Shortly, I will post a followup on my last week in Cuba and my bizarre transition back to the United States
thanks!
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Another belated 4/23
Today we began our last program trip, traveling three hours or so from Havana to Pinar del Rio city in its namesake province. This trip we traveled with a member of PC’s abroad programs office. So, while she had questions and was interested in the dialogue our tour guide microphone’d through the bus, we had heard it before and enjoyed the scenery more I think. When we got to Pinar del Rio we drove to a horse ranch for lunch. got Cuban lobster for lunch. Now, I know am quite spoiled when it comes to lobster being from Portland and working on the waterfront, and even more so having family who host me for a mean lobster cookout every summer. Cuban lobster is good- there is a lot of meat, and they are very big and not very expensive but I am faithfully partial to the Maine lobster. It has more flavor and a softer meat. We did see a lobster on our first dive however, and I must admit the Cuban lobster wins for looks.
After lunch we got a quick tour of the place. The place is an eco-tourist ranch where hundreds of horses are bred. It was really pretty. On our walking tour we got to try a almond straight off the tree (well, after the seed had fallen off the tree). Then we walked to the spot where they train cock-roosters for fighting. Normally, this is highly illegal (especially gambling which is so often associated with cock fighting). The ranch has a special license because the roosters are used for breeding, and they told us something about how they should be strong and the winners for breeding optimization. Gambling on the fights is still strictly forbidden. It was kind of interesting to see how they were trained, but I never want to see a cock fight to the death. When we got back to the center I opted for a boat ride instead of another horse ride. It was very pleasant.
From the start of this trip we have had some trouble breaking free from the tourist stereotype to the student resident one. It is a constant struggle. At dinner we got to know our tour guide a little more. He taught us a few jokes. He, like practically all of our others, used to teach foreign languages at the University before changing to the tourist sector.
At dinner we also discussed our impending departure date. Diana, the woman from PC, asked us if there was any food we were going to miss especially. Besides fresh fruit and fresh baked bread, there really isn’t much food I will miss here. I will miss so many people, and so much about the culture, but the food is one aspect of the culture for which my love has not ‘ripened’ with time. The fact that none of us really predict missing the food gave us the idea of blogging about things we will not miss, rather than just the things we will especially miss. It is an interesting idea I would like to try if I have time in the next week. We’ll see. Now I’m back in the Pinar del Rio hotel room… which is right above the pool… which is currently the setting of a raging musical night out. It is quite loud and the water in my water bottle is rippling from the bass. Enough for now- enjoy your-selves readers!
After lunch we got a quick tour of the place. The place is an eco-tourist ranch where hundreds of horses are bred. It was really pretty. On our walking tour we got to try a almond straight off the tree (well, after the seed had fallen off the tree). Then we walked to the spot where they train cock-roosters for fighting. Normally, this is highly illegal (especially gambling which is so often associated with cock fighting). The ranch has a special license because the roosters are used for breeding, and they told us something about how they should be strong and the winners for breeding optimization. Gambling on the fights is still strictly forbidden. It was kind of interesting to see how they were trained, but I never want to see a cock fight to the death. When we got back to the center I opted for a boat ride instead of another horse ride. It was very pleasant.
From the start of this trip we have had some trouble breaking free from the tourist stereotype to the student resident one. It is a constant struggle. At dinner we got to know our tour guide a little more. He taught us a few jokes. He, like practically all of our others, used to teach foreign languages at the University before changing to the tourist sector.
At dinner we also discussed our impending departure date. Diana, the woman from PC, asked us if there was any food we were going to miss especially. Besides fresh fruit and fresh baked bread, there really isn’t much food I will miss here. I will miss so many people, and so much about the culture, but the food is one aspect of the culture for which my love has not ‘ripened’ with time. The fact that none of us really predict missing the food gave us the idea of blogging about things we will not miss, rather than just the things we will especially miss. It is an interesting idea I would like to try if I have time in the next week. We’ll see. Now I’m back in the Pinar del Rio hotel room… which is right above the pool… which is currently the setting of a raging musical night out. It is quite loud and the water in my water bottle is rippling from the bass. Enough for now- enjoy your-selves readers!
4/23/10
It is incredible how quickly things flew by as I approached my departure date, may 3rd. One culprit was another weekend program excursion. This trip brought me back to Vinales, which I did not mind one bit. Unfortunately, while we had planned to go to a cooperative, we were unable because ‘we needed to have been invited’. We have had to go through quite a few hurtles to arrange any of our visits as Americans. Our tour guide told us how he finds most Americans he guides (more people travel from the US to Cuba than one might think) want more than just tourist facts from his spiel. He was impressed and appreciative of this fact, but I pessimistically believe he just doesn’t see many Americans tourist- and that the americans he meets are there for non-tourist reasons. I meet a ton of american tourists when working at Becky's Diner and more often than not are content to just hear the same old spiel- and they don't desire variance from the standard guide book write up.
We also visited a town dedicated to eco-tourism (which I found a little strange to be honest) called Las Terrazas. The place is a small gorgeous town where they have tiered the landscape for urban environmental development, but there really is no difference in how the people of las Terrazas live or function as a community compared to the rest of Cuba besides the fact that they all depend on the eco-tourism industry. A highlight of Las terrazas included a vegetarian restaurant (an incredible score that we were very excited about). We invited our tour guide to join us, but he declined saying it would just make him want pork after. Las terrazas also had a swimming hole where we watched some locals dare eachother to dive from the ledges.
We also visited a town dedicated to eco-tourism (which I found a little strange to be honest) called Las Terrazas. The place is a small gorgeous town where they have tiered the landscape for urban environmental development, but there really is no difference in how the people of las Terrazas live or function as a community compared to the rest of Cuba besides the fact that they all depend on the eco-tourism industry. A highlight of Las terrazas included a vegetarian restaurant (an incredible score that we were very excited about). We invited our tour guide to join us, but he declined saying it would just make him want pork after. Las terrazas also had a swimming hole where we watched some locals dare eachother to dive from the ledges.
Monday, May 31, 2010
April 20b 2010
Tuesday, the 20th of April marked my last diving adventure (in Cuba : ( ). Our driver (a friend of the previous one) seemed a bit nervous, and when asked, admitted he hadn’t slept much the night before because he was preoccupied with the idea of crabs crossing the road and of flat tires. In any case, we got off to a much earlier start and arrived about two hours earlier than the previous time, taking far fewer crab lives in the process. The visitors from Presbyterian College brought me an underwater camera p’ my request and I couldn’t wait to go. The first dive, honestly, was a bit of a disaster. Everything had gone so swimmingly (sorry! Pun intended) the dive the week before that I wasn’t expecting such setbacks. First I had a hard time equalizing and had to slow my descent considerably. Then, though I didn’t realize it until I surfaced later, I got a bloody nose during the middle of the dive. My underwater camera wasn’t working for me, and I just couldn’t get into the feeling.
An hour later, after a pick me up of some wheat thins I brought from home which I shared with my diving buddies (they thought they were very strangely colored for crackers,’ but… yeah, I’ll take some more…’) I was feeling a bit more optimistic. Coco told me not to worry- we would take a slow descent and the bloody nose was nothing to be concerned about even if it came back during the second dive. At first my ear killed. I was worried I wasn’t going to be able to dive at all to be honest. But with some patience and time, we managed to go down quite a few meters and eventually made it to the terrace edge. This last dive felt really, really solid. I feel like I can control myself and navigate in and around the reef beds. When we were in a patch reef Coco directed our attention to a large barracuda not too far in the distance. We swam slowly up to it, and it watched us with a wide toothy grin. We got about two meters away and I snapped a picture. Then we decided to move on… I was feeling uneasy because I had the inkling that my bloody nose had come back and I could only imagine the starter course a whiff of that might provide this meat loving fish. After we had swum a bit we turned around to see the barracuda had followed us a short ways. The next scene was pretty hilarious. Simultaneously and as if on cue, Katie, Orlando and Coco all pointed at each other. “Take them, not me!”, they signaled to the fish. It left us alone when we couldn’t reach a sacrificial consensus.
The dives were amazing. I hope my pictures came out and I’m so grateful to have had the camera. When I was younger I would dream of having the ability to fly and to my surprise, diving has given me that sensation. I predict I will thrist for flying…or rather, diving this summer. I am going to look into doing it in Portland. We grabbed a sandwich and some ice cream for lunch on the way home and joked with each other on the ride. I am going to miss a lot of Cubans when I leave this place, but my diving team is definitely high on that list.
An hour later, after a pick me up of some wheat thins I brought from home which I shared with my diving buddies (they thought they were very strangely colored for crackers,’ but… yeah, I’ll take some more…’) I was feeling a bit more optimistic. Coco told me not to worry- we would take a slow descent and the bloody nose was nothing to be concerned about even if it came back during the second dive. At first my ear killed. I was worried I wasn’t going to be able to dive at all to be honest. But with some patience and time, we managed to go down quite a few meters and eventually made it to the terrace edge. This last dive felt really, really solid. I feel like I can control myself and navigate in and around the reef beds. When we were in a patch reef Coco directed our attention to a large barracuda not too far in the distance. We swam slowly up to it, and it watched us with a wide toothy grin. We got about two meters away and I snapped a picture. Then we decided to move on… I was feeling uneasy because I had the inkling that my bloody nose had come back and I could only imagine the starter course a whiff of that might provide this meat loving fish. After we had swum a bit we turned around to see the barracuda had followed us a short ways. The next scene was pretty hilarious. Simultaneously and as if on cue, Katie, Orlando and Coco all pointed at each other. “Take them, not me!”, they signaled to the fish. It left us alone when we couldn’t reach a sacrificial consensus.
The dives were amazing. I hope my pictures came out and I’m so grateful to have had the camera. When I was younger I would dream of having the ability to fly and to my surprise, diving has given me that sensation. I predict I will thrist for flying…or rather, diving this summer. I am going to look into doing it in Portland. We grabbed a sandwich and some ice cream for lunch on the way home and joked with each other on the ride. I am going to miss a lot of Cubans when I leave this place, but my diving team is definitely high on that list.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
22 de Abril
The last couple days have truly been a whirlwind of activity. I am getting very concerned about leaving this place so soon. I feel like a quarter of the time, when I’m smooshed into a crevice on the bus, as I leave the grocery store empty handed, or I see a new tourist checking into the hometel, I can’t wait to leave. But the majority of the time it is just the opposite. Today as I rode a maquina to a Cuban friend’s house it struck me just how little time I have left here in this country. While my list of things to do is not very long (drink a mojito- Check! on the malecon-Check!) I have come to the conclusion that I could stay here for an extended period of time and be happy. My time here is running out! I write this fifteen minutes before midnight, after which I will have exactly 11 days left in my study abroad experience. Of course the fact that we filled out course and program evaluations today did not help to give the feeling of longevity to my stay here.
I feel very guilty for getting so behind on this blog. The girls and I recently hosted a few professors and directors from Presbyterian College (the college who runs this study abroad program). I had a similar experience to the time when I sat in on the intermediate Spanish class. We found ourselves explaining the intricacies of Cuban life and culture to these visiting professors of history. While I certainly do not profess to know all there is to know about Cuba (I am SO far from that reality), I felt, to an extent, that I had gained a more profound understanding of how society functions here and it was pretty validating to explain what I do know to our visitors. They also took us out to dinner which was a welcome break from our unvarying meals. Interestingly, we ended up at one of the restaurants we went to during orientation. It was another serendipitous moment to see just how far we have come from our original naivety.
4/18/10
Yesterday I was walking through old Havana with some of the group. Beautiful ladies- a guy called. We tuned it out and kept walking. ‘Ugly ladies!’ he shouted. We looked over our shoulder… excuse me? ‘See, ‘beautiful ladies’ you do nothing’ he said, ‘ugly ladies you turn around’’. He got us. Kudos for wit.
We went to an artisians market (which was huge). I’d really like to buy and bring home a painting. I find, however, that when I’m at the vendors’ stalls and people are trying to get me to buy their goods, I loose all perspective. Why would anyone want to buy this art that they sell at literally every stall here, I wonder. But when I’m home I’ll wonder, ‘god, why didn’t I buy that art, I’ll never have that opportunity again, for sure! In any case, I’m sitting on it- I’ll go back if I need to buy anything.
We went to an artisians market (which was huge). I’d really like to buy and bring home a painting. I find, however, that when I’m at the vendors’ stalls and people are trying to get me to buy their goods, I loose all perspective. Why would anyone want to buy this art that they sell at literally every stall here, I wonder. But when I’m home I’ll wonder, ‘god, why didn’t I buy that art, I’ll never have that opportunity again, for sure! In any case, I’m sitting on it- I’ll go back if I need to buy anything.
April 15th. written in Cuba posted in the US
Normal routine of class, reading, an adventure at the market and cooking dinner today. I think I am becoming a better cook because we’ve gotten sick of eating just rice or just pasta for dinner.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
4.14.10
A long post about SCUBA Diving.
Yesterday was Katie and my first excursion to Playa Giron to go diving and it was INCREDIBLE. I had been impressed with the corals just on the other side of the wall surrounding Havana city, but the sceneries below the waves at Punto Perdiz and by Cuevo de Los Peces were mind-blowing.
Katie and I got up early and drove with Eduardo (our chofe) to CIM where we met our diving instructors. We packed up the van full of air and wetsuits and set off...only to get a completely flat tire thirty minutes away. After searching for a tire-fixer (a ponchero) we replaced it with a spare but returned to the city to secure another spare. Admittedly, I was impatient to be back on the road; we had been hoping to fit two dives into the day and we seemed to be wasting much of the morning. It was past nine by the time we truly left the city. But, as promised, Eduardo drove quickly and we arrived just before lunch time. When we got off the main road we began to notice more and more large crabs by the road. A kilometer later, it seemed to get pretty bad. Eduardo had to jerk the van out of the way of the crustaceans. We tried honking at them to get them out of the way, but soon determined crabs have a poor sense of hearing. There were several casualties. Katie had driven in the region the week before and told us how it had been much worse for her, she had taken many crab lives and felt very bad about it. On the bright side, we didn’t seem to make a dent in their population numbers. When we arrived at our dive site we were told to watch out for the crabs- ‘what crabs?’ I joked. They crawled around and over our stuff, waving at us in a mean warning. I could not have been more excited to leave them behind and see the creatures in the inviting blue water beyond them.
