum is distilled from the remains of the refining process of sugar cane and the leftover sugar allows for the entire fermentation process to occur.  Sugar cane originally came to Cuba in 1513 and quickly became the staple crop produced on the island.  The rise of the slave trade provided the many workers needed before the semi-industrialized process of refining came about.  The first locomotive actually came to Cuba in 1837 and with it a flood of new technology that slowed the massive need for slave workers.

            After the distillation of the leftover cane pieces go through three different boiling processes with varying temperatures, the remaining liquid is put into barrels and aged.  The first pull off of any rum barrel is called Añejo Blanco and is the most common rum sold under the label of Havana Club.  While we were touring the museum, our guide told us that you needed five things to be a good rum connoisseur.  You need to have a good nose, good taste buds, have worked in a sugar factory for 10 years, have a degree in Chemistry, and be a drunk.  The most well renowned rum connoisseur in Cuba is a man by the name of José Pablo Navaro and apparently is famous for fulfilling all of these qualifications.

              I am not a big rum drinker so I wasn’t tempted to buy the 1,700 C.U.C (national money of Cuba that under the current exchange rate 1 C.U.C equals $0.87) bottle that they had available to buy.  Apparently, Spain, Germany, and Canada are the most major importers of the Havana Club label but our guide said that if the embargo with the Unites States were ever to lift, that would easily be the biggest market.  It was definitely a cool thing to see the whole process of making rum because a bottle of rum here costs less than a 2-liter bottle of water.  I have a theory going that Cubans don’t drink water, they just drink rum and so far my theory holds.

Vanessa Vasquez Sanchez

            On Tuesday’s we have people come into our Roundtable discussion class and expound a little on what Cuban life is like.  This past Tuesday we had the opportunity to have a recently graduated PhD from the University of Havana come and talk to us.  Vanessa is the daughter of Pepe Vasquez, the man who knows all of Havana and is the number two man in the Historian’s office, and her doctorate is in Anthropology.  It was literally one of the most informative talks that we have ever had.

            First of all, the University of Havana does not even offer an Anthropology degree; you have to obtain your Biology degree with a concentration in Anthropology.  While she was working on obtaining her degree she did a lot of work researching various health problems that are prevalent within Cuban society and looked at a lot of the demographics of this country.  In order to receive a degree in International Relations from the University of Alabama you have to take quite a few anthropology classes, so the things that she talked about I was very familiar with.

            In the last 237 years, Cuba has only taken a census 17 times!  The major factors influencing the process are the economic burdens that it places on the governments and the need for political constancy.  Up until 1959, the volatile nature of the Cuban government hindered the process and since the Revolution, economics have hindered it to the point that it has only been taken twice.  Interestingly, the health problems that Cubans have are the problems that are normally associated with the “first world” countries instead of those commonly found in “third world” countries.  Obesity is actually a big problem here because fats and sugars are cheap and there is not a cultural foundation for consuming lots of vegetables.  Rice and beans literally comprise the majority of every Cuban’s diet.  Pizza is another common cheap food that a lot of people eat because they can get it easily on the streets.  Something that Vanessa mentioned that really surprised me was that children who are overweight are actually seen as healthier than skinny children.  And, instead of the oldest in a gathering being served first, it is custom for the youngest to be served first.

            The single most astounding thing that Vanessa shared with us was the abortion rate in Cuban society.  23.8% of all women in this country have had an abortion, 16.8% have had two, 8.4% have had 3, and 12% of women have had more than 4!  One of the major contributing factors is that abortion is a free service provided by the state since 1965 and there is no precedence for it being a taboo subject.  In fact, many parents, no matter how religious, encourage their daughters to get an abortion if she is still in school because they worry that it would interrupt her studies.  Sex education is a high priority here, so the government does encourage preventative measures to try to counteract the fact that most of the people over the age of 15 are having sex.  In a country where sexual promiscuity is a commonplace thing, contraceptive measures are high on the list of Cuban priorities.  

Varadero

            Yesterday, we got to have a little vacation!  Our professor decided that since we had been working so very dutifully on our semester projects and the rest of our classes, we were going to spend our Saturday in Varadero, the exclusive beach town of Cuba.  Let me tell you, this was one swanky place compared to the rest of the island that I have seen.

            The majority of Cuba that I have seen, and by now I have seen quite a bit, is struggling to make ends meet.  Most homes are aging and in a state of disrepair, people are getting fired all of the time, and everywhere you go you come in contact with the black market (the only thriving market in this country).  People are poor, and there is a constant fight for people to try to earn enough to do enjoyable things and have nice things.

            Varadero is not like the rest of Cuba.  It is about an hour and a half outside of Havana on the coast, and the biggest city nearest it is Matanzas on the other side of a large bay.  Even while we were passing through Matanzas, I was shocked by the differences that I saw between it and Havana.  All of the houses were newly painted, there were more modern cars, the people themselves had nicer clothes, I saw more stores, and I was completely blown away.  I asked Marci, our driver, why Matanzas was so different from everything that I had seen before and he said that it was because a lot of the people worked in Varadero.

            Once we had finally driven around the bay and driven onto the peninsula that Varadero is located on, I thought that I had left the country.  I have always grown up going to the beach and I literally thought that I was on the Florida coast.  There were pristine sand beaches, massive hotels, places that you could rent beach chairs, the only thing that made me realize that I was in Cuba was the music blasting from the hotel bar’s speakers.

