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.