We suited up, jumped in and swam out a bit. It was difficult to wait. The patch reefs came all the way to the rocky shoreline. Close to shore we saw beautiful parrot fish males and were surrounded by sturgeon fish (I think!). Finally, we were ready to dive. I have had some problems with equalizing my ears so we agreed to take an especially slow ascent but still planned to go down about 20 meters. Down we went, I followed our instructor Coco, and Katie and Orlando weren’t far behind us. We swam through some of the mixed -reef patches towards the terrace edge. It was spectacular! Abruptly the plate seemed to drop away to deeper than I could see. Open Ocean was before us, and a colorful forest behind us. We swam along the edge. It is impossible to take it all in. it is such a strange situation. Normally I hate heights, but here, there is no falling. You float on one plane that is controllable - in a way it is like flying. But if you look up to the surface you might have the same sensation. We dove down to 22 meters and from there the surface is a far away ripple of light. It is best to look forward however (isn’t that a truism for all of life…).
Coco got my attention and pointed ahead. There was a large fish (will look up English name when there is internet). It could have been three feet long (though evidently everything looks bigger underwater). It is a species that swims into the reef to be cleaned of parasites by other fish that live there. And just as cool, beyond the fish there was a submerged ship that we swam right up to. It is hard to know if the boat was used in the Bay of Pigs invasion (because some of those boats did sink) or if was placed there as a diving attraction. It felt straight out of a movie though, and I kept one eye open for a treasure chest just in case.
We surfaced to find another flat tire (the other side of the van) so we hooked up an extra air tank and temporarily filled the flat.
In the middle of our late lunch we joked around (mostly about very serious things like nitrogen asphyxiation giving the feeling of drunkenness) and talked about the plan for the next dive. In the middle of the lunch we spotted a Tocororo! The national bird of Cuba! I saw it first and felt very proud when a passing tour guide made a grand motion of pointing it out to her tour, pretending to be the original spotter.
After lunch we went to a different diving spot. Eduardo, who dove with us the first time, left to repair the leaky tire. As unbelievable as the first dive was, the second location was arguably better. I had a moment of unease when the clouds passed overhead, creating a giant shadow and sudden darkening in the water. I thought it might be something wrong with my vision… but in a few seconds the sun reappeared and I realized it was quite a natural thing. There was a shipwreck at this site as well. We swam over and I stood on top of the side railing. I was really surprised by what I didn’t see: there weren’t many anemones, I saw NO sea stars, and very few plain colored fish. We did see a sea cucumber, but it was not like the one in the touch tank in the children’s museum at home, no, this one was roughly a foot long. It felt pretty much the same.
The one creature I don’t like sharing the water with is the jellyfish. For some reason, perhaps because I have no experience distinguishing stinging jellies with non-stinging ones, jellyfish scare me a bit. We saw a few small ones but no stinging types. When you know they can’t sting and you look at them more closely, they are almost like snowflakes in intricacy. One minute I was examining the workings of the jellyfish that floated suspended above a beautiful parrotfish that explored some colorful coral below, and the next, I heard Coco signaling for our attention. I turned to see (to my astonishment) a sea turtle swimming not far off. We swam in the same direction as the turtle for a little while until Coco signaled that we were approaching or time limit. Time to ascend. ‘I’m not sure I believe in reincarnation’, I thought, as I followed Coco up a short distance to the sky and sand and sea breeze, ‘but if it does work that way, I don’t want to be a crab, but I certainly wouldn’t mind being a fish’.
We got out and waited for Eduardo to return with the van and all of our stuff. Katie and I went to the bathroom of our luncheon spot to change. Crabs had crawled into the stall. This, my friends, is how you get crabs from public toilets. It seemed, in fact, that crabs had pretty much taken over the town.
We walked back to the van and piled in. The crab-in-the-road situation had worsened. There was no longer the possibility of swerving out of the way. We let a larger bus pass us and it whipped by, scattering crabs and splattering crabs. It was really pretty gross; Crabs are scavengers that eat dead meat. We created a mass burial and an all-you-can-eat-buffet all at once. Eduardo believed the second flat tire was from hitting the crabs so when the bus in front of us turned to drive a different direction we had to be innovative. Eduardo asked Katie to drive and he and Orlando and Coco hopped out of the car and started walking down the traffic lane, kicking, poking and scaring off the crabs. At some points it was hilarious: there was a crab smack dab in Katie’s path. It was half squished already and Coco approached it with a staff-like-stick and brought it down upon the crab. ‘poor-thing was suffering’ he said. ‘Crunch crunch’, went the van over the dead shells. Eduardo saved one crab by kicking it like a football. We made it through the worst of the crabs and hopped back into the van. Every few kilometers we would debate whether we should get out again, and also joked about how the crabs wanted revenge for their lost relations. They got it in the end. A few bouncy minutes later we were stuck with yet another flat tire. We drove to the Panchero and had the tire repaired. ‘Lots of people coming in today’ he said, ‘Lots of crabs’. Lo and behold- two crab claw fragments were retrieved from our tire. We didn’t get to the hometel until 930 or so; we hadn’t been expecting so much extra-species traffic.
Yesterday was Katie and my first excursion to Playa Giron to go diving and it was INCREDIBLE. I had been impressed with the corals just on the other side of the wall surrounding Havana city, but the sceneries below the waves at Punto Perdiz and by Cuevo de Los Peces were mind-blowing.
Katie and I got up early and drove with Eduardo (our chofe) to CIM where we met our diving instructors. We packed up the van full of air and wetsuits and set off...only to get a completely flat tire thirty minutes away. After searching for a tire-fixer (a ponchero) we replaced it with a spare but returned to the city to secure another spare. Admittedly, I was impatient to be back on the road; we had been hoping to fit two dives into the day and we seemed to be wasting much of the morning. It was past nine by the time we truly left the city. But, as promised, Eduardo drove quickly and we arrived just before lunch time. When we got off the main road we began to notice more and more large crabs by the road. A kilometer later, it seemed to get pretty bad. Eduardo had to jerk the van out of the way of the crustaceans. We tried honking at them to get them out of the way, but soon determined crabs have a poor sense of hearing. There were several casualties. Katie had driven in the region the week before and told us how it had been much worse for her, she had taken many crab lives and felt very bad about it. On the bright side, we didn’t seem to make a dent in their population numbers. When we arrived at our dive site we were told to watch out for the crabs- ‘what crabs?’ I joked. They crawled around and over our stuff, waving at us in a mean warning. I could not have been more excited to leave them behind and see the creatures in the inviting blue water beyond them.
We suited up, jumped in and swam out a bit. It was difficult to wait. The patch reefs came all the way to the rocky shoreline. Close to shore we saw beautiful parrot fish males and were surrounded by sturgeon fish (I think!). Finally, we were ready to dive. I have had some problems with equalizing my ears so we agreed to take an especially slow ascent but still planned to go down about 20 meters. Down we went, I followed our instructor Coco, and Katie and Orlando weren’t far behind us. We swam through some of the mixed -reef patches towards the terrace edge. It was spectacular! Abruptly the plate seemed to drop away to deeper than I could see. Open Ocean was before us, and a colorful forest behind us. We swam along the edge. It is impossible to take it all in. it is such a strange situation. Normally I hate heights, but here, there is no falling. You float on one plane that is controllable - in a way it is like flying. But if you look up to the surface you might have the same sensation. We dove down to 22 meters and from there the surface is a far away ripple of light. It is best to look forward however (isn’t that a truism for all of life…).
Coco got my attention and pointed ahead. There was a large fish (will look up English name when there is internet). It could have been three feet long (though evidently everything looks bigger underwater). It is a species that swims into the reef to be cleaned of parasites by other fish that live there. And just as cool, beyond the fish there was a submerged ship that we swam right up to. It is hard to know if the boat was used in the Bay of Pigs invasion (because some of those boats did sink) or if was placed there as a diving attraction. It felt straight out of a movie though, and I kept one eye open for a treasure chest just in case.
We surfaced to find another flat tire (the other side of the van) so we hooked up an extra air tank and temporarily filled the flat.
In the middle of our late lunch we joked around (mostly about very serious things like nitrogen asphyxiation giving the feeling of drunkenness) and talked about the plan for the next dive. In the middle of the lunch we spotted a Tocororo! The national bird of Cuba! I saw it first and felt very proud when a passing tour guide made a grand motion of pointing it out to her tour, pretending to be the original spotter.
After lunch we went to a different diving spot. Eduardo, who dove with us the first time, left to repair the leaky tire. As unbelievable as the first dive was, the second location was arguably better. I had a moment of unease when the clouds passed overhead, creating a giant shadow and sudden darkening in the water. I thought it might be something wrong with my vision… but in a few seconds the sun reappeared and I realized it was quite a natural thing. There was a shipwreck at this site as well. We swam over and I stood on top of the side railing. I was really surprised by what I didn’t see: there weren’t many anemones, I saw NO sea stars, and very few plain colored fish. We did see a sea cucumber, but it was not like the one in the touch tank in the children’s museum at home, no, this one was roughly a foot long. It felt pretty much the same.
The one creature I don’t like sharing the water with is the jellyfish. For some reason, perhaps because I have no experience distinguishing stinging jellies with non-stinging ones, jellyfish scare me a bit. We saw a few small ones but no stinging types. When you know they can’t sting and you look at them more closely, they are almost like snowflakes in intricacy. One minute I was examining the workings of the jellyfish that floated suspended above a beautiful parrotfish that explored some colorful coral below, and the next, I heard Coco signaling for our attention. I turned to see (to my astonishment) a sea turtle swimming not far off. We swam in the same direction as the turtle for a little while until Coco signaled that we were approaching or time limit. Time to ascend. ‘I’m not sure I believe in reincarnation’, I thought, as I followed Coco up a short distance to the sky and sand and sea breeze, ‘but if it does work that way, I don’t want to be a crab, but I certainly wouldn’t mind being a fish’.
We got out and waited for Eduardo to return with the van and all of our stuff. Katie and I went to the bathroom of our luncheon spot to change. Crabs had crawled into the stall. This, my friends, is how you get crabs from public toilets. It seemed, in fact, that crabs had pretty much taken over the town.
We walked back to the van and piled in. The crab-in-the-road situation had worsened. There was no longer the possibility of swerving out of the way. We let a larger bus pass us and it whipped by, scattering crabs and splattering crabs. It was really pretty gross; Crabs are scavengers that eat dead meat. We created a mass burial and an all-you-can-eat-buffet all at once. Eduardo believed the second flat tire was from hitting the crabs so when the bus in front of us turned to drive a different direction we had to be innovative. Eduardo asked Katie to drive and he and Orlando and Coco hopped out of the car and started walking down the traffic lane, kicking, poking and scaring off the crabs. At some points it was hilarious: there was a crab smack dab in Katie’s path. It was half squished already and Coco approached it with a staff-like-stick and brought it down upon the crab. ‘poor-thing was suffering’ he said. ‘Crunch crunch’, went the van over the dead shells. Eduardo saved one crab by kicking it like a football. We made it through the worst of the crabs and hopped back into the van. Every few kilometers we would debate whether we should get out again, and also joked about how the crabs wanted revenge for their lost relations. They got it in the end. A few bouncy minutes later we were stuck with yet another flat tire. We drove to the Panchero and had the tire repaired. ‘Lots of people coming in today’ he said, ‘Lots of crabs’. Lo and behold- two crab claw fragments were retrieved from our tire. We didn’t get to the hometel until 930 or so; we hadn’t been expecting so much extra-species traffic.
4/12/10
Sunday Veronika and I went to the bus station to go downtown again- this time with more of a plan, and more of a back up plan. On the one hand, we want to take advantage of downtown Havana more while we are still here, but on the other hand, we find ourselves more and more occupied with classes, readings, and visits. Such is life, is it not? It is strange, but I find myself wishing we had a more extensive bus system in Portland and Boston. In Cuba, the bus costs about two cents per person- it is often packed(!) and unpleasantly stifling, but it is also always an adventure. Sometimes you see some really sweet, or really funny, or really interesting things on the bus. Of course, frequently, all you see is someone’s elbow dangerously close to knocking you in the face at the next abrupt stop. Anyway we arrived downtown and Veronika led me to this artist’s gallery. It was really cool. The buildings were covered with his colorful murals. Weird sculptures and benches were in the street and funny or bizarre sayings were painted all around. Evidently he has some gallery spaces in the United States. The artist updates the area from time to time. I really enjoyed it.
My half of our adventure was a little less successful. There is a café/ movie house called Fresa y Chocolate, which was featured in the eponymous classic Cuban film. I had heard it was a hangout for an artsy movie buff crowd so we walked there on the way home for some coffee. The place was empty. Inside they had advertisements for Havana club rum and an empty room with chairs that they featured in the movie. There were posters of movie scenes on the walls too, but it was certainly not a happening place. We walked on past the city cemetery (which was closed) and headed home. We did stumble across a bookstore/café on the way however. It seems like a good place to bring some reading to in the future.
My half of our adventure was a little less successful. There is a café/ movie house called Fresa y Chocolate, which was featured in the eponymous classic Cuban film. I had heard it was a hangout for an artsy movie buff crowd so we walked there on the way home for some coffee. The place was empty. Inside they had advertisements for Havana club rum and an empty room with chairs that they featured in the movie. There were posters of movie scenes on the walls too, but it was certainly not a happening place. We walked on past the city cemetery (which was closed) and headed home. We did stumble across a bookstore/café on the way however. It seems like a good place to bring some reading to in the future.