            As the day wore on and we stayed on the beach, I slowly realized that there were absolutely no Cubans on the beach.  The only people that I saw were sunburned Europeans and Canadians playing bocce ball and drinking mojitos.  As we were driving back to Havana, we lamented with our professor about the fact that Varadero is quickly losing all of its Cuban aspects.  It is turning into a glorified resort town and losing all of the distinctive Cuban qualities that make this country so wonderful.  I enjoyed the break, but it was definitely disconcerting to be in a country but to have completely left it at the same time.

Jardin Botanico y Zoologico

            Today was our long excursion day and our Professor decided to take us to see the Botanical Gardens and Zoo in Havana.  We were supposed to go a couple of weeks ago, but that was when our driver was hung over, or on another job, nobody knows.  Anyways, I have realized that I have to keep my expectations very low and not assume anything about our trips so that I am pleasantly surprised when we do go and it exceeds my expectations.

            We started at the botanical garden and I was amazed at how big it was.  It covers three square kilometers and is divided up into zones based on continental regions.  The first zone that we went through was Cuba’s and had all of the native species of trees that grow on the island.  Next came Central and South America, followed by North America, Africa, Asia and Australia.  Interestingly, Europe was the only region that had no plant life represented.  I don’t know if it was because those trees can’t flourish here, or some other reason.  The last thing that we got to see was called the “Palmera”, which was a giant expanse covered with over 200 different species of palm trees from all over the world.  I found out that the national tree of Cuba is the “palma real”, or royal palm, so you do learn something new everyday.

            After our tour of all the beautiful trees, we went to the Parque Zoológico Nacional, better known as a zoo to all my gringo readers.  If you have ever been to The Wild Animal Kingdom in Orlando, Florida and have gone on the safari ride, this was exactly like that.  We rode into the park that resembled an African safari on a converted public transportation bus and drove through the entire wide expanse.  I was surprised by the fact that all of the animals were so very close to the road.  In fact, if the bus driver hadn’t picked up speed driving away then a giraffe would have stuck his head right through a window.  One of the main attractions of the park is the fact that it is home to 18 lions and all of them occupy about an acre of land.

            On the way back, we got to chat with our taxi driver, who, apparently, is a hydraulic engineer who worked in France for a little while and Colombia for three years.  He told us that the money that he made while he was in Colombia he used to buy a car so that he could become a taxi driver because they make more money than engineers do in this country.  This blew my mind, because a job that most Americans would look down upon, that of a taxi driver, is what highly educated and knowledgeable people in Cuba have to settle for.  I asked him if thought that the economic change that Cuba is undergoing will change things and he said that he doubted that anything was going to change in the next five years.  It was a revealing insight into Cuban life.

La Fabrica de Tabacco

            Yesterday, we had the opportunity to go to La Fabrica de Partagas, also known as the Partagas Tobacco Factory.  It is located right next to the capital building, literally right across the street.  As you walk up to it, there are men trying to sell you cigars on the cheap but on the down low because they shouldn’t technically be selling them.  Our professor actually had to go across the street to buy our entrance tickets because the government (who has owned the factory since the revolution) doesn’t trust that the people who work there won’t try to rip people off.

            My dad is a big cigar smoker, so I was super excited to see the factory and the entire time I was there I was wishing that I could take pictures to show him.  Apparently, you aren’t allowed to take pictures, I don’t know if it is to keep secret their process or what.  Anyways, a Spaniard originally owned the factory, Jaime Partagas.  It has been around for almost a hundred and fifty years and the cigars that they roll have always been made by hand.  The US is apparently the biggest illegal market for Cuban cigars, but Spain and England are tied for the biggest number of exports.

            The factory produces 25,000 cigars a day, and like I said, all of them are made by hand.  The process is so specialized that for every 100 students who enter in the program to study to be a cigar maker, only 50 graduate.  Apparently, some people do not have the physical capacity in their hands to be a good cigar maker, so they don’t graduate from the program.  Some of them that don’t graduate become leaf pickers, the people who remove the central vein from the tobacco leaf and sorts the leaves by color.  Nothing from the leaf is wasted and the potently fragrant central vein is used to make aftershave and cologne. 

            Every cigar maker has their own specialty, a specific brand of cigar like a Montecristo or a Cohiba that they make every day.  Each tabacanero (tobacco maker) has a certain quota that they have to reach everyday, some have to make 150, some 250, it all depends on your skill level and level of practice.  These highly specialized craftsmen are only paid about 45 dollars a month, but an extra source of income is the three cigars that they get to take home at the end of every work day.  Most of them don’t smoke so they sell them to whomever they can to get some extra money. It was an amazing learning experience and I feel like I can definitely hold my own against my pops now.

Salsa Lessons

            A huge part of life in Cuba is dance.  The people dance, the children dance, when it is hot outside even the air dances.  So it only makes sense that eventually, we would learn to dance.  Our professor set up some lessons with a Cuban woman that he knows who is actually studying to be a priest in the Santería religion but will do odd jobs to make some extra cash.  Today was our lesson, and boy, it was a trip.

