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.

2.18.10

I feel like I should explain a bit about how my program here abroad functions. I am taking two courses at the Center for Marine Research, which is located in Havana- a 25-minute walk from my residence. There I will be attending several tutorials by different lecturers on Tropical Marine Ecology. My second class at the center will be a diving class. The rest of my classes have a strong International Relations/Social Sciences focus. I am taking a theory class called Third World Underdevelopment and Politics, and a History of US and Cuban Relations class. These classes are held in my neighborhood also, and offered by Presbyterian college in conjunction with the Center for Western Hemispheric studies (part of the University of Havana). Lastly I am taking Spanish class at the University of Havana in the department of foreign languages. Part of my credit hours includes program excursions and educational visits; for example our recent trip to Santa Clara. We’ve had several incredible excursions already: we’ve met with the local branch of government, representatives of the university system, and have been to several museums, among others.

Our program expedition after Spanish class today was tremendously interesting. After Spanish the group walked downtown to MINED, the Ministry of Education. We picked up the director and were driven to a primary school just outside of the city. We were told we had arrived a little early and were confused until a line of students in uniform walked into the lobby and proceeded to sing a song with lyrics by Martí. At its conclusion, a small seven year old in the front said “We welcome you, our visitors from the United States”. We were given a tour of the murals of Martí’s stories (mainly Edad de Oro), and were shown each classroom. The classrooms seemed like those out of an old picture book. There were neat lines of desks with a central chalk board. At one point the director of education asked the class to get out their alphabet books. Each pupil produced theirs neatly on their desk. She asked them what grade they were in. ‘First!’ a few of them called out. “eh, eh, one at a time!” she demanded. A few hands shot up. ‘First grade’ the girl replied quietly when called on.
One classroom welcomed us with the production of paper American flags and a chorus of ‘bienvenido’, ‘welcome’. The MOST bizarre part, however, was when we reached the third floor. There was a giant assembly taking place with, I’d gander, grades 1-6 present. We were escorted to the front to wild applause. We then watched a short show that included dancing, singing, clown theatre, and a demonstration of English in a short skit. When the performance was over, and the next round of applause died down Professor McKelvey, our program director, said a few words of thanks.
We proceeded to the computer lab, escorted down the middle of the clapping and cheering students. The computer lab had seven or so computers, but they were older than the computer my family has at home that hardly functions. The director of education told us about the impressive numbers of graduates who go to University. The education system here is very well developed and one of the main goals of the revolution has been to eliminate illiteracy, which they effectively have done. At the end, representatives of the school thoughtfully gave us each a copy of Edad de Oro (so much for buying a copy at the book fair) and dedicated them to us with inscriptions. They thanked us for coming and said that they hoped that the people of the United States and the people of Cuba would continue to share with each other, to understand each other, and to form connections to make meaningful change in the current dogmas of our time. It was a quite meaningful moment.