Quick Recap of 4/5-4/9
Monday was pretty standard, and Tuesday I went diving with Coco. Katie was busy so we went alone and were under for about an hour, which is pretty long. Wednesday was not spectacular. At some point in the week, Veronika and I made a list of things we want to do before we leave Cuba. Surprisingly to me, the list is not very long. If I were to spend more time here, I would want to be more integrated into real Cuban life, and I would also like to travel around the island more. Many of the things on our list are activities to do downtown, some are larger than others. On thrusday Veronika and I went downtown to explore. We waited in line at Coppelias (the ice cream place) for half and hour before we were warned that they were going to close (it was likely they would close before we even got in, the line wasn’t moving at all). Downtown was a bust. We couldn’t find anywhere to go that wasn’t swarming with tourists and expensive. We walked home realizing that when we go out exploring like that, we need a backup plan for our backup plan. On Friday we went to a meeting at the Center for Studies of the Americas to learn about the recent developments in Bolivia, Ecuador and Venezuela. The lecturers Spanish was extremely hard to understand because no matter how slowly he spoke, each word kind of blended in with the next.
On Saturday Veronika, Austin (a guy from Alabama) and I went downtown for the concert for the country (concierto para la patria). Compared to the Calle 13 concert, there were very few people there. The music was more traditional and it was generally an older croud. It was really pleasant though, we sat on the malecon (check!- off my list) and listened as the sea breeze cooled us and splattered us with a seasoning of salt. Downtown one always sees ladies carrying cones of paper filled with peanuts. None of us were really in the mood, but to buy ‘Maní’ was on our list, so we purchased them (for five cents) and tried this Cuban classic (check).
On Saturday Veronika, Austin (a guy from Alabama) and I went downtown for the concert for the country (concierto para la patria). Compared to the Calle 13 concert, there were very few people there. The music was more traditional and it was generally an older croud. It was really pleasant though, we sat on the malecon (check!- off my list) and listened as the sea breeze cooled us and splattered us with a seasoning of salt. Downtown one always sees ladies carrying cones of paper filled with peanuts. None of us were really in the mood, but to buy ‘Maní’ was on our list, so we purchased them (for five cents) and tried this Cuban classic (check).
4/12/10
So it may seem like I haven’t updated the blog for the entire last week-It is april 12th and all is exactly as it seems; I haven’t updated in forever. Instead of going back to try and remember the day to day- I’m going omit unimportant events and details and try to focus on the interesting stuff from the last week.
I would like to give April Fool’s Day justice however and describe it independently of the last week. SO, if you’re interested to know how I’m feeling as I approach the t-3 week mark of my trip skip the following post for the next one. If you have interest in the Sierra Maestra, Mountain Guerilla camps, or trail riding on horseback, you’re in luck! Keep reading.
April 1st, 2010
Veronika and I had put my backpack on our hotel porch overnight to let the cockroach leave to bother someone else- and so I awoke from a much improved sleep early in the morning and we filed off into the dining room for complementary breakfast. We know what to ask for now, (I haven’t gotten sick here since the first month really) so we get some natural juice, eggs, coffee, bread and butter. It was really quite a feast. More recently, we’ve begun to wonder what it is like to have a waitstaff position for a job here in Cuba. There is no tipping to speak of, or very little. And as I may have said before, there is no job mobility, so if there is a waitstaff, they will remain a waitstaff for YEARS. Now, I love waitressing at the diner, but I can’t imagine not being able to take time off, not being able to be promoted, not being able to move around a little in any career I’d be interested in. However, I acknowledge that this mobility is a privilege I have in my society and not something necessary for happiness or health in life. We have also had a few discussions about the stereotypical American. Here is what we concluded- the (bad) stereotypical American consumes a lot, talks loudly, sweats a lot, and chews gum constantly. As with all stereotypes, sometimes they are true. We ordered refills on the coffee from our waitress who scowled at us and walked away. We thought it a bit cold, until she clarified when she returned with the pitcher: ‘you know’ she said, ‘you girls are drinking four cups of coffee each right now, we don’t normally fill these cups more than half-way’. Cuban coffee is often prepared as a strong brewed espresso cup-size dose, with a Starbucks latte sized dose of sugar- but I felt like I deserved some coffee to keep me awake after staying up late hours to the chirping cockroach the night before. Oh well, sometimes one can’t help but fulfill the stereotypes.
The group drove to the Sierra Maestra mountain range. Most of the time we had to turn off the air in the van to have the power to muster the steep climbs. We arrived and were assigned a guide for the hike to the comandancia, the guerilla camps where armed rebels stayed and organized. In general I don’t like having a guide. I think it is unfortunate that we must travel with the havanatur company on our trips because there is always a narrating guide attached with the program- they don’t know how much we know, our interests, and they don’t seem to understand that we are not tourists but students. The reason I am so touchy on the tourist vs. student distinction is because of the rigid dichotomy between local and visitor life here in Cuba. In any case, we left Professor McKelvey at the base lunch spot and took a taxi a good ways up one of the mountains. Together we began to climb the comandancia trail. It was steep! I can’t imagine hiking up the trail to the comandancia with supplies, food, and radio transmitting materials as the Guerrillas did back in the day. We walked through some of the constructs and I tried to picture myself there during the revolution. I am pretty surprised that Batista never found it- I guess there were more trees back then, and fewer well-groomed tourist trails. We talked with our trail guide- he liked having us because we ‘walked quickly’ (I think he was having a hard time keeping up!). Veronika and Jenn decided to wait at one of the buildings (it may have been the generator building?) while Katie and I climbed to the summit. It was pretty grueling. Native oranges had fallen all over the path, but they very acidic and the smell was a little nauseating. On the way up we passed the radio center of Radio Rebelde and also saw some of the tiny hummingbirds from the region (‘zumzumitos’). The view was worth it though, as was the satisfaction only achievable by making it to the top of a mountain.
All of us stopped to look at Fidel’s house, which was pretty cool, though not surprisingly, simple. Celia Sanchez is said to have stayed there too, though this must be a mistake, said our guide, since there was only one bed. We were sitting to rest by his house (partly because a large group of German tourists was before us and we wished them to gain some distance on us before we continued) when we began to talk about relationships. Our guide- he shall remain nameless (I honestly don’t remember his name…) openly admitted to cheating on his wife 3 times. I am astonished by the blatancy about infidelity here. This is not the first man to speak openly of the habit and normality of cheating. It is a bit off-putting.
When we continued walking again, I glimpsed from the corner of my eye a dash of red and blue. My first Tocororo spotting: the national bird of Cuba. Upon return and after lunch, we were quite pleasantly surprised with horses! He took an awesome trail ride across mini-streams and through the woods a bit before returning, happy and tired, to the hotel.
The next day we drove to Holguin the city where the beer factory is located. We have a running joke now because the Cristal beer can says, with questions, email bucanero.com. We pretend that it is the same as saying, with any complaints about your coca-cola, email pepsi… of course it is very different because the companies are nationalized and owned by the same body… government. In any case, there is not much to do in Holguin. We explored some cool plazas and found a private paladar to eat in that we enjoyed immensely. That was pretty much our day, we drove to the airport late that night to fly back to Havana by midnight.
I would like to give April Fool’s Day justice however and describe it independently of the last week. SO, if you’re interested to know how I’m feeling as I approach the t-3 week mark of my trip skip the following post for the next one. If you have interest in the Sierra Maestra, Mountain Guerilla camps, or trail riding on horseback, you’re in luck! Keep reading.
April 1st, 2010
Veronika and I had put my backpack on our hotel porch overnight to let the cockroach leave to bother someone else- and so I awoke from a much improved sleep early in the morning and we filed off into the dining room for complementary breakfast. We know what to ask for now, (I haven’t gotten sick here since the first month really) so we get some natural juice, eggs, coffee, bread and butter. It was really quite a feast. More recently, we’ve begun to wonder what it is like to have a waitstaff position for a job here in Cuba. There is no tipping to speak of, or very little. And as I may have said before, there is no job mobility, so if there is a waitstaff, they will remain a waitstaff for YEARS. Now, I love waitressing at the diner, but I can’t imagine not being able to take time off, not being able to be promoted, not being able to move around a little in any career I’d be interested in. However, I acknowledge that this mobility is a privilege I have in my society and not something necessary for happiness or health in life. We have also had a few discussions about the stereotypical American. Here is what we concluded- the (bad) stereotypical American consumes a lot, talks loudly, sweats a lot, and chews gum constantly. As with all stereotypes, sometimes they are true. We ordered refills on the coffee from our waitress who scowled at us and walked away. We thought it a bit cold, until she clarified when she returned with the pitcher: ‘you know’ she said, ‘you girls are drinking four cups of coffee each right now, we don’t normally fill these cups more than half-way’. Cuban coffee is often prepared as a strong brewed espresso cup-size dose, with a Starbucks latte sized dose of sugar- but I felt like I deserved some coffee to keep me awake after staying up late hours to the chirping cockroach the night before. Oh well, sometimes one can’t help but fulfill the stereotypes.
The group drove to the Sierra Maestra mountain range. Most of the time we had to turn off the air in the van to have the power to muster the steep climbs. We arrived and were assigned a guide for the hike to the comandancia, the guerilla camps where armed rebels stayed and organized. In general I don’t like having a guide. I think it is unfortunate that we must travel with the havanatur company on our trips because there is always a narrating guide attached with the program- they don’t know how much we know, our interests, and they don’t seem to understand that we are not tourists but students. The reason I am so touchy on the tourist vs. student distinction is because of the rigid dichotomy between local and visitor life here in Cuba. In any case, we left Professor McKelvey at the base lunch spot and took a taxi a good ways up one of the mountains. Together we began to climb the comandancia trail. It was steep! I can’t imagine hiking up the trail to the comandancia with supplies, food, and radio transmitting materials as the Guerrillas did back in the day. We walked through some of the constructs and I tried to picture myself there during the revolution. I am pretty surprised that Batista never found it- I guess there were more trees back then, and fewer well-groomed tourist trails. We talked with our trail guide- he liked having us because we ‘walked quickly’ (I think he was having a hard time keeping up!). Veronika and Jenn decided to wait at one of the buildings (it may have been the generator building?) while Katie and I climbed to the summit. It was pretty grueling. Native oranges had fallen all over the path, but they very acidic and the smell was a little nauseating. On the way up we passed the radio center of Radio Rebelde and also saw some of the tiny hummingbirds from the region (‘zumzumitos’). The view was worth it though, as was the satisfaction only achievable by making it to the top of a mountain.
All of us stopped to look at Fidel’s house, which was pretty cool, though not surprisingly, simple. Celia Sanchez is said to have stayed there too, though this must be a mistake, said our guide, since there was only one bed. We were sitting to rest by his house (partly because a large group of German tourists was before us and we wished them to gain some distance on us before we continued) when we began to talk about relationships. Our guide- he shall remain nameless (I honestly don’t remember his name…) openly admitted to cheating on his wife 3 times. I am astonished by the blatancy about infidelity here. This is not the first man to speak openly of the habit and normality of cheating. It is a bit off-putting.
When we continued walking again, I glimpsed from the corner of my eye a dash of red and blue. My first Tocororo spotting: the national bird of Cuba. Upon return and after lunch, we were quite pleasantly surprised with horses! He took an awesome trail ride across mini-streams and through the woods a bit before returning, happy and tired, to the hotel.
The next day we drove to Holguin the city where the beer factory is located. We have a running joke now because the Cristal beer can says, with questions, email bucanero.com. We pretend that it is the same as saying, with any complaints about your coca-cola, email pepsi… of course it is very different because the companies are nationalized and owned by the same body… government. In any case, there is not much to do in Holguin. We explored some cool plazas and found a private paladar to eat in that we enjoyed immensely. That was pretty much our day, we drove to the airport late that night to fly back to Havana by midnight.
4/12/10
On tv today there was a question: what hip hop artist recently performed in Havana with an audience of 500 thousand. Wow. I guess there were 500 thousand people at the Calle 13 concert.
4/12/10 just watched the BBC world news- they had a short story about Cuba privatizing hair salons. Evidently the economy is stagnant, and the privatization is beginning, first in some small private farmlands, and now hair salons. Even the communist china has privatized businesses. Very interesting.
** later note after discussion in class-
This is not the first privatization to occur in Cuba, nor, likely, will it be the last. BUT it should not be suggested that a 'series of privatization' is beginning. Cuba is not undergoing dramatic reformations from nationalized to 'private enterprised'.
4/12/10 just watched the BBC world news- they had a short story about Cuba privatizing hair salons. Evidently the economy is stagnant, and the privatization is beginning, first in some small private farmlands, and now hair salons. Even the communist china has privatized businesses. Very interesting.
** later note after discussion in class-
This is not the first privatization to occur in Cuba, nor, likely, will it be the last. BUT it should not be suggested that a 'series of privatization' is beginning. Cuba is not undergoing dramatic reformations from nationalized to 'private enterprised'.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
12 Abril 2010
4/12/10- just watched the BBC world news- they had a short story about Cuba privatizing hair salons. Evidently the economy is stagnant, and the privatization is beginning, first in some small private farmlands, and now hair salons. Even the communist china has privatized businesses. Very interesting.
April 12th
So it may seem like I haven’t updated the blog for the entire last week-It is april 12th and all is exactly as it seems; I haven’t updated in forever. Instead of going back to try and remember the day to day- I’m going omit unimportant events and details and try to focus on the interesting stuff from the last week.
I would like to give April Fool’s Day justice however and describe it independently of the last week. SO, if you’re interested to know how I’m feeling as I approach the t-3 week mark of my trip skip the following post for the next one. If you have interest in the Sierra Maestra, Mountain Guerilla camps, or trail riding on horseback, you’re in luck! Keep reading.