            Yaimela, the lady that was teaching us, lives two blocks down from the Floridita, the famous bar that Ernest Hemingway drank at in Old Havana.  We walk in, and it was the first Cuban home that I have ever been in, and I was so surprised by what I saw.  This is a home that is in the middle of Havana, literally a block from the richest and priciest street in the entire city and you would not know that.  We were in their front room the entire time that we were there, roughly an eight by ten room with a concrete floor and exposed wiring.  It reminded me a lot of the houses that we saw while we were in Honduras my senior year on a mission trip.

            No matter what the house was like, Yaimela was a dancing queen.  I always liked to joke with my family that I had the best moves out of any of them, but this girl made me look like I had two left feet and no rhythm.  We learned all the basic steps and I was feeling pretty good about myself, and then Yaimela’s little sister came in.  This twelve year old could move her body like she had no bones and made you wish that you could dance half as well as she could.  By the end of the lesson the whole family was there and we were having a regular old dance party.  I have never perspired so much in my entire life, I swear I thought I was going to pass out.  Did this faze any of the Cubans?  Heck no, they were just getting started.  I am so glad we had the lessons, but I have no idea how these people dance for hours on end, they must be crazy.  But now I know how to salsa, one step closer to becoming Cuban.

The Two-Wheeled City

So yesterday we went on our weekly excursion out of Havana around Cuba.  One of our professors last week joked about the fact that the longer we stay here the more the travel bug infects us and we want to see the rest of the country.  She was so right.  So, as all eight of us piled into the van, we began our four-hour long trek to see more of this sun-drenched country, this time, Santa Clara.

The thing that Santa Clara is most known for is being the home of Che’s great revolutionary victory that ensured the success of the rebel arm against Batista’s army forces.  In late December of 1958, Che moved into the town and started waging war against the army forces that Batista had sent to beef up his last remaining stronghold between the rebel army and Havana.   On December 29, Che ordered a section of rail tracks pulled up with tractors.  That afternoon, the rebel army had attacked to the point that the remaining soldiers fled to an armored train and tried to flee the city for Havana.  The train moved out at tremendous speed and of course derailed in a horrific accident.  With that win over the armed forces, Che captured antiaircraft guns, machine guns, and a huge amount of ammunition.  It was a decisive victory for the rebels.

The train is still in Santa Clara as well as a monument to Che and his museum.  His body is buried there as well, but we didn’t get to see the tomb or the museum, because as luck would have it they were closed.  So we got to see his statue and read the farewell speech that he wrote to Fidel before leaving for Bolivia to start a guerrilla war there.  It was a beautiful spot outside the city and in an appropriately isolated spot (much like the legend himself).  I’ve been reading a biography about him called Che Guevara: A Revolutionary Life by Jon Lee Anderson which at times doubles as a door stop, so this was a great thing to be able to see the tribute to the guy that I’ve been reading so much about.

After the failed museum attempt, we went into the city of Santa Clara and spent some time just walking around and enjoying what the city had to offer.  I was struck by how few cars were actually on the road; most people were either on bicycles or walking.  Santa Clara only has about 150,000 people and is on the interior of Cuba so you can cover a lot of territory with two legs or two wheels.  Interestingly, in all of Havana with its 2 million plus in population, there is not one recognized gay bar.  The gay bar in Santa Clara is known all throughout Cuba and el Mejunje is a center for tolerance and acceptance.  Our professor for our Cuban-US Relations class is actually the one that told us about it and said that we had to go check it out, so now I can say that I have been to Cuba’s one gay bar.

Ballet Nacional de Cuba

            So Friday night we as a group decided that we were going to go to see the National Cuban Ballet that was performing here in Havana.  One of the girls in our group is researching the difference between ballet and salsa in Cuban culture and we all tagged along so that she wouldn’t have to go by herself.  It was a phenomenal time.  We made a whole night of it so we all got all dressed up and went out to eat dinner at this fancy Chinese restaurant with amazingly cheap prizes.  We rode a surprisingly empty bus downtown and got off and paid half price with our student ids and then the magic started. 

We went around the side of the theater and walked up quite a few flights of stairs (there is a reason the tickets were half off) and stepped out into a different time.  The Gran Teatro de La Habana (The Great Theatre of Havana) officially opened in 1838 while Cuba was still under Spanish colonial rule.  It was torn down in 1914, but a lot of the old moldings, the ceiling, and the seats are originals or replicas in the neo-baroque one that is to the right of the capital now.  As such, this building was an architectural gem that over the years has definitely weathered some storms but retained fabulous lines and shouts echoes of the past.  The ornate sculpture, the giant crest set into the moldings, and the worn velvet seats all spoke of a time that has passed and moved on.

            The actual ballet that we saw was the opening night of “La magia de la danza”, which means “The Magic of the Dance”.  It was a hodgepodge of scenes from lots of famous ballets including Giselle, Swan Lake, and the Nutcracker.  My favorite by far though was the Don Quijote scenes.  Last semester I took a class on Cervantes and we read Don Quijote so I literally jumped out of my seat with excitement when the curtain was raised during the second act.  Alicia Alonso, the founder, director, and choreographer for the National Ballet, did an incredible job of giving tribute to this famous Spanish work.  The two scenes from the book that were incorporated were the marriage of Quiteria and Basilio and when Espada and his lover Mercedes arrive at an inn in Castilla.  By far the girl who danced the part of Quiteria, Viengsay Valdés, was the most amazing ballerina I have ever seen.  Her strongest talent was the ability to balance.  She went up on those point shoes and then was a statue and did not flinch for longer than was humanly possible. It was beautiful.