April 1st, 2010
Veronika and I had put my backpack on our hotel porch overnight to let the cockroach leave to bother someone else- and so I awoke from a much improved sleep early in the morning and we filed off into the dining room for complementary breakfast. We know what to ask for now, (I haven’t gotten sick here since the first month really) so we get some natural juice, eggs, coffee, bread and butter. It was really quite a feast. More recently, we’ve begun to wonder what it is like to have a waitstaff position for a job here in Cuba. There is no tipping to speak of, or very little. And as I may have said before, there is no job mobility, so if there is a waitstaff, they will remain a waitstaff for YEARS. Now, I love waitressing at the diner, but I can’t imagine not being able to take time off, not being able to be promoted, not being able to move around a little in any career I’d be interested in. However, I acknowledge that this mobility is a privilege I have in my society and not something necessary for happiness or health in life. We have also had a few discussions about the stereotypical American. Here is what we concluded- the (bad) stereotypical American consumes a lot, talks loudly, sweats a lot, and chews gum constantly. As with all stereotypes, sometimes they are true. We ordered refills on the coffee from our waitress who scowled at us and walked away. We thought it a bit cold, until she clarified when she returned with the pitcher: ‘you know’ she said, ‘you girls are drinking four cups of coffee each right now, we don’t normally fill these cups more than half-way’. Cuban coffee is often prepared as a strong brewed espresso cup-size dose, with a Starbucks latte sized dose of sugar- but I felt like I deserved some coffee to keep me awake after staying up late hours to the chirping cockroach the night before. Oh well, sometimes one can’t help but fulfill the stereotypes.
The group drove to the Sierra Maestra mountain range. Most of the time we had to turn off the air in the van to have the power to muster the steep climbs. We arrived and were assigned a guide for the hike to the comandancia, the guerilla camps where armed rebels stayed and organized. In general I don’t like having a guide. I think it is unfortunate that we must travel with the havanatur company on our trips because there is always a narrating guide attached with the program- they don’t know how much we know, our interests, and they don’t seem to understand that we are not tourists but students. The reason I am so touchy on the tourist vs. student distinction is because of the rigid dichotomy between local and visitor life here in Cuba. In any case, we left Professor McKelvey at the base lunch spot and took a taxi a good ways up one of the mountains. Together we began to climb the comandancia trail. It was steep! I can’t imagine hiking up the trail to the comandancia with supplies, food, and radio transmitting materials as the Guerrillas did back in the day. We walked through some of the constructs and I tried to picture myself there during the revolution. I am pretty surprised that Batista never found it- I guess there were more trees back then, and fewer well-groomed tourist trails. We talked with our trail guide- he liked having us because we ‘walked quickly’ (I think he was having a hard time keeping up!). Veronika and Jenn decided to wait at one of the buildings (it may have been the generator building?) while Katie and I climbed to the summit. It was pretty grueling. Native oranges had fallen all over the path, but they very acidic and the smell was a little nauseating. On the way up we passed the radio center of Radio Rebelde and also saw some of the tiny hummingbirds from the region (‘zumzumitos’). The view was worth it though, as was the satisfaction only achievable by making it to the top of a mountain.
All of us stopped to look at Fidel’s house, which was pretty cool, though not surprisingly, simple. Celia Sanchez is said to have stayed there too, though this must be a mistake, said our guide, since there was only one bed. We were sitting to rest by his house (partly because a large group of German tourists was before us and we wished them to gain some distance on us before we continued) when we began to talk about relationships. Our guide- he shall remain nameless (I honestly don’t remember his name…) openly admitted to cheating on his wife 3 times. I am astonished by the blatancy about infidelity here. This is not the first man to speak openly of the habit and normality of cheating. It is a bit off-putting.
When we continued walking again, I glimpsed from the corner of my eye a dash of red and blue. My first Tocororo spotting: the national bird of Cuba. Upon return and after lunch, we were quite pleasantly surprised with horses! He took an awesome trail ride across mini-streams and through the woods a bit before returning, happy and tired, to the hotel.
The next day we drove to Holguin the city where the beer factory is located. We have a running joke now because the Cristal beer can says, with questions, email bucanero.com. We pretend that it is the same as saying, with any complaints about your coca-cola, email pepsi… of course it is very different because the companies are nationalized and owned by the same body… government. In any case, there is not much to do in Holguin. We explored some cool plazas and found a private paladar to eat in that we enjoyed immensely. That was pretty much our day, we drove to the airport late that night to fly back to Havana by midnight.
April 12th
So it may seem like I haven’t updated the blog for the entire last week-It is april 12th and all is exactly as it seems; I haven’t updated in forever. Instead of going back to try and remember the day to day- I’m going omit unimportant events and details and try to focus on the interesting stuff from the last week.
I would like to give April Fool’s Day justice however and describe it independently of the last week. SO, if you’re interested to know how I’m feeling as I approach the t-3 week mark of my trip skip the following post for the next one. If you have interest in the Sierra Maestra, Mountain Guerilla camps, or trail riding on horseback, you’re in luck! Keep reading.
April 1st, 2010
Veronika and I had put my backpack on our hotel porch overnight to let the cockroach leave to bother someone else- and so I awoke from a much improved sleep early in the morning and we filed off into the dining room for complementary breakfast. We know what to ask for now, (I haven’t gotten sick here since the first month really) so we get some natural juice, eggs, coffee, bread and butter. It was really quite a feast. More recently, we’ve begun to wonder what it is like to have a waitstaff position for a job here in Cuba. There is no tipping to speak of, or very little. And as I may have said before, there is no job mobility, so if there is a waitstaff, they will remain a waitstaff for YEARS. Now, I love waitressing at the diner, but I can’t imagine not being able to take time off, not being able to be promoted, not being able to move around a little in any career I’d be interested in. However, I acknowledge that this mobility is a privilege I have in my society and not something necessary for happiness or health in life. We have also had a few discussions about the stereotypical American. Here is what we concluded- the (bad) stereotypical American consumes a lot, talks loudly, sweats a lot, and chews gum constantly. As with all stereotypes, sometimes they are true. We ordered refills on the coffee from our waitress who scowled at us and walked away. We thought it a bit cold, until she clarified when she returned with the pitcher: ‘you know’ she said, ‘you girls are drinking four cups of coffee each right now, we don’t normally fill these cups more than half-way’. Cuban coffee is often prepared as a strong brewed espresso cup-size dose, with a Starbucks latte sized dose of sugar- but I felt like I deserved some coffee to keep me awake after staying up late hours to the chirping cockroach the night before. Oh well, sometimes one can’t help but fulfill the stereotypes.
The group drove to the Sierra Maestra mountain range. Most of the time we had to turn off the air in the van to have the power to muster the steep climbs. We arrived and were assigned a guide for the hike to the comandancia, the guerilla camps where armed rebels stayed and organized. In general I don’t like having a guide. I think it is unfortunate that we must travel with the havanatur company on our trips because there is always a narrating guide attached with the program- they don’t know how much we know, our interests, and they don’t seem to understand that we are not tourists but students. The reason I am so touchy on the tourist vs. student distinction is because of the rigid dichotomy between local and visitor life here in Cuba. In any case, we left Professor McKelvey at the base lunch spot and took a taxi a good ways up one of the mountains. Together we began to climb the comandancia trail. It was steep! I can’t imagine hiking up the trail to the comandancia with supplies, food, and radio transmitting materials as the Guerrillas did back in the day. We walked through some of the constructs and I tried to picture myself there during the revolution. I am pretty surprised that Batista never found it- I guess there were more trees back then, and fewer well-groomed tourist trails. We talked with our trail guide- he liked having us because we ‘walked quickly’ (I think he was having a hard time keeping up!). Veronika and Jenn decided to wait at one of the buildings (it may have been the generator building?) while Katie and I climbed to the summit. It was pretty grueling. Native oranges had fallen all over the path, but they very acidic and the smell was a little nauseating. On the way up we passed the radio center of Radio Rebelde and also saw some of the tiny hummingbirds from the region (‘zumzumitos’). The view was worth it though, as was the satisfaction only achievable by making it to the top of a mountain.
All of us stopped to look at Fidel’s house, which was pretty cool, though not surprisingly, simple. Celia Sanchez is said to have stayed there too, though this must be a mistake, said our guide, since there was only one bed. We were sitting to rest by his house (partly because a large group of German tourists was before us and we wished them to gain some distance on us before we continued) when we began to talk about relationships. Our guide- he shall remain nameless (I honestly don’t remember his name…) openly admitted to cheating on his wife 3 times. I am astonished by the blatancy about infidelity here. This is not the first man to speak openly of the habit and normality of cheating. It is a bit off-putting.
When we continued walking again, I glimpsed from the corner of my eye a dash of red and blue. My first Tocororo spotting: the national bird of Cuba. Upon return and after lunch, we were quite pleasantly surprised with horses! He took an awesome trail ride across mini-streams and through the woods a bit before returning, happy and tired, to the hotel.
The next day we drove to Holguin the city where the beer factory is located. We have a running joke now because the Cristal beer can says, with questions, email bucanero.com. We pretend that it is the same as saying, with any complaints about your coca-cola, email pepsi… of course it is very different because the companies are nationalized and owned by the same body… government. In any case, there is not much to do in Holguin. We explored some cool plazas and found a private paladar to eat in that we enjoyed immensely. That was pretty much our day, we drove to the airport late that night to fly back to Havana by midnight.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
31 Marzo 2010
Today the morning couldn’t come fast enough seeing as Veronika and I were clearly sharing our hotel room with a cockroach. After an early breakfast we all climbed into our monstrous tourist van and drove to a museum in Yara. After the museum, we drove to a primary school in Yara. At the school the students sang for us and presented us with Cuban history. They were so cute! All of the children seemed very disciplined and well behaved. My favorite part was when they preformed some traditional dancing to Son music. We applauded their talented skills when the song ended. They came over to us and I thought they wanted a kiss on the cheek. Then, with an iron grip upon my hand and a immediate feeling of horror I realized we were being asked to dance by the young professionals. It was fun in the end though. My 10 year old dance partner spun me around and was patient as I botched the 1,2,3 step timing. Thank god we took even just the one lesson with the FEU kids. At the end of the visit they shared some desserts with us and gave us a cake for the road.
We departed for our next museum. Normally, I find the birth houses pretty boring; usually they have the exact same things (some traditional Spanish colonial wood and tile work, an outfit worn by the person, and revolvers or swords they used depending on the epoch of their life. Today’s was a little more interesting however. Today we went to the birth house of Celia Shánchez- she is a leading woman in Cuba’s history and worked alongside Fidel for many years of the revolution.
Our last stop today was the Museo desembarco del Granma- basically the location where the Granma ship first disembarked which is now commemorated by a small museum. We took a relaxing casual stroll to the water, which took us 20 minutes and originally took 5 ½ hours because Castro and his rebels had to bushwhack through thick mangrove stands.
The museum guide ended up staying late to answer our (mostly our professor’s) questions so we decided to give him a ride home to the nearby countryside in our monster truck of a tour bus. We asked if he had any children and found out he had one young son. As he left us, we decided to give him the cake we had received from the primary school. We watched as he walked with the giant pink cake into the cluster of palm=thatched houses. A small shirtless boy approached him. We bent down to show his son the cake which elicited a joyful leap a quick hug around the knees before the two of them waved and walked towards their house with the boy carrying the cake happily. It was much more sweet than the cake would have been.
We departed for our next museum. Normally, I find the birth houses pretty boring; usually they have the exact same things (some traditional Spanish colonial wood and tile work, an outfit worn by the person, and revolvers or swords they used depending on the epoch of their life. Today’s was a little more interesting however. Today we went to the birth house of Celia Shánchez- she is a leading woman in Cuba’s history and worked alongside Fidel for many years of the revolution.
Our last stop today was the Museo desembarco del Granma- basically the location where the Granma ship first disembarked which is now commemorated by a small museum. We took a relaxing casual stroll to the water, which took us 20 minutes and originally took 5 ½ hours because Castro and his rebels had to bushwhack through thick mangrove stands.
The museum guide ended up staying late to answer our (mostly our professor’s) questions so we decided to give him a ride home to the nearby countryside in our monster truck of a tour bus. We asked if he had any children and found out he had one young son. As he left us, we decided to give him the cake we had received from the primary school. We watched as he walked with the giant pink cake into the cluster of palm=thatched houses. A small shirtless boy approached him. We bent down to show his son the cake which elicited a joyful leap a quick hug around the knees before the two of them waved and walked towards their house with the boy carrying the cake happily. It was much more sweet than the cake would have been.
30 Marzo 2010
More museums (Birth-house of Carlos Manuel de Cespedes) and a walk around Bayamo.
Unrelatedly, I’m beginning to get very concerned about the little time I have left here- I can’t believe how quickly the last few months have passed.
Unrelatedly, I’m beginning to get very concerned about the little time I have left here- I can’t believe how quickly the last few months have passed.
Monday, April 12, 2010
29 Marzo 2010
Today we went to the house where Antonio Maceo was born and to the house where Frank Pais lived. These are two very interesting (and different) revolutionaries in Cuba’s history. Unfortunately, the Santiago heat made the traditional houses very hard to pay attention to. In the afternoon we walked down to the harbor and then back up to Santiago center for lunch. This heat makes me forget that it is March. It must have been about 90 degrees. Today is our last day in Santiago. Tomorrow, Bayamo.
28 Marzo 2010
This morning we went with the program to the cemetery where Jose Martí’s remains lay. We saw the changing of the guards of his memorial and some other noted tombs of figures from Cuba’s history. It was a really beautiful cemetery, though I’m a bit strange and find them to be very peaceful places in general (I recommend people in Boston visit the Arlington cemetery- it is a really nice arboretum). Then we traveled to the Moncada Barracks, which Fidel Castro Ruiz attacked in the event known as the 26th of July movement. I’ve really enjoyed supplementing all my class learning with trips to these museums: it helps put pictures to all the histories (even though often, I can’t look at the pictures because the violence depicted in them is extremely unsettling).