            While I didn’t see my favorite man from la Mancha, Don Quijote, as we were sprinting towards the bus after the ballet ended, I was struck with how well the ballet had shown the struggle that occurs between being Cuban and being Spanish.  Like I said, this was distinctly old world, from the theater to the dancing itself to the fact that it was mostly foreigners watching.  However, Alicia Alonso did a fabulous job by ending the ballet with an expressly Cuban work that incorporated the work of Louis Moreau Gottschalk who wrote his work solely based on Caribbean culture.  It was beautiful and the audience definitely left knowing that Cuban culture was what was here now and while it respected the old world, it fully embraced their new identity.

Acuario Nacional de Cuba

            So this afternoon I decided to take a little solo adventure down the street to the Acuario Nacional de Cuba.  We pass it everyday on the bus ride to and from school and I decided that I could use my Tuesday afternoon in a better way than just getting some sun on our balcony.  Best decision ever.  I love aquariums, always have.  I still remember being on a trip to Boston my junior year of high school and throwing a tantrum that would make a two year old proud because we didn’t get to go and see the turtle exhibit at the aquarium.  Not my most shining moment.

            So as I walked up to the Aquarium, I was struck by the fact that the parking lot was so small.  I lived in Orlando until I was five and Sea World is one of my favorite places.  They have football fields that they have converted into stretches of asphalt so that hordes of tourists can come and see everything.  This parking lot was more along the lines of a Burger King or MacDonalds.  Big difference.

            As I walked up to the counter to pay for my ticket I had to do a double take because I only had to pay about fifty cents.  Fifty cents!  That also included getting to see both the sea lion and dolphin show.  To get into a major attraction in the US, I don’t even remember, easily thirty or forty dollars.  One of the benefits of a communist country is that, based on its principles, prices stay pretty cheap compared to a capitalist country.  But there is definitely a trade off.

            The hardest thing that I saw walking through this sprawling outdoor complex was the fact that so many of the attractions were shut down and boarded up.  Here is where the trade off comes into play because the prices are cheap compared to that of a capitalist country but the people still cannot afford them.  So no one comes and they cant keep the attractions open.  I was one of maybe twenty or thirty people walking around.  Compared to any kind of theme park or aquarium in the US, it was as if it was closed. 

            All of this made me realize that in a communist country, no one is competing for attention.  There is no drive to make it the best and most appealing park.  As I was standing outside of one of the tanks of the sea lions, I kept watching it circle around the tank again and again, stopping to touch its nose to the corner of the glass in the same place over and over no matter how many people tapped on the glass or tried to get its attention.  It struck me that so many people here are like that. They keep going through the motions, repeating the same monotonous task.  It was one of the saddest things that I had ever seen because life isn’t meant to be lived that way.  Not at all.  The strangest part was that it was right on the ocean, literally, there was a place that you could go for a swim.  This beautiful, amazing view of the rough seas and no one was there to appreciate the splendor.  It broke my heart, for the first time, my heart broke for the people of Cuba.

Change of Plans

             So last Saturday we were supposed to go and see a botanical farm close to Havana that had all kinds of lions, elephants, basically a zoo, but they didn’t call it that.  But, in true Cuban fashion the van broke down and we couldn’t go.  I say in true Cuban fashion because our driver, Jefe, only says that the van breaks down when he is either too hung-over and doesn’t want to drive, or he has found a way to make more money than we would have paid him for the trip.  So needless to say, we didn’t go to the botanical farm.

            However, the day wasn’t wasted and we did go get to go and see the Marti Tower instead.  The Marti Tower is a monument, much like the Jefferson or Washington ones in D.C.  We avoided countless flights of stairs by all squeezing into a tiny elevator with a very chatty lady who asked us all kinds of questions.  I’m beginning to think that all Cubans have a never-ending supply of questions that they go through every time that they meet a new person. 

            Anyways, once we got to the top the view was incredible.  You could see the entire bay, Old Havana, Vedado where the University is, Miramar where we live, absolutely everything.  Apparently, there is another building in Havana that is taller than the Marti tower, but it is closer to the ocean and closer to sea level so the Tower has a higher altitude.  I’ve never been in the Space Needle in Seattle, but I doubt that the view is as good as this one was.  And the water, I’ve never seen an ocean so blue and so integrated into a big city.  I’ve of course seen the Great Lakes as I have flown into Chicago, but it was different seeing the ocean fighting for dominance and the city not giving an inch.

            In our conversation class today we actually got to talk about visiting it for a little while and I learned even more about the tower itself.  The Cubans like to call the tower either the Mirador, which roughly translated means the looking place, or La Raspadura.  Now, raspadura is actually a dessert created with the stem of the sugar cane and a caramelized glaze.  I’ve never had it before but I am definitely going to try to find some soon.  It was an interesting sensation learning about the pet names that the people of Havana call the monuments around town.   I felt like I was becoming a Habanera (girl from Havana).  I’ve never lived in a big city so it was one of the first times that I have felt a sense of knowing a place intimately.  More places to explore soon!