In the afternoon we drove to the church of la cobra. It contains an emblem of the patron saint of all of Cuba and many people leave offerings including Hemingway’s Pulitzer which got stolen years ago. It really reminded me of Thailand. Normally, Cubans are not very religious (as I’ve said before, the most common religious affiliation is atheism). Here, however, I saw a very superstitious and pious people. Our driver in the city even requested that we bring back some copper from the mine for him, for good health. A few years ago, a buddist monk in Thailand gave me directions to follow to ensure good health past 30, and so, with my shoes on the left side of the house and budda in my window, I did not feel appropriate as an agnostic and with my fulfilled duty to the thai monk to participate much in the offering/fortune ensuring rituals here.
Then, at 8 tonight we all met up again to go to another Committee for the Defense of the Revolution.
There are Committees for the Defense of the Revolution in every neighborhood dispersed throughout every few blocks in Cuba. They are non-profit, democratically elected committees that work to defend the revolution and fix community problems. The one we visited was working to eliminate Dengue fever from the city and also focused on donating to the national blood bank. Similar to the other CDR we visited they had a presentation planned. They sat us down in chairs gathered in the street near a table filled with fresh fruit. They proceeded to inform us about the goals and formation of CDRs in general. Then, interestingly and uncomfortably, they began ‘telling’ us about the injustice of the embargo and the damage it has done over the years to the economy and the people. One man even called us (Americans) criminals; I didn’t see him later, he must have left early. A woman defended Cuba and reinforced that it is not a terrorist nation. We sat silently and listened. It was a difficult position to be in. on the one hand, I really appreciated the neighborhood people’s sincerity with us. On the other hand, the embargo began decades before I was even born, and I don’t think they realize necessarily just how little power three students in the United States have to end the embargo if they could convince us to petition it. The president of the CDR redirected the conversation (thankfully) by addressing the crowd to say that our presence in their CDR was appreciated and that our efforts to come to Cuba are an example of the distinction between the people and the government of the United States.
After this dialogue the atmosphere lightened considerably. They wanted us to say something because we had been very quiet until that point. We turned to Veronika (the most proficient at Spanish) and she began to say that we have felt very welcomed and are learning a lot as we try to gain a more complete understanding of this country. It was funny when she faltered before the word ‘welcomed’ because the CDR members were suggesting ways to fill in the blank: ‘Like family?’ they asked. ‘yes, like family’ we agreed.
For the most part this is true. The women show us which houses are theirs so that if we are ever in the area again, EVER, we can go and find open doors to welcome us. They shared the fruit with us and then brought out some Cuban rum and coke to drink (a Cuba libre) before turning a speaker towards the street out of an open window and demanding we join them for a street dance party. It was fun. We piled back into our embarrassing tourist van and drove back to our over-comfortable hotel to sleep.
In the afternoon we drove to the church of la cobra. It contains an emblem of the patron saint of all of Cuba and many people leave offerings including Hemingway’s Pulitzer which got stolen years ago. It really reminded me of Thailand. Normally, Cubans are not very religious (as I’ve said before, the most common religious affiliation is atheism). Here, however, I saw a very superstitious and pious people. Our driver in the city even requested that we bring back some copper from the mine for him, for good health. A few years ago, a buddist monk in Thailand gave me directions to follow to ensure good health past 30, and so, with my shoes on the left side of the house and budda in my window, I did not feel appropriate as an agnostic and with my fulfilled duty to the thai monk to participate much in the offering/fortune ensuring rituals here.
Then, at 8 tonight we all met up again to go to another Committee for the Defense of the Revolution.
There are Committees for the Defense of the Revolution in every neighborhood dispersed throughout every few blocks in Cuba. They are non-profit, democratically elected committees that work to defend the revolution and fix community problems. The one we visited was working to eliminate Dengue fever from the city and also focused on donating to the national blood bank. Similar to the other CDR we visited they had a presentation planned. They sat us down in chairs gathered in the street near a table filled with fresh fruit. They proceeded to inform us about the goals and formation of CDRs in general. Then, interestingly and uncomfortably, they began ‘telling’ us about the injustice of the embargo and the damage it has done over the years to the economy and the people. One man even called us (Americans) criminals; I didn’t see him later, he must have left early. A woman defended Cuba and reinforced that it is not a terrorist nation. We sat silently and listened. It was a difficult position to be in. on the one hand, I really appreciated the neighborhood people’s sincerity with us. On the other hand, the embargo began decades before I was even born, and I don’t think they realize necessarily just how little power three students in the United States have to end the embargo if they could convince us to petition it. The president of the CDR redirected the conversation (thankfully) by addressing the crowd to say that our presence in their CDR was appreciated and that our efforts to come to Cuba are an example of the distinction between the people and the government of the United States.
After this dialogue the atmosphere lightened considerably. They wanted us to say something because we had been very quiet until that point. We turned to Veronika (the most proficient at Spanish) and she began to say that we have felt very welcomed and are learning a lot as we try to gain a more complete understanding of this country. It was funny when she faltered before the word ‘welcomed’ because the CDR members were suggesting ways to fill in the blank: ‘Like family?’ they asked. ‘yes, like family’ we agreed.
For the most part this is true. The women show us which houses are theirs so that if we are ever in the area again, EVER, we can go and find open doors to welcome us. They shared the fruit with us and then brought out some Cuban rum and coke to drink (a Cuba libre) before turning a speaker towards the street out of an open window and demanding we join them for a street dance party. It was fun. We piled back into our embarrassing tourist van and drove back to our over-comfortable hotel to sleep.
27 Marzo 2010
We arrived early in Santiago after a pleasant one-hour flight. We drove in our monstrous tourist van to the hills of San Juan and also to the scenic castle of Morros. We were exhausted from our 4 hours of sleep the night before so we napped for a little while at the hotel before we went out to Casa de La Trova, a music house of traditional Son music, for our after dinner entertainment. As we were walking back to the hotel we passed by a massive crowd of thousands of youth leaving a concert or some event. We were annoyed by the number of guys who asked us ‘where are you from’ in English and I have never in all my travels experience that number of people who would veer into our path to touch our hair or say ‘beautiful ladies’ (in English). The street was loud with hissing. We have been warned that we would receive compliments and invitations, and that we should take it lightly- “it is just a joke- a complement”. I hate that the only thing they ask us is where we are from. Normally we ignore the question. I hate it because it is a reminder of how much we stick out no matter how hard we have tried to integrate ourselves into Cuban culture and regardless of the language we are speaking. Also, as I’ve said before, I never feel physically unsafe in Cuba, but I often feel uncomfortable because the Cuban men can be very sexually aggressive. They nearly never immediately accept our rejections – either to dance, or to leave with them to other places.
The experience of male foreigners, and the experience of our male professors who told us to take the compliments lightly are very different than those of four girls walking together without a male. They have no way of seeing what we are subjected to. The Machismo has sparked conversation among the group as to whether women are or are not treated with respect here in Cuba.
The experience of male foreigners, and the experience of our male professors who told us to take the compliments lightly are very different than those of four girls walking together without a male. They have no way of seeing what we are subjected to. The Machismo has sparked conversation among the group as to whether women are or are not treated with respect here in Cuba.
Friday, April 9, 2010
26 Marzo 2010
This morning we had a very interesting visit to a media broadcasting station where we met with the production team for a daily program called Mesa Redonda (the Round Table). If there is one part of Cuban society that I have not come to appreciate, or at least understand, it is mass media. It must be understood that many Cubans cannot afford to own a television, even though cable bills would be quite subsidized I imagine. Those that do have it, have access to some Venezuelan programs, Mesa Redonda, and not much else. It is hard to say exactly because the hotels have cable and receive HBO, Showtime, ESPN and CNN in Spanish and English, just to name a few. Cuban citizens certainly do not receive all of these channels. It is simply another aspect of the tourist vs. local structural dichotomy of society here.
The producers of the program talked about its objectives and origins. It began during the Elian Gonzalez debate. Fidel Castro sponsored the program to inform the people about the discussion by bringing child specialists and other experts to talk at the round table. The idea was very popular and the program continued with varying discussion themes. But, like all the other programming on television here, it is extremely leftist, and is not meant to be a platform for debate but instead to represent the revolutionary view.
My problem with the media in Cuba is that I don’t see any opportunity for an unbiased publicized debate between experts, officials, or specialists. Of course, I don’t think that the news-system in the United States is worth much either. The national corporations are biased towards the right, or if they present both sides, they do so with restrictions from the powers above them. I believe and understand that it is impossible to have a private fund for support and (whether consciously or unconsciously) to NOT be working to present the story for those supporters.
Honestly, I’ve come away from this visit with a fair deal of pessimism about mass media in general. I think it is an important branch of cultural society that needs some major repair and transformation.
Directly from the visit Veronika, Jenn, Katie, and I went to the stadium for another Industriales game. They are in the equivalent of the ‘world series’ now, so the crowds were fuller and more enthused. We were more prepared too- decked out in blue and white and even sporting some Industriales gear. Go home-team! (The score was something like 12 to 9, a really good and exciting game).
In the evening Veronika and I met an Italian classmate from our Spanish class. We met him in Old Havana for dinner at a Portuguese ( I think!? ) owned brewery in the main square. It is one of the few, if not the only, privately owned business in Havana, and, dare I say, Cuba. To be truthful, I am not sure how it coexists and functions within the city. I’d like to look it up online if I can find some Internet soon.
Feelings: Baseball in the stadium, dinner in the plaza: it is good to be outside. Tomorrow we leave by plane for Santiago de Cuba (as far away from Havana as possible) at 430am so I’m a bit nervous (and already tired) for the journey.
The producers of the program talked about its objectives and origins. It began during the Elian Gonzalez debate. Fidel Castro sponsored the program to inform the people about the discussion by bringing child specialists and other experts to talk at the round table. The idea was very popular and the program continued with varying discussion themes. But, like all the other programming on television here, it is extremely leftist, and is not meant to be a platform for debate but instead to represent the revolutionary view.
My problem with the media in Cuba is that I don’t see any opportunity for an unbiased publicized debate between experts, officials, or specialists. Of course, I don’t think that the news-system in the United States is worth much either. The national corporations are biased towards the right, or if they present both sides, they do so with restrictions from the powers above them. I believe and understand that it is impossible to have a private fund for support and (whether consciously or unconsciously) to NOT be working to present the story for those supporters.
Honestly, I’ve come away from this visit with a fair deal of pessimism about mass media in general. I think it is an important branch of cultural society that needs some major repair and transformation.
Directly from the visit Veronika, Jenn, Katie, and I went to the stadium for another Industriales game. They are in the equivalent of the ‘world series’ now, so the crowds were fuller and more enthused. We were more prepared too- decked out in blue and white and even sporting some Industriales gear. Go home-team! (The score was something like 12 to 9, a really good and exciting game).
In the evening Veronika and I met an Italian classmate from our Spanish class. We met him in Old Havana for dinner at a Portuguese ( I think!? ) owned brewery in the main square. It is one of the few, if not the only, privately owned business in Havana, and, dare I say, Cuba. To be truthful, I am not sure how it coexists and functions within the city. I’d like to look it up online if I can find some Internet soon.
Feelings: Baseball in the stadium, dinner in the plaza: it is good to be outside. Tomorrow we leave by plane for Santiago de Cuba (as far away from Havana as possible) at 430am so I’m a bit nervous (and already tired) for the journey.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
25 Marzo 2010
US/Cuban relations class, History of Cuba class, a quick nap and then perhaps the Ballet tonight?
We did indeed go the National Cuban ballet, which I really enjoyed. The performance was a selection of pieces directed by Alicia Alonso before her death. My favorite thing about the Cuban Ballet is that any Cuban can attend. In the United States, the Ballet is considered a high art form, and really only a ‘sophisticated’ minority of the population attends performances of the professional companies. Ballets in Boston are about 20 dollars for a ticket with a student discount. Here we paid fifty cents. Cuban nationals pay even less, though of course, this is all on a relative scale.
Monday, April 5, 2010
24 Marzo 2010- The Motorcycle Photo-Diaries.
Lucky blog followers! Today consisted of classes and reading so I’ve decided to make a long overdue picture entry. (Of course, I also haven’t gotten Internet in forever, so who knows if you’ll ever receive this gift of a day free of poor writing).
Here is a collection of photographs of the Motorcycle one sees here in Cuba.
Here is a collection of photographs of the Motorcycle one sees here in Cuba.
March 22-23 Classes and Concerts
22 Marzo 2010
Monday was full of class and reading. This is quite a heavy workweek with long hours of classes and longer readings.
23 Marzo 2010
Today we had the morning off and I did some reading, and then went to the vegetable market with Katie. It looks like Guavas are coming into season. Some species of mangos were new too. We walked back to the hometel with four bags full of fresh fruit and vegetables for $ 3.50. I am now trying to get all of my work done early (slim chance) because this afternoon I have a marine biology tutorial right before an outdoor concert by Calle 13 that I expect to be packed. One friend in FEU told us there were likely to be tens of thousands of Cubans there. This may be an exaggeration, or perhaps will be true. We’ll see.
Also, evidently, there was an earthquake in Santiago de Cuba. We’re going there for a week starting this Saturday (the 27th) but there doesn’t seem to have been much damage or any death as a result and there have been no repercussions on our part of the island.
Calle 13 was awesome. I expect that there were 10,000 people there. Katie thought it was more like a quarter of a million. The band performed a mix of trova, rap and reggaeton and the entire crowd got really into it. It was also highly politicized: Calle 13’s songs demand “Puerto Rico Libre” (like Cuba Libre) and talk about Puerto Rico as a colony of the US. We just walked back to the hometel (it took more than an hour) and now its back to the books.
Monday was full of class and reading. This is quite a heavy workweek with long hours of classes and longer readings.
23 Marzo 2010
Today we had the morning off and I did some reading, and then went to the vegetable market with Katie. It looks like Guavas are coming into season. Some species of mangos were new too. We walked back to the hometel with four bags full of fresh fruit and vegetables for $ 3.50. I am now trying to get all of my work done early (slim chance) because this afternoon I have a marine biology tutorial right before an outdoor concert by Calle 13 that I expect to be packed. One friend in FEU told us there were likely to be tens of thousands of Cubans there. This may be an exaggeration, or perhaps will be true. We’ll see.