Orishas

            Thursday, yesterday, we had our weekly trip discovering Havana.  This week we went to this little place right across from the capitol building called El Museo de las Orishas (The Museum of the Orishas).  I didn’t know until right before we went that Orishas were what the followers of Santería called their gods.  Santería is not quite voodoo but very similar and has its roots in the same tribes in Africa.  I had absolutely no idea what to expect, anywhere from chickens being sacrificed right in front of me to movies about people being possessed to an art museum.  I literally had no clue what I was getting myself into.

            Thankfully there were no chicken sacrifices going on and definitely no possessions.  We ended up on the second floor of a restored colonial building with giant vaulted ceilings that  had echoes from the 1800s around every corner.  Lined up against all of the walls were statues of all of these different gods with their corresponding information displayed for all to see.  I was confused because I thought that they must have been artist renderings because, well, who can know exactly what any god looks like?  Apparently though, the Yoruba people, who were the first practitioners of Santería in Cuba, had recognizable gods that maintained the same features throughout the history of the religion.  Even after slave owners and the church had tried to erase all of their ties with their home Africa, these gods survived.

            One thing that I had not realized was so prevalent was the syncretism that went on between Santería and the Catholic faith.  I did not grow up Catholic, so I’ve never really been exposed to saints and the role that they play in the Catholic Church.  It was amazing to see that each one of these black, tribal gods had a parallel saint in the Catholic faith.  I don’t know how I would feel about that if I was a Catholic today and especially if I had been Catholic back then.  I was a little confused by the whole idea of syncretism and how each god corresponded to a saint, but this religion has managed to survive some of the most difficult trials.  They definitely have my respect if not my full comprehension.

            The last thing that grabbed my attention was the fact that each god seemed to come from a certain and different part of Africa.  Apparently, the slave trade mostly brought peoples from the middle area of Africa but that still encompassed a lot of territory.  So once all of these slaves arrived here, they contributed their own gods and Santería became a blend of the gods from all different religions.  As a result of this, there is a lot of overlap.  For instance there were two gods of the sea, but one was for the deep parts of the sea and the other one was for the surface and shallow areas.  Lots of repetition and very interesting. 

No Christmas in Cuba

            So last Tuesday, February 15, for our roundtable class we visited with and got to listen to Father José Felix who is the priest at Santa Rita, a church about 20 blocks from where we live.  What he shared with us was incredibly interesting and shed a lot of light on what life was like for a priest as well as many aspects of Cuban life.

            The most shocking and saddening thing that he shared with us was that Cubans do not celebrate Christmas. The government has celebrated it once in the fifty years since the revolution, in 1997.  The Cuban people are more than willing to and try to celebrate Christmas, but it is not a government-sanctioned holiday. So, as a result, there is still class at the universities and all of the state-run businesses (which are almost all of the businesses in the country) are still open.  These people are living on thirty US dollars a month, so they cannot afford to take time off to celebrate a holiday all about buying presents.

            Growing up I watched a lot of movies so often I relate real life to the silver screen and vice versa.  One of my favorite movies is The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe.  In this movie the evil White Witch has frozen Narnia and it is always winter but never Christmas.  When Aslan, the hero and savior of Narnia comes back, one of the first signs that the White Witch has lost her power is that Santa Claus comes to Narnia.  Cuba is obviously not a frozen wasteland, but in a lot of ways it is a country frozen in time.  It is paralyzed, without the infrastructure to continue to support existing business and lacking the ability to progress.  So some parallels between the movie and real life are clear.

            But back to what Father José said about Christmas.  I know that in the United States Christmas has become an excuse for overindulgence and wastefulness as a substitute for expressing inexpressible emotions for loved ones, but that is not what it is supposed to be about.  It is supposed to be a chance for people of all ages, all demographics, from all corners of the globe to celebrate the birth of a little boy who would change the world.  It is as if this country is frozen in a perpetual state of winter, but never get the chance to experience the hope and joy that come with Christmas.  I wish that I had been here at Christmas though because I am beginning to know the Cuban people a little bit more and I am beginning to understand that if anything, they are a people of hope and joy.  I wish I could have seen how they reacted to and celebrated this global holiday.

Orquideario

Today, Saturday, was our traditional long excursion to discover more of Cuba than just Havana.  We went Soroa a very small town in the western part of the island.  We stayed in one central location for the most part, and we got to see a giant waterfall, climb a mountain and go to an orchid farm.

            The first thing that we did once we got to the area was to start a long trek to go and see a waterfall.  Now, I believe that there is a push in the United States for major landscapes to be made visible to as many people as possible.  Whether that be that you can drive up to it, boat up to it, or do the minimum amount of walking possible, you still get there.  Not so in Cuba.  If you want to see awe-inspiring views then you are going to have to work for them.  So we began the terrifyingly steep trek down to see this astounding natural phenomenon.  Once we got to the bottom it was incredible because you could clamber and rock-bound to your hearts content.  If you wanted to get behind it you could.  No one was there to make sure that you weren’t an idiot and did something to hurt yourself.  Quite refreshing.

I was operating under the misconception that the orchid farm (called an Orquideario) was at the top of this giant mountain. Nope, just a really amazing spot to take videos and pictures.  So I hiked up a mountain in Cuba, never done that before and hopefully never will do that again!  I was amazed to see when I got to the top that these men had hauled up massive quantities of water and goods for people to buy once they reached the top.  I literally have absolutely no idea how they managed that. 

So after we hiked up the giant mountain, we went to the orchard farm.  Señor Tómas Felipe Camacho built it in honor of his daughter Pilar who died during his wife’s miscarriage.  I have never seen so many beautiful, delicate flowers and smelled such a heady scent. It actually in recent years has been turned into a Botanical Garden so it had many exotic varieties of plants that I could not name in English or in Spanish.  One interesting thing that I found out was that orchids have to be grown in an environment of 80-90% humidity.  While Cuba is generally a humid country, they still needed to use green houses (viberos) in order to maintain an ideal growing environment.  The whole garden was such an amazing analogy for Cuba and the fact that it has suffered through so many trials (the current government being its most recent trial) but it still is one of the headiest and most exquisite cultures I have ever come into contact with.

Museo de Arte Europeo

            Yesterday was our weekly day of adventure with our Professor within the city of Havana.  This Thursday we had to go and give fingerprints for immigration purposes so we decided to go to the Museum of European Art that is right nearby.  I absolutely loved this museum.  It was an incredibly different experience from the museum of Cuban Art.  Let me explain why.

            The Cuban Art Museum is in an area that is still in Old Havana, but it is away from the capitol and the central square.  Facing the entrance to the Cuban Museum is all the tanks and planes and boats that Castro and his forces used during the Revolution.  You can see the capitol and the central square from the European Art Museum’s front door.  So already these two museums show a contrast just in their location.  Interestingly, the Cuban Art Museum only had three floors of works while the European Art Museum had five.  Granted, every floor was home to different styles of works, Greek, Etruscan, French, Italian, but I think it said a lot about how much other countries affect Cuba.  Interestingly, there was even a section for work from the United States.  Yes, it was the tiniest section, but it was there. 

             Another thing that really struck me as I was going through the European Museum was that the building itself was a piece of artwork.  It was a colonial building and had an intense amount of detail in its architecture alone.  The Cuban Museum was very much a more modern museum that had no ornate scrollwork on top of columns, or painted vaulted ceilings.  If I had to put it into American terms, it would be like going to a contemporary art museum versus a traditional museum. 

            One thing that I love about all of the museums that I have been to in Cuba is that in every room there are people.  Just sitting or standing around to make sure that no one touches or harms the works.  Honestly, I can’t remember if there are these people in museums in the US but all I do remember is that if there were, they were unapproachable.  Here, these people love for you to ask them questions.  I was in the French section in the Museum and I spent the entire time just in that room talking to Rafael and Yolaida.  About a French work and French art in general, about a German work that they both liked, about Cuba and US relations.  We had dinner last night with a gentleman named Israel who said that Cuba’s national sport is not baseball.  Baseball is Cuba’s national pastime, talking is Cuba’s national sport.  So very true and I cannot wait to get to go back to the Museum and talk some more!

Food for Thought

            So as I said before, you cannot buy fresh produce in the supermarkets in Havana and I just wanted to give a little update on how the whole process works for consumption of fruits and vegetables.  I would like to preface this by saying that nothing in the United States, not even farmer’s markets compare to going to the market in Cuba.

            Our market is located about 20 or so blocks from our hotel and it takes about 20 to 30 minutes to walk there on a good day.  After we work out at the gym next to our hotel and get our butts kicked by the five-foot Spanish Nazi it definitely takes longer.  Walking there with one of the blond girls in our group is also always an adventure.  She is a rarity in this dark-skinned and dark-eyed country, so we get the gamut of marriage proposals to words that I will not repeat.  Last time we went we got three I love you’s from random strangers.

            That is just the process to get there.  The first time that we got to the market it was like sheep walking into a lion’s den.  Everything from our pasty white skin to our clothes yelled out that we weren’t from around these parts and a “Take Advantage Of” sticker was slapped on our heads.  The first time that I bought a pineapple from anyone I was charged twice what the going rate was.  I fared much better than my two roommates where were robbed blind because their language skills were a little bit rougher than mine. 

            Good news, however, that on that first day we managed to make some friends.  One older gentleman named Gabriel, who was the only one in the whole place who spoke English mind you, took my two girlfriends under his wing and explained to them what everything was.  I really appreciated his help because there are vegetables and fruits that I have never seen before in varying shades of ripeness!  A bonato is a mix between a sweet potato and a potato but it is white.  A malanga is a potato like root but has no flavor what so ever and is pink.  Plantains, which you get at most Cuban restaurants in the US, are actually called platanos that translated means bananas!

            The greatest thing about this market though is that all of these men (you only buy from opposite gender because otherwise you’ll get ripped off) are willing to help us and talk to us.  Yes many of them have asked us to go get coffee with them, some have proposed marriage, but overall, we have some really great guys that are willing to explain things to us and to help us.  The Cubans like to say that only our governments have problems, and in the market, I’ve never felt that that was more true. Paulo is my special market helper and last time I went he taught me a trick in that you rip the tops off of the pineapples so that they weigh less and you don’t pay for a part that you don’t eat. 

            If I learn anymore tricks I’ll be sure and post updates! 

Viñales

             Saturday’s are our days off from class that we use to travel around the great country of Cuba.  At the bright shiny hour of 8 o’clock, Profe took us to the great city of Viñales, about two hours west of Havana.  Within the span of about four hours, we had toured a tobacco farm where they dried tobacco for cigars, seen the mogotes, walked through a cave that was a hideout and escape route for runaway slaves, and taken a boat ride in an subterranean cavern.