Also, evidently, there was an earthquake in Santiago de Cuba. We’re going there for a week starting this Saturday (the 27th) but there doesn’t seem to have been much damage or any death as a result and there have been no repercussions on our part of the island.
Calle 13 was awesome. I expect that there were 10,000 people there. Katie thought it was more like a quarter of a million. The band performed a mix of trova, rap and reggaeton and the entire crowd got really into it. It was also highly politicized: Calle 13’s songs demand “Puerto Rico Libre” (like Cuba Libre) and talk about Puerto Rico as a colony of the US. We just walked back to the hometel (it took more than an hour) and now its back to the books.
21 March 2010
Wow. March 21st already? Is anyone else in shock because of how quickly time is passing? Today was a relaxed reading day until the evening when I took a maquina into town to meet Katie and some friends from FEU by the Capitolio building. About halfway through the ride we stopped to pick up another passenger. He stepped in with a HUGE cake which read ‘Happy Birthday Josefín’ in Spanish. It was covered in frosting roses and was very pink. My guess is that it is for a quinceañera, a 15th birthday party. Quinceañera are celebrated seriously here. The girls wear really detailed gowns of pink or pastel colors and ride on the back of the old convertible cars through the town accompanied by the loud honking from the driver. They also take pictures in the squares or by the most iconic sights. I have never been in a place where they were such a big event, and it is a lot of fun to see them and be reminded of them.
I got there a little early and was reading Noam Chomsky’s Hegemony or Survival on the steps. A tourist walked by (probably Canadian, or perhaps American and commented: “good book, isn’t it?” It is and I would recommend it to all.
Anyway, I met up with my friends and we went to the national theater, a gorgeous antiquated theater, home of the National Ballet (and I think the opera as well, though I’m not sure). These places didn’t open their doors to Cubans until recently, which is a little hard to swallow. Now Cuban’s pay a small fraction of the 20 dollars the tourists pay. The show we saw was folkloric dance. The African influences were very strong in the music and movement. It was entertaining and a needed break from the reading which I returned to at the hometel.
I got there a little early and was reading Noam Chomsky’s Hegemony or Survival on the steps. A tourist walked by (probably Canadian, or perhaps American and commented: “good book, isn’t it?” It is and I would recommend it to all.
Anyway, I met up with my friends and we went to the national theater, a gorgeous antiquated theater, home of the National Ballet (and I think the opera as well, though I’m not sure). These places didn’t open their doors to Cubans until recently, which is a little hard to swallow. Now Cuban’s pay a small fraction of the 20 dollars the tourists pay. The show we saw was folkloric dance. The African influences were very strong in the music and movement. It was entertaining and a needed break from the reading which I returned to at the hometel.
20 Marzo 2010
Knowing there is soon to be another cold front moving through, Katie and I took our reading to the western beaches yesterday. Nice. Breezy. Sandy.
On the bus back I was charmed by other passengers who could not help but sing along to the music the driver was playing on the radio. I need to learn the Cuban classics.
On the bus back I was charmed by other passengers who could not help but sing along to the music the driver was playing on the radio. I need to learn the Cuban classics.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
19 Marzo 2010
On march 19th in the morning we drove to the Ministry of Agriculture. Agriculture, like all other large scale ‘projects’- or systems in Cuba, was nationalized after the triumph of the revolution in 1959. This implies a couple of things.
1. There are no large land owners or US companies with massive plots like the United Fruit Co. etc. One can only imagine the rage of these companies when they were kicked out of the country
2. The crops that farmers grow, and the cattle they raise, all of their agricultural products belong to the state.
There are exceptions. Much of the land was redistributed by breaking it in to much smaller plots and giving it to already farming individuals or campesinos, but some was distributed to a collection of farmers for cooperatives- and the cooperatives have ownership that is more similar to private ownership. After our meeting at the Ministry we drove to see one such cooperative (and because of the general idea of cooperatives and my time in Guatemala, I fell in love in and didn’t want to leave- but that is a different story).
I’ve written before about the rumor (joke??) that it is worse to kill a cow than another human here. Again, I’m not sure that is true. I can’t imagine working my whole life to raise cattle and then giving them to the government for national distribution, when it is likely as a farmer with a low salary I can’t afford to buy meat- that meat goes instead to the slightly sunburned tourist from Portland, ME. Agriculture is another aspect of life here that is difficult to wrap one’s mind around.
The only other thing I’ll say- as this entry is entirely too long already- is that a lot of the agriculture here is done in a very green way. This is out of necessity, not by choice. As we walked through the coop. the director said, “careful, watch out…that’s from our tractor”. He was referring to oxen droppings. The produce and profit from urban gardens goes directly to the gardener, and they must be organic if they are in the city.
Another difficulty is that all Cubans have equal access to education. This is the only country I can think of- and Fidel Castro has said something similar- where there is a problem because of the fact that everyone is highly educated. In short, there is a shortage of job applicants in the farmland.
1. There are no large land owners or US companies with massive plots like the United Fruit Co. etc. One can only imagine the rage of these companies when they were kicked out of the country
2. The crops that farmers grow, and the cattle they raise, all of their agricultural products belong to the state.
There are exceptions. Much of the land was redistributed by breaking it in to much smaller plots and giving it to already farming individuals or campesinos, but some was distributed to a collection of farmers for cooperatives- and the cooperatives have ownership that is more similar to private ownership. After our meeting at the Ministry we drove to see one such cooperative (and because of the general idea of cooperatives and my time in Guatemala, I fell in love in and didn’t want to leave- but that is a different story).
I’ve written before about the rumor (joke??) that it is worse to kill a cow than another human here. Again, I’m not sure that is true. I can’t imagine working my whole life to raise cattle and then giving them to the government for national distribution, when it is likely as a farmer with a low salary I can’t afford to buy meat- that meat goes instead to the slightly sunburned tourist from Portland, ME. Agriculture is another aspect of life here that is difficult to wrap one’s mind around.
The only other thing I’ll say- as this entry is entirely too long already- is that a lot of the agriculture here is done in a very green way. This is out of necessity, not by choice. As we walked through the coop. the director said, “careful, watch out…that’s from our tractor”. He was referring to oxen droppings. The produce and profit from urban gardens goes directly to the gardener, and they must be organic if they are in the city.
Another difficulty is that all Cubans have equal access to education. This is the only country I can think of- and Fidel Castro has said something similar- where there is a problem because of the fact that everyone is highly educated. In short, there is a shortage of job applicants in the farmland.
19 Marzo
whew, almost caught up on the blog- this is hard! Even harder, is to write a blog I would want to read. Here goes an honest effort!!
18 Marzo 2010
Another first class: US/Cuban relations. Our teacher, Rosa, was wonderful. I haven’t this much fun in a history class since high school and I took 7 pages of single-spaced typed notes to show for it. Now, I’m left with a brain full of new information and a reading list to the ceiling.
At two, we had a visit to the Escuela Latino America del Medicino. Scholarship students from all over Latin America (and even some from the United States) come to Cuba for a rigorous seven-year program in medicine. They spend three years at the school in classes, and then four years dispersed in practice in all the provinces of Cuba. All of it is free for the students. I REALLY wish I were interested in medical biology or being a doctor.
Oh! Also, in the evening we went to a public neighborhood election and after we walked our friend from CESEU home and talked over tea. I think people in the United States aren’t fully aware that Cuba is a democracy. I, certainly, was a bit misconceived.
At two, we had a visit to the Escuela Latino America del Medicino. Scholarship students from all over Latin America (and even some from the United States) come to Cuba for a rigorous seven-year program in medicine. They spend three years at the school in classes, and then four years dispersed in practice in all the provinces of Cuba. All of it is free for the students. I REALLY wish I were interested in medical biology or being a doctor.
Oh! Also, in the evening we went to a public neighborhood election and after we walked our friend from CESEU home and talked over tea. I think people in the United States aren’t fully aware that Cuba is a democracy. I, certainly, was a bit misconceived.
17 Marzo 2010
Today was our first History, Politics and Society of Cuba class. It is incredible to me that I hadn’t started it before the 17th, and it really just entails long classes every day of the week and, of course, more reading. As you can imagine, it was great to learn about the history (we started with early history too: we learned about the indigenous Cubans then moved to the 13 US colonies, our civil war, and the Cuban transition to freedom after the North won).
16 March 2010
Diving was canceled today. There was another cold front system moving through and we’re trying to move to the actual ocean. It is very frustrating; I want to dive!!!.
In the afternoon I had a class with Prof. Julia Azanza called ‘Marine Sea Turtles’. I LOVE sea turtles. These living dinosaurs are so incredible and really so much of their lives are not yet understood. The lecture really reignited my interest to do more work with sea turtles in the future.
In the afternoon I had a class with Prof. Julia Azanza called ‘Marine Sea Turtles’. I LOVE sea turtles. These living dinosaurs are so incredible and really so much of their lives are not yet understood. The lecture really reignited my interest to do more work with sea turtles in the future.
15 March 2010
Bright and early we had Third World Underdevelopment and Politics Class for which we read a collection of essays by Fidel Castro called “Globalization in Crisis”. I would highly recommend reading some of Fidel’s essays and speeches to anyone interested in international politics. They are very well written and interesting regardless of your position on the man himself. Again, I really should not discuss politics on my blog, but one thing I feel entirely comfortable standing behind is that Cuba should not be on the United State’s list of terrorist nations. Really, that proposition is preposterous. Also, I would encourage any reader interested in US Cuban relations to research the Cuban 5. I have not been able to look up the American perspective yet, HOWEVER, you cannot go anywhere in Cuba with out seeing references to the Cuban 5 and their trial in the States.
Okay enough of that.
Okay enough of that.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
3/12- 3/14 Viñales
Katie and I arrived to Viñales at around 5:30 or 6. First to do was to find a casa particular. Casa particulars are the private homes that are rented to visitors. Most cost about 20 dollars per room. They must of course pay large taxes on each guest they have, and some places run unofficial casa particulares for this purpose. Well Viñales has no shortage of casa particulares, it seems, in fact, that every house has a room or two to rent. We traveled to one in the lonely planet, which was occupied, but she called her neighbor for us and sent us across the street. We set up camp, and after an awful experience at a government run restaurant, we returned back to the house of a huge feast of dinner for 6 dollars “student” rate. The quality of food at the private casa particulares is recommended over that of the public restaurants because the casas get more business when they get good reviews or by word of mouth recommendations, where as the government run restaurants don’t get paid by number of customers- there is no personal interest. Because there is no tipping, service in Cuba is really pretty bad- but understandably so…
Saturday morning we got up early try and find a cave with a swimming hole mentioned in the Lonely Planet. We received some vague directions from our host’s nephew: ‘a right at the end of the block, go straight as long as you can, then turn right and ask somebody where the entrance is’. We passed many skinny horses and also farmers who greeted us with a tip of the hat, or a quiet “Buenos”. A few people asked if we wanted to rent horses to ride while we were still near the town center. But soon, we were in the less traveled path (though the tourists that travel to Viñales are the backpacker type, not easily discouraged by distance. Anyway, when we inquired about our cave mostly people made a vague gesture ahead and said ‘over there’. We are accustomed to this type of direction. Where can I find ______? “that way”. At one point, after about half an hour of walking through the gorgeous Cuban countryside and surrounded by Tobacco fields and Migotes, we approached a small wooden house where a small boy his father, and what appeared to be his father’s father getting ready to go to the fields. After asking after our cave, the oldest gentlemen told us he would accompany us down the road a ways on his horse in the right direction (free of course, I won’t charge you anything- he assured us). We talked with him about some of the things we’ve heard from city Cubans.
“Is it true” we asked “that a man would serve more years in prison for killing a cow than for killing another man?”
He chuckled a bit and replied “Yes. Even the cows I have raised all my life, I don’t own”.
This of course leaves without answer about the capital penalty of killing the government’s livestock. It was an interesting question to discuss with him. During this walk we thought we heard water. We asked him about it and were detoured through his pasture (don’t mind the animals, they won’t hurt you!) to a valley between migotes. We thanked him and explored a little bit before settling down and eating a picnic lunch alone in the countryside. It was pristine. Half an hour later we were back on our pursuit after carefully closing the gate to the pasture as we had been instructed.
Not far after, as we passed one house on a hill a pair of women asked us to come talk with them. We introduced ourselves and explained what we were doing in the area (searching for a cave which at this point we were pretty certain we weren’t going to find). They invited us for coffee and assured us, that, as this is the country, they couldn’t charge anything, they were simply inviting us for the talk. It was such a kind gesture. Unfortunately, Katie didn’t feel wonderful, and we declined but promised to stop by if we passed back the same way and they were still outside. “Even if we aren’t outside! Come on into the kitchen” they insisted as we continued.
Eventually we got fed up with directions such as “turn left after the big house coming up" (trust me, there were no big houses) and we gave up. We turned around but traveled in a parallel path back to try and find the mural painted after the revolution by Diego Rivera along a giant rock face. We found it alright. It is… bizarre. I personally think it is ugly and jarring. As we passed the house across the “street” (path) from the rock face/a tourist restaurant I asked the couple outside if “they liked the mural, or if they thought it was ugly?” Luckily I mumbled the second half of my question. It turns out the man was one of the original painters. He told us what everything symbolized. The red alien people are supposed to be the indigenous people of Cuba. I have NO idea what the shells represent or even what the thing in the middle is. I’ll let you be the judge dear art critic readers:
Viñales continued:
Warning: I’m simply going to continue to write about the events from our weekend away in the country. Really nothing too cultural or specific to Cuba so… skip it! You can see by now that i’m clearly not good with brevity.