            The tobacco farm wasn’t actually in the city of Viñales, but about 25 kilometers outside right on the side of the highway.  Our driver, Jefe, knew this particular farmer and stopped there because Jefe gets free corn from him in return for bringing tourists.  This was one of the most eye-opening experiences that I fully did not expect to be interesting at all.  Tobacco is planted during September, November, sometimes even in December in Cuba and then after three months is harvested.  The farm that we went to had two different stages already harvested and one more that would be harvested sometime in the coming weeks.  When the tobacco is harvested two leaves are tied together at the stems and then tied to a piece of string and strung over a pole to be hung on one of thirteen levels in a drying shed.  You would expect the smell of tobacco to be overwhelming when you walk into these sheds (some of which are glorified huts).  However, that was not the case at all.  After the tobacco reached the perfect form of “seco”, or dry, they would be tied into giant bundles and shipped to a factory where women trained by years of practice would pick out which leaves were to be used for which type of cigar, based of course on quality and size.  I’ll continue the explanation of this process once we go to the factory where they process the tobacco and roll the cigars!

            The next place that we went was to the top of this mountain to see what the Cubans call “mogotes”.  Mogotes are these plateau-like mountains that have nearly sheer cliffs that rise almost a mile straight up.  They were formed when giant slabs of stone rotated from their original positions in the bedrock and were forced upwards rapidly causing a sheering sensation.  Of course, this whole process took place thousands of years ago so weathering and tree growth has diminished their grandeur a little bit, but believe me they are still incredibly intimidating.  Also, the weather was bad today with lots of rain and mist and fog so it felt like we were in the middle of a Jurassic Park movie. 

            The last two places we went to were actually caves underneath two mogotes that slaves used to hideout from plantation owners.  The first one was an intense maze that if I had been running away and fearing for my life I know that I would have gotten lost in right away.  The stalactites and stalagmites were INTENSE!  The second one that we went to was just as much of a maze, but at the end of the maze was a river that ran from underground the mogote all the way to the ocean.  Slaves running away from abusive plantation managers would use these caves in the exact same way as the slaves in the United States used the Underground Railroad, so it was an interesting similarity of a harsh time during both of Cuba and the United States history.

Las Damas Blancas

A little background history so that everyone gets the context of the Damas Blancas.  In the spring of 2002, there was a protest against the Castro regime.  It included close to 75 professors, lawyers, writers, artists, a lot of intellectuals. Well Castro did NOT like it, and threw all of them in jail. A lot of them were the breadwinners for their families, and it caused a big vacuum in Havana society. The people here call it “Primavera Negra”, or Black Spring.

            Now getting to the Damas Blancas. These women are based out of a church called Santa Rita, which is very close to where we live.  Twenty or so blocks away, about a twenty-five minute walk.  These are all kinds of women, from all walks of life who know the story behind the unreasonable detention of these intellectuals and have decided to lodge a continuous peaceful protest since that point.  Every Sunday these women come out of Santa Rita with a single white flower for each of the detainees and shout “¡Libertad, Libertad!”  During the rest of the week they wear all white as they go about their daily lives.  This has been going on for the nine years since Castro put the intellectuals in jail.

            About a year ago, El Presidente decided that he was going to put a stop to this and that these women were causing too much trouble.  So, one Sunday in the middle of spring, Father Jose Felix gave his mass and then the service dismissed.  These women exited the church to be confronted with a horde of Castro’s thugs.  None of them were police and none of them said that they were from the government but they kept the women blockaded for over two hours.  Lots of threats were yelled, they were called whores, none of them were allowed to leave and all sorts of awful things happened.  Well eventually, one passed out and an ambulance had to be called.

            The police finally showed up after the ambulance had been called and the horde went scrambling but the trials were not over for the Damas Blancas.  They were told that they were the cause of the incident and they were pushed and beaten into trucks by the police and taken to their homes and put under house arrest.

            The next Sunday, the Cardinal of Havana, the most high-ranking figure in the Catholic Church in Cuba came to Santa Rita and gave the sermon.  After he was finished, he made a public promise to all that were in the congregation that nothing like what had happened the previous week would ever happen again.  In this country, that is like throwing down the gauntlet and asking Castro to pick it up.  Miraculously though, whether it was due to pressure from the public, the Vatican, or just his own whims, Castro began to release the prisoners and let all of the Damas Blancas off of house arrest.  Not all of the prisoners have been released, but it is a slow process to readmit known dissenters back into the general population of a communist country. 

            This is the project that I am working on all semester, so I will give more updates soon!

El Museo de Arte Cubana

            On Thursday we went to the Museo de Arte Cubana, which for all you monolinguals out there means Museum of Cuban Art.  It was an incredible institution and was definitely on par with any of the art museums that I have been to in the United States.  It is definitely a gem of Havana that has been preserved through many, many trials.  Interestingly, right across the street is the Museum of the Revolution, which is an outdoor museum that has all of the different vehicles and weapons used during the Revolution.

            Once inside, we began on the top floor and worked our way down from the Colonial period, to the post-Colonial and finally to the post-Revolution period.  All of the colonial artwork was very similar to a lot of the colonial works from the United States with a lot of portraits of important people and a lot of landscapes. 