Anyway, to continue. We arrived back at our casa particular with dirt in our shoes and a pleasant sense of exhaustion. A short nap later we sat in two metal rocking chairs in the patio. People from the house came to check if we had found the cave and were overall very friendly. They asked what we were doing for dinner. We had bought some bread rolls and told them we were probably just going to settle for that. Now, this experience was unlike many others we’ve had in this country because I think our hosts were very well off. The owner of the houses brother lived with his wife in Germany and seems to send euros home during his early visits. Of course, they also have access to the many times more valuable CUC rather than just national money. Anyway, one of the guys proclaimed that one simply could not eat dinner with out meat (a large population of Cubans can’t afford meat with dinner- or any other meal). Everything worked out in our benefit. “These poor students need meat” they proclaimed and disappeared into the kitchen. They returned with mojitos, tomatoes sliced with salt and some vinegar (which is salad here) and sliced chorizo with a really good sauce. We shared food (and contributed some star fruit we were given at a beautiful local orchid garden that morning), played dominoes, Katie won a game of dominoes, immediately stopped playing dominoes, and practiced Spanish. It was clear that the gentlemen in the family expected us to go out to the disco with them after all their generous mojitos, but we decided to go to bed at 1030 instead.
Sunday we woke up early. We had breakfast at the house and rented two old bicycles with questionable breaking systems. When we picked up the bikes, the man who lent them to us asked what time it was. 9:00 I told him. He asked a guy biking past. 10, he called over his shoulder. It turns out our early start was shifted an hour by daylight savings. Considering we had to catch a bus later, this could have been bad. Anyway, it was nice being in a city that was a bit more bike friendly than Havana. We biked into the national park and were honked at by tourist buses to move over and had a wonderful time. We settled on stopping for a natural cave that was actually on the map and walked through, finishing our tour behind a giant group of ‘Canadian dance troupe kids’. It was fun, but I’m not sure I’d do it again. Regardless, cave- check!
We took the bus home, a little reluctant to be done with our wonderful trip away.
Saturday morning we got up early try and find a cave with a swimming hole mentioned in the Lonely Planet. We received some vague directions from our host’s nephew: ‘a right at the end of the block, go straight as long as you can, then turn right and ask somebody where the entrance is’. We passed many skinny horses and also farmers who greeted us with a tip of the hat, or a quiet “Buenos”. A few people asked if we wanted to rent horses to ride while we were still near the town center. But soon, we were in the less traveled path (though the tourists that travel to Viñales are the backpacker type, not easily discouraged by distance. Anyway, when we inquired about our cave mostly people made a vague gesture ahead and said ‘over there’. We are accustomed to this type of direction. Where can I find ______? “that way”. At one point, after about half an hour of walking through the gorgeous Cuban countryside and surrounded by Tobacco fields and Migotes, we approached a small wooden house where a small boy his father, and what appeared to be his father’s father getting ready to go to the fields. After asking after our cave, the oldest gentlemen told us he would accompany us down the road a ways on his horse in the right direction (free of course, I won’t charge you anything- he assured us). We talked with him about some of the things we’ve heard from city Cubans.
“Is it true” we asked “that a man would serve more years in prison for killing a cow than for killing another man?”
He chuckled a bit and replied “Yes. Even the cows I have raised all my life, I don’t own”.
This of course leaves without answer about the capital penalty of killing the government’s livestock. It was an interesting question to discuss with him. During this walk we thought we heard water. We asked him about it and were detoured through his pasture (don’t mind the animals, they won’t hurt you!) to a valley between migotes. We thanked him and explored a little bit before settling down and eating a picnic lunch alone in the countryside. It was pristine. Half an hour later we were back on our pursuit after carefully closing the gate to the pasture as we had been instructed.
Not far after, as we passed one house on a hill a pair of women asked us to come talk with them. We introduced ourselves and explained what we were doing in the area (searching for a cave which at this point we were pretty certain we weren’t going to find). They invited us for coffee and assured us, that, as this is the country, they couldn’t charge anything, they were simply inviting us for the talk. It was such a kind gesture. Unfortunately, Katie didn’t feel wonderful, and we declined but promised to stop by if we passed back the same way and they were still outside. “Even if we aren’t outside! Come on into the kitchen” they insisted as we continued.
Eventually we got fed up with directions such as “turn left after the big house coming up" (trust me, there were no big houses) and we gave up. We turned around but traveled in a parallel path back to try and find the mural painted after the revolution by Diego Rivera along a giant rock face. We found it alright. It is… bizarre. I personally think it is ugly and jarring. As we passed the house across the “street” (path) from the rock face/a tourist restaurant I asked the couple outside if “they liked the mural, or if they thought it was ugly?” Luckily I mumbled the second half of my question. It turns out the man was one of the original painters. He told us what everything symbolized. The red alien people are supposed to be the indigenous people of Cuba. I have NO idea what the shells represent or even what the thing in the middle is. I’ll let you be the judge dear art critic readers:
Viñales continued:
Warning: I’m simply going to continue to write about the events from our weekend away in the country. Really nothing too cultural or specific to Cuba so… skip it! You can see by now that i’m clearly not good with brevity.
Anyway, to continue. We arrived back at our casa particular with dirt in our shoes and a pleasant sense of exhaustion. A short nap later we sat in two metal rocking chairs in the patio. People from the house came to check if we had found the cave and were overall very friendly. They asked what we were doing for dinner. We had bought some bread rolls and told them we were probably just going to settle for that. Now, this experience was unlike many others we’ve had in this country because I think our hosts were very well off. The owner of the houses brother lived with his wife in Germany and seems to send euros home during his early visits. Of course, they also have access to the many times more valuable CUC rather than just national money. Anyway, one of the guys proclaimed that one simply could not eat dinner with out meat (a large population of Cubans can’t afford meat with dinner- or any other meal). Everything worked out in our benefit. “These poor students need meat” they proclaimed and disappeared into the kitchen. They returned with mojitos, tomatoes sliced with salt and some vinegar (which is salad here) and sliced chorizo with a really good sauce. We shared food (and contributed some star fruit we were given at a beautiful local orchid garden that morning), played dominoes, Katie won a game of dominoes, immediately stopped playing dominoes, and practiced Spanish. It was clear that the gentlemen in the family expected us to go out to the disco with them after all their generous mojitos, but we decided to go to bed at 1030 instead.
Sunday we woke up early. We had breakfast at the house and rented two old bicycles with questionable breaking systems. When we picked up the bikes, the man who lent them to us asked what time it was. 9:00 I told him. He asked a guy biking past. 10, he called over his shoulder. It turns out our early start was shifted an hour by daylight savings. Considering we had to catch a bus later, this could have been bad. Anyway, it was nice being in a city that was a bit more bike friendly than Havana. We biked into the national park and were honked at by tourist buses to move over and had a wonderful time. We settled on stopping for a natural cave that was actually on the map and walked through, finishing our tour behind a giant group of ‘Canadian dance troupe kids’. It was fun, but I’m not sure I’d do it again. Regardless, cave- check!
We took the bus home, a little reluctant to be done with our wonderful trip away.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
12 March 2010
Katie and I decided to travel independently of the program to Viñales for the weekend after our two visits on the 12th. The visits were pretty cool. First we went to the center for genetic biological study. This is where a lot of genetic research is being done. A variety of projects are chosen to study, some address illnesses that can be cured in the following few years, then some require more time for research, and other long term projects are also taken on, such as a cure for cancer and AIDS. It is pretty incredible. The most lasting thing I took from the center was the motivation behind developing this research. 1) the primary goal is to eliminate the problem in Cuba. For example, they have essentially eliminated Hep B because they vaccinate all new borns. The next phase is collaboration and to take the drugs/research to the market. 2) The personal motivation for being a doctor is very different in Cuba. It is true that there are some in the tourist industry that may make even more money than a family doctor. Not only this, but patents are granted to the institutions for whom the researchers work, never to the researchers themselves. The guy we talked to worked on three of the now globally marketed projects, but when he leaves, he will have no proof of his contribution besides a personal satisfaction, which brings me to 3). Our genetic researcher who showed us around explained that he feels an immense sense of guilt that when he isn’t researching, he could be curing fellow Cubans. If the team of researchers at the center do no perform well, do not discover enough genetic mutations or cures even, they all but loose their jobs, demoted to less primary researching positions. It is very interesting to me, especially as I think about perusing biological research. We also visited a similar center of immunology medicine. Then, we got dropped off at the bus station for a three hour ride to Viñales.
11 Marzo 2010
Several times a week we have program visits. These visits are so informative but sometimes, such as after a week of classes, and Spanish, and readings, they are a bit hard to handle. On Thursday we went to a conference at CIEM- basically a center for the study of world economics. Hate to say it, but we’re not looking too good, people. We learned a bit about the free trade agreements and some counter movements which are promoted for more equality in the markets. (ALCA vs ALBA). Then we headed to the center of Asian investigations. I take my classes through at the center that is the Asian centers equivalent except for N. America. The presenters were a bit nervous because a lot of what they had to say had to do with the wrongs committed by the United States in dealing with Asia. They talked about some interesting stuff, but this visit was the most unrelated to what I’m interested in and experiencing here. Thursday was a day of visits (I am writing this on the 17th. I’ve gotten quite behind again).
10 Marzo 2010
Today is Katie’s Birthday! And my dad’s too for that matter. Happy Birthday everyone! So we’ve planned some surprises. I got up early and made French toast and then we all headed over to third world underdevelopment and politics. Throughout the day there were more thrills such as the powerpoint background in class and some chocolate. Veronika and I went to pick up the cake after Spanish along with some laundry we brought it back in a maquina and at every bump (of which there were many) I gasped. I spent much of the afternoon drawing on notebook paper for decoration of our wrapping paper tapped with duck tape none less! Then we had cake and presents with some fresh coffee. Later we took the bus to Jazz café, where there was some afro Cuban jazz. The food was delicious, the mojitos were fun and it all added up to a great night. Highlight presents include: the dinner of course, a dominoes set, Cuban coffee cups and some local crafts.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
8 Marzo, 2010
This morning, a bit travel weary we got up early for our second diving adventure. Greater success this time. Also, it is International Women’s Day! Happy Women’s day? I like this holiday because our diving instructor, CoCo bough Katie and I chocolate bars before our dive in the pool. I can now share my extra respirator, successfully clean my mask (by removing it and reapplying it), and I feel a bit more in control. Today is also a day of groceries. Which means I must go to the bank again tomorrow. Luckily the Canadian dollar is stronger than ever (perhaps due to the Olympics) so it is a good time to do this business. This afternoon I learned about Coral Reefs and Reef Systems. As we’ve heard before, our reefs are dying and global warming has a large part to do with it. I cannot wait to see the corals here. Even the pictures alone are pretty inspiring.
Not too much cultural stuff to report today.
Not too much cultural stuff to report today.
Friday, March 19, 2010
7 March 2010
Ten hour bus ride. Cuban country-side is still fascinating. Old cars zip by horses pulling buggies. Hitchhikers wave small bills as you pass. In the fields, campesinos overturn the dirt by hand and direct massive pairs of oxen to trudge through the red earth. Smokey air fills our nostrils when we pass one of several burning fields. Ribby horses on the side of the road munch on green grass under hulking palm trees. We bought some ‘maíz de maní’- a sweet peanut bar with milk and honey- and our driver bought a giant slab of cheese from street-side venders.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Pictures of Las Tunas and Camagüey
This is where you get everything fixed, from sole of your shoe to the tip of your umbrella.
Soon I will post a collection of billboards; in any case I like this picture for the car driving by and the frequency with which I see this scene.
This was the bus system not long before we got here- and clearly, in some places still today. Now we ride on crouded Chinese busses, but I have to say I'm glad I missed time of true Camelos. Check them out under google images.
And Lastly, the iconic Marti reading La Edad de Oro to a child.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
March 6 2010
Las Tunas is a pretty small city. I like it better than Camagüey, but I can’t quite pinpoint why. There are very few tourists here, which is very nice. Today was a day of museums. I am pretty much museum’d out so I’ll save you all the details! In short, this morning we went to several museums that document both the recent revolution (the one with the victory in 1959) and also Cuba’s struggle for independence from Spain. Then we went to the house of a youth who had died aboard a Cuban plane bombed in the 70s. One point- a few of these museums have had rocks or stones from the various cities where famous events took place- one had rocks from Bolivia near where Che’s guerillas were killed-which is strange, because the rocks really have nothing to do with the history.
Tonight we have an event at a local CDR. Not sure what to expect!
I’ve just returned to our hotel after our visit to the CDR. It was incredible. I had been feeling pretty travel weary and disinclined to go out again after all this morning’s museums, but this excursion was well worth it. I really hate it when people put on a show and make a big deal about our attendance, but then again, it is a pretty cool way to get to know the country. Let me explain: We arrive to a closed off street. There are tables with lots of food set out, one with a giant cake, another with laces on display, and another with other handcrafts of Cuba. Lots of people are mulling around; some are congregated around a karaoke like machine, but it is playing traditional music instead of pop. They present the leaders of the CDR and of the neighborhood and sing the national anthem. A few of the children sing for us and one (dressed as a bee) goes to retrieve flowers and brings them back to us as well. They gave us each a bag with a book of stories about las Tunas, as well as a Spanish copy of ‘The Little Prince’ (oh, how I love that book!). Then, they escorted us through a procession of the tables, and fed us deserts and a stew they made for the occasion. The kids would run up and say something in English: “ I am smart” or “Will you marry me?” or, “where are you from” and would run away again to learn more before we could respond. Evidently they have these street parties when any visitors come, but it seemed especially extravagant to me. I think everyone had a good time, and Dr. McKelvey addressed the crowd to thank them and to say how he hoped our two countries could work together in the future and learn from each other etc etc. We got to talk with many of the neighborhood members and I hope we made as good an impression on them as they did for us!
Feelings: fat and happy. Dreading the 8.5 hour bus-sans-shocks ride tomorrow.
Tonight we have an event at a local CDR. Not sure what to expect!
I’ve just returned to our hotel after our visit to the CDR. It was incredible. I had been feeling pretty travel weary and disinclined to go out again after all this morning’s museums, but this excursion was well worth it. I really hate it when people put on a show and make a big deal about our attendance, but then again, it is a pretty cool way to get to know the country. Let me explain: We arrive to a closed off street. There are tables with lots of food set out, one with a giant cake, another with laces on display, and another with other handcrafts of Cuba. Lots of people are mulling around; some are congregated around a karaoke like machine, but it is playing traditional music instead of pop. They present the leaders of the CDR and of the neighborhood and sing the national anthem. A few of the children sing for us and one (dressed as a bee) goes to retrieve flowers and brings them back to us as well. They gave us each a bag with a book of stories about las Tunas, as well as a Spanish copy of ‘The Little Prince’ (oh, how I love that book!). Then, they escorted us through a procession of the tables, and fed us deserts and a stew they made for the occasion. The kids would run up and say something in English: “ I am smart” or “Will you marry me?” or, “where are you from” and would run away again to learn more before we could respond. Evidently they have these street parties when any visitors come, but it seemed especially extravagant to me. I think everyone had a good time, and Dr. McKelvey addressed the crowd to thank them and to say how he hoped our two countries could work together in the future and learn from each other etc etc. We got to talk with many of the neighborhood members and I hope we made as good an impression on them as they did for us!
Feelings: fat and happy. Dreading the 8.5 hour bus-sans-shocks ride tomorrow.
5/3/10
This morning we got up early for breakfast buffet in the hotel. I hate staying in these touristy places and not eating in the actual town, but they are the cheapest options available (by a lot). We were all packed and ready to go before hand so after the meal we hit the van and drove into town. Camagüey isn’t known for a particular event in the recent revolution here, but instead used to be a big sugar mill and cattle stock town. We went to a few museums, one remembering the students who fought for Cuban Independence (and later died with Che in Bolivia) and another that was an old Spanish colonial mansion dedicated to the 19th century of Cuban history. It was definitely cool to see what one of these old houses might have looked like. In one square we were admiring some public statues of local people sitting on benches, two lovers and the last statue depicting a man reading the newspaper. For this last one, we did a double take. There he was! The actual man (Norberto) was sitting next to his statue reading the paper. We talked to him a bit and kept exploring.
We are now approximately 8 hours drive from Havana. Even on the map it looks far! After our museums we drove two more hours to Las Tunas where we will pass the next two days exploring the city and the museums.
We are now approximately 8 hours drive from Havana. Even on the map it looks far! After our museums we drove two more hours to Las Tunas where we will pass the next two days exploring the city and the museums.
March 4th, 2010
Yesterday we began another month of Spanish classes, this time much less frequent just to keep us in practice. Because there are only three of us, they could not provide us with our own teacher as expected so we began class with the Alabama kids who live in our hotel (by chance- what a small island huh?) and guess what!? It was too easy. Kind of nice to feel like I’ve improved even just a little. Hopefully we’ll figure out some better option. After class we went to a 24 hour sandwich stop, a busy pizza place, and a stand by the bus stop- none of which were open for lunch. Oh well. That morning we started the day with Third World Underdevelopment and Politics class near the hometel where we got into a heated argument about a recent news story about a political prisoner dying of a hunger strike in a Cuban prison. It was exhausting.
Then today we got up early and hoped on a bus to Camagüey for a program excursion. Parts of my credit hours include various visits and these trips to other parts of the island. I had a really great time on the last excursion to Santa Clara, and I promise to take some pictures while here as I’ve left the camera in its bag recently- my apologies.
I don’t know much about Camagüey or Las Tunas, but it is an inland area in the middle of the island. We spent pretty much the entire day on a long (seven hour) and extremely bouncy ride (no shocks on the bus and bad roads) through the country. Totally worth it; I really enjoy the country landscape, the horse carts and the giant oxen trudging through the red dirt.
Then today we got up early and hoped on a bus to Camagüey for a program excursion. Parts of my credit hours include various visits and these trips to other parts of the island. I had a really great time on the last excursion to Santa Clara, and I promise to take some pictures while here as I’ve left the camera in its bag recently- my apologies.
I don’t know much about Camagüey or Las Tunas, but it is an inland area in the middle of the island. We spent pretty much the entire day on a long (seven hour) and extremely bouncy ride (no shocks on the bus and bad roads) through the country. Totally worth it; I really enjoy the country landscape, the horse carts and the giant oxen trudging through the red dirt.
March 2, 2010
Quick recap of the weekend:
Sunday the 28th I met up with Eleanora on her last day here to go and see the documentary on the popular musical group here, VanVan. The film was called Eso Que Anda. It was a little hard to understand, but I definitely understood my ten cents worth. It was also really nice to finally see some Cuban film in a Cuban cinema that I’ve heard so much about. Our final meeting with Eleanora was too short. She returned to Italy on Monday and I hope she had safe and uneventful travels.
Then, Monday, with my mind at ease about my friends in Chile (and Hawaii for that matter!) we had a meeting with a minister of Health. Raj, you would have found this stuff really interesting after your research in Santa Anita. Also, as a side note: For all those Americans who cringe at Obama’s “socializing the health care system”, two things. 1) In no way shape or form is our health care system ‘socialized’. Quit being ridiculous and 2) the Cuban health care system, which IS socialized (and is one of the priorities of the Cuban government along with education), is quite admirable and impressive. Everybody (appropriately translated in Cuba as the Spanish ‘todo el mundo’ -‘all the world’) has access to free health care. And of course, Cuban doctors and medics are some of the most advanced in the field of medicine and medical research. After talking with the minister we visited a family practice (the first step of medical care- a neighborhood doctor where one would go if they had a serious cold). Like all other things in Cuba it felt very… vintage. My first scan of the small visiting room yielded a cloth draped over the metal visitors table, shots administered out of glass injectors- nothing disposable only reusable, and medical kits that look like they belonged in a museum. The larger Polyclinic where there is an emergency room and where doctors can provide more specialized services was not much different. In the blood works room were a few old microscopes, glass plates and slide covers. They had less than my public high school’s chemistry laboratory. It makes one feel bad about every glass pipette she has ever broken.
Of course some don’t seek treatment. I am thinking specifically of a few people who practice Santeria and wish to become saints in an effort to seek better health. But this is a minority. Remember that I “was able” to test out the Cuban health care system my first week here; all free. The Cuban health care system is focused on early diagnostics and early treatment in an effort to prevent more expensive and difficult treatment farther along in the infirmity. They also encourage more traditional methods of maintaining health such as eating certain foods and staying active. I’ve even seen some natural remedy pharmacies.
And that brings us to today! My first diving lesson!
My hometel was being difficult and for some reason would not permit us to dive in the pool, so we gathered the equipment and drove to another hotel for the first lesson. In theory, it is SO FUN, but in practice, I find it a little tricky. Remembering to do the simplest things underwater- such as exhaling is easier said than done. I’m certainly not a fish yet, but I can’t wait for the next lesson to improve my ear pressure gauging skills.
My marine bio tutorial today was on macro-algaes and sea grasses. Pretty cool stuff; didn’t see any of it in the pool.
Sunday the 28th I met up with Eleanora on her last day here to go and see the documentary on the popular musical group here, VanVan. The film was called Eso Que Anda. It was a little hard to understand, but I definitely understood my ten cents worth. It was also really nice to finally see some Cuban film in a Cuban cinema that I’ve heard so much about. Our final meeting with Eleanora was too short. She returned to Italy on Monday and I hope she had safe and uneventful travels.
Then, Monday, with my mind at ease about my friends in Chile (and Hawaii for that matter!) we had a meeting with a minister of Health. Raj, you would have found this stuff really interesting after your research in Santa Anita. Also, as a side note: For all those Americans who cringe at Obama’s “socializing the health care system”, two things. 1) In no way shape or form is our health care system ‘socialized’. Quit being ridiculous and 2) the Cuban health care system, which IS socialized (and is one of the priorities of the Cuban government along with education), is quite admirable and impressive. Everybody (appropriately translated in Cuba as the Spanish ‘todo el mundo’ -‘all the world’) has access to free health care. And of course, Cuban doctors and medics are some of the most advanced in the field of medicine and medical research. After talking with the minister we visited a family practice (the first step of medical care- a neighborhood doctor where one would go if they had a serious cold). Like all other things in Cuba it felt very… vintage. My first scan of the small visiting room yielded a cloth draped over the metal visitors table, shots administered out of glass injectors- nothing disposable only reusable, and medical kits that look like they belonged in a museum. The larger Polyclinic where there is an emergency room and where doctors can provide more specialized services was not much different. In the blood works room were a few old microscopes, glass plates and slide covers. They had less than my public high school’s chemistry laboratory. It makes one feel bad about every glass pipette she has ever broken.
Of course some don’t seek treatment. I am thinking specifically of a few people who practice Santeria and wish to become saints in an effort to seek better health. But this is a minority. Remember that I “was able” to test out the Cuban health care system my first week here; all free. The Cuban health care system is focused on early diagnostics and early treatment in an effort to prevent more expensive and difficult treatment farther along in the infirmity. They also encourage more traditional methods of maintaining health such as eating certain foods and staying active. I’ve even seen some natural remedy pharmacies.
And that brings us to today! My first diving lesson!
My hometel was being difficult and for some reason would not permit us to dive in the pool, so we gathered the equipment and drove to another hotel for the first lesson. In theory, it is SO FUN, but in practice, I find it a little tricky. Remembering to do the simplest things underwater- such as exhaling is easier said than done. I’m certainly not a fish yet, but I can’t wait for the next lesson to improve my ear pressure gauging skills.
My marine bio tutorial today was on macro-algaes and sea grasses. Pretty cool stuff; didn’t see any of it in the pool.
2/27/10 rain day
Rainy this morning. We watched some movies at the FEU office. Now I’m glued to the tv covering the earthquake in Chile and the Tsunami warnings in Hawaii. I guess all we can do is hope for the best.
2/26/10
Well. The last few days have been very disenchanting. Last night we wanted to go out to eat with our good Italian friend from Spanish class. As the three of us we were walking down a fairly large street a guy comes out of nowhere and grabs Eleanora’s purse. They struggle over it a bit until he pushes her to the curb and takes off. We ran after him for a spell, but he was quite tall and extremely fast. He turned the corner as we yelled “Ladron” after him and called for help. No one did anything. As we turned the corner ourselves one man indicated the direction in which he had run, but he was long gone. It was an unpleasant wake up call. The streets of Havana have many police officers (one way Cuba deals with unemployment is through construction and police jobs), but I think we had forgotten to be extra aware. The truth is, Cuba is a very safe country; it is highly unlikely you will be physically hurt. But, in part just being in a city, in part because of economics, and perhaps even due to the nature of humanity, petty thievery is common. Anyway, poor Eleonora had some money, her cell and her camera stolen so that put quite a damper on our evening. It was the first encounter I’ve ever had with theft, and it was a pretty aggressive act. The rest of the night we were pretty preoccupied rehashing it in our minds.
Not too preoccupied to notice a couple cockroaches (lets pretend they were beetles shall we?) crawling around, and to be especially put off by catcalls. “Do you girls want boyfriends?” a group asked at the bus station, to which Eleanora replied jokingly under her breath, “I’d be more interested in a boyfriend if I could have my purse too”. We also had an extremely difficult time finding transportation back to our hotel without having to pay the unofficial “gringa tax”.
In the last few days I’ve encountered more and more Cubans who present to me their worries and doubts about life here. In the last few days we’ve heard about how while the intentions and ideas of the leaders here are strong, they are not fulfilled or effective. What has affected me the most is hearing people I’ve come to know speak about faults of the system (with very balanced opinions, I’m not referring to any counter movements here). They speak with hushed voices, and encourage the dialog to be very quiet.
So, I find myself needing to be more careful. I should not feel so settled that I neglect to be hypersensitive to my surroundings (though, honestly, I feel like that robbery would have happened even if we had been guarding our purses like a fox guards its pups (considerably). I also need to be careful not to put any person in a position where they are made uncomfortable. As I learn more about the true relationship between this country and my own, my appreciation grows for the opportunity to study here and witness it, but I realize I’m not just a tourist or an exchange student either. Lastly, a blog is a very public thing. I’m not sure how valid are the fears that the censorship here extends into public places as surveillance, but I think I should save most political and social commentary for actual conversations with you all upon my return.
Anyway, we got back late, and for this reason I was very tired during our last Spanish class today. After, I picked up some laundry from the Lavanderia and we’ve pretty much called it a week since. It has been quite filled with activity and I’m fairly exhausted.
Not too preoccupied to notice a couple cockroaches (lets pretend they were beetles shall we?) crawling around, and to be especially put off by catcalls. “Do you girls want boyfriends?” a group asked at the bus station, to which Eleanora replied jokingly under her breath, “I’d be more interested in a boyfriend if I could have my purse too”. We also had an extremely difficult time finding transportation back to our hotel without having to pay the unofficial “gringa tax”.
In the last few days I’ve encountered more and more Cubans who present to me their worries and doubts about life here. In the last few days we’ve heard about how while the intentions and ideas of the leaders here are strong, they are not fulfilled or effective. What has affected me the most is hearing people I’ve come to know speak about faults of the system (with very balanced opinions, I’m not referring to any counter movements here). They speak with hushed voices, and encourage the dialog to be very quiet.
So, I find myself needing to be more careful. I should not feel so settled that I neglect to be hypersensitive to my surroundings (though, honestly, I feel like that robbery would have happened even if we had been guarding our purses like a fox guards its pups (considerably). I also need to be careful not to put any person in a position where they are made uncomfortable. As I learn more about the true relationship between this country and my own, my appreciation grows for the opportunity to study here and witness it, but I realize I’m not just a tourist or an exchange student either. Lastly, a blog is a very public thing. I’m not sure how valid are the fears that the censorship here extends into public places as surveillance, but I think I should save most political and social commentary for actual conversations with you all upon my return.
Anyway, we got back late, and for this reason I was very tired during our last Spanish class today. After, I picked up some laundry from the Lavanderia and we’ve pretty much called it a week since. It has been quite filled with activity and I’m fairly exhausted.
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