            One of the greatest works that I saw was called “La Siesta” by Guillermo Collazo.  This was an awesome work because it showed a lot of the dichotomy between an island nation like Cuba being conquered and colonized by a highly developed nation like Spain.  Look it up and see how the opulence and formal nature of the rug and the girl’s dress are contrasted with the simple nature of the adobe structure and the abundance of plants.  It is also really interesting that a painting that is supposed to be about resting actually has so much activity going on in it.  The agitated leaves blowing across the floor, the crashing waves, not so restful.  Definitely a metaphor for the fact that this Spanish woman has been uprooted from her life and placed in a country that is unlike anything she has ever known.

            Then we moved into the post-Colonial period and I loved this painting by Manuel Vega called “Caravana de Ciegos”.  Ciegos in Spanish means blind people and if you Google it, you will be struck with the same sense of irony as I was.  In this painting, the blind were leading the blind!  During the post-Colonial period, the general international attitude towards Cuba was exactly the theme of this work.  The general sentiment was that everyone, most predominately the United States, had to keep coming in and cleaning up the messes that it got itself in to. 

            There were lots of other great works to, but I’m quickly running out of time, so come and visit and I’ll take you guys to see all the other fabulous things in this wonderful country!

Hemmingway House

Hemmingway House

So Saturday we traveled to the house of the famous novelist, Ernest Hemmingway.  I personally have never read any of his works, but as he is such a famous person in this country (even more so than in the US I would say) that might have to change soon.  The first town that we visited was called Cojimar, which is a tiny fishing town about thirty minutes from downtown Havana.  One of our taxi drivers, the infamous ladies man Marci, told us that this was just an average town for Cuba and not one of the poorest.  By American standards, people would not travel there at night.  It would be considered worse than the projects.  But in Cuba, it’s just another town.

Back to Hemingway’s story, he loved this town and it was where he kept his boat Pilar.  We went to one of the many bars that he loved to frequent all over the island.  The people of Cojimar loved him so much that they mined enough metal to have a statue of him cast and erected.  Not too shabby for an American.  Interestingly, I discovered that Hemmingway had a chauffer so that he could drink wherever he went and he had a boat driver so that he could maintain a habitual state of intoxication. 

After visiting Cojimar, we traveled an additional 20 minutes and arrived at the Museo de Hemmingway.  This place is a palace by Cuban standards.  He lived there even after the revolution because he was a Castro man.  He hated Bautista and completely supported the Revolution. J. Edgar Hoover had a giant file on him because he was such a fervent supporter of the communist regime here. 

Three things that stood out the most.  One, there was a boys baseball team practicing in his front yard.  Two, I saw the pool that Ava Gardner swam naked in.  And three, Hemmingway had four dogs, two of which were named Black and Negrita. (Negrita means little black one)  For someone who is considered one of the greatest writers of all time, he wasn’t too creative on the names of man’s best friend.

Hemmingway was apparently fastidious about his weight and always worried about what women thought of him.  On one of the interior walls there is a column of numbers where he kept track so he could motivate himself to lose more weight.  We just heard about this because you aren’t allowed inside the house, only around the outside to look through the windows.  Worried that Americans are going to get crazy ideas into their heads and steal everything.

The last interesting tid-bit from this American is that Hemmingway carried a gun when he went fishing so that he could kill sharks!

Cuba!!!

So Cuba...

I’m here, have been here for a week, and I already don’t want to leave.  There are colors everywhere!  I have seen at least four different flowering shrubs that I have never seen before in my life, and even the trees here bloom!  To live in the Caribbean my entire life, oh what a blessing that would be!

Even more colorful than the flowers are the people.  Being an American I totally expected everyone to be hostile towards us.  I could not have been more wrong.  We had a taxi driver two days ago whose name was Raul Luis who said that it was only our governments that kept our two cultures apart.  Cubans love Americans, at least that’s what he said in Spanish. 

            We start classes tomorrow, so this past week all we’ve been doing is setting up our apartments and exploring the city.  It sounds simple, but in a communist country it is definitely harder than it seems.  We went to the supermarket which is entirely different than anything I’ve ever experienced.  Brands? What are those?  It blew my mind because the shelves were full, but it was shelf upon shelf and row upon row of, for example, the same can of olives.  I would have taken a picture but you are only allowed a wallet inside.  There are also days when they just don’t have things, for example, Tuesday you can’t buy salt.  Toilet paper? Forget it.

            There is no fresh produce in the “supermercado” (supermarket), you have to buy everything in roadside stands.  Slightly sketchy until you take the first bite of a fresh pineapple and then you wonder how you’ve lived your life without it.  It’s winter here, so they are in their third cycle in the growing season and fruit isn’t as good as the vegetables are.  We’ve had to experiment with four or five different potatoes because they have so many variations of sweet potatoes and potatoes. 

            Exploring the city has been a blast, a bit difficult because my Spanish is slightly rusty but getting better with more practice.  Riding the bus has been the most eye-opening experience while I’ve been here by far.  Cubans say that the bus system is like an R-rated movie, with all the sex, violence, and strong language associated with it.  Space is a commodity that is not in big supply, and you make friends quickly.

            More about the specific places we have traveled to follow!