Month: November 2016

Santa Clara BEFORE the world changed

After a day of touring Santa Clara, I found myself on Friday Nov 25 in the early evening sitting in the town’s massive square, Parque Vidal, writing down my thoughts on the city & its people in my stream of consciousness methodology. As I was rereading them for purposes of writing a blog post describing my observances since Fidel’s passing, I noted that while I’m sure they may seem unimportant at face value, they seemed very relevant & poignant to me given the changes that happened overnight. For purposes of remembering this historic time in years to come, I think I’ll present it here as things unfolded for me in Cuba.

 
A 9pm arrival in Santa Clara could’ve been much later due to a broken down bus were in not for a handy group of 4-5 Cubans huddled at the back of the bus fixing this smoking engine in just under an hour. If anyone can fix vehicles, it’s the Cubans right? After foiling a plan by a couple jineteros to scam me on the way to my casa, my casa owner directed me to a great restaurant. Well the food was good but the best thing about this place was the hired band they had playing. After sitting down w only 2 other tables filled, they played almost-acoustic versions of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah followed by Michael Jackson’s What About Us!!?!!!? Then they played a medley that featured about 10 songs from Stand By Me & Hey Jude to finally some fun Cuban music. They put their own twist on everything. It may sound silly, but I’ve been hearing the same traditional 3 Latin songs from every band I come across in restaurants & outside in tourist locales which is several times throughout the day bc music is so central to the way of life down here. They play them the same way & it’s just become less & less interesting. These guys have a fresh unique take on everything & just given the song choices, they had me so they wrote down where they play for the next 3 days bc depending on what else is going on, I may become a stalker. In Havana & Cienfuegos, I had a lot of success finding good music but it was generally late night spots known for music & frequented by a mix of locals & tourists. The music here has been maybe my favorite part of the trip so I really look forward to seeing this band again. 
Returning after dinner, the city center was empty but for pockets of young people looking to be heading out for the night. While it was dark, I could tell these young people looked different. They seemed to be hipsters. I hadn’t yet seen that pocket of people in Cuba. This morning while re-reading my travel guide on Santa Clara, I was reminded per LP that this is the “edgiest city in Cuba”. Roaming about town today confirmed it. Near my casa is the central Parque Vidal, the city’s massive city plaza, & it is hipster central. My oddly colored hair that captivates everyone else is no big deal here. Half of the park seems reserved for “normal” folk lazing about & gossiping. The other half features various pockets of different types of hipsters congregating in certain corners. The goths wearing black Megadeth & Iron Maiden vintage tees w dark eye liner, tattoos & crazy piercings huddle on one side drinking the local Bucanero beers at all hours (I must not be cool as I’ve been drinking Cristal). They must bond solely on a love of rock & black tees as I also saw Nirvana, Beatles & AC/DC tees mingling. The punk rock spiked mohawks, colored Ramones tees, studded jean vests & bandana wearing crowd gathers in another area. The guitar playing traditional hippies seem to have teamed up with the beanie wearing dreaded reggae fans. At any point in time, I almost expect a musical street battle a la West Side Story to break out. Yes, I watched for hours while reading & jotting down notes. I would’ve loved to get pics but they would never have captured my intrigue & would only serve to make me look like a narc. 
A couple hours later, I ended up w a few of these hipsters at Club Menjune, this hippy joint I walked past earlier & this dude grabbed me & invited me to this poetry reading. Why not? I hadn’t yet been to a poetry reading in Cuba. I found out the next night they were hosting “Cuba’s only official drag show”. Umm why wouldn’t I go?!?! Actually, the friend of my Havana casa owner, whom himself owns several Havana casas & does quite well, said as recently as 5 years ago, being LG was very frowned upon in Cuba, as of today it is generally accepted, & he joked that in 5 years, it would be compulsory. Trans, less so. Which is why I wasn’t at all surprised to find out the edgy, welcoming, liberal & open Santa Clara featured THE show in Cuba.
Overall thoughts on first 1.5 days in Santa Clara – I walked a lot today. Covered the main Che memorial, museum & mausoleum – biggest thing to see in SC. It dawned on me that while I’ve taken photos of tourist monuments, I haven’t really taken many photos of the city itself. Maybe bc it’s just not very picturesque. But I really wanted to come here to visit. My Havana & Trinidad casa owners told me to skip it or limit the visit to 1 night max. I refused to listen. While it may not be a picturesque city, there’s so much revolutionary history here, including the key battle in Fidel’s revolution, & I can be a big history nerd. I’m pleased & not that surprised to see the same city w such a massive revolutionary history feature citizens of such a diverse nature. I like the feel of this city. 




Counterfeit Cubans

Apparently there is an increasingly significant issue when it comes to counterfeit Cuban cigars. Factory workers steal them right from the lines. Official retail store workers swap out real cigars for fake ones & sell them to unsuspecting tourists along w a bullshit CUC$40 “handling fee” the workers pocket. All to sell on the black market. Due to its brand recognition & popularity among tourists, Cohiba is apparently the worst – making it difficult to even get consistently high quality cigars on the black market. Monte Cristos are next. While I’m no cigar aficionado, I wanted to pick some up for a friend so I asked my casa owner & the tapas resto owner where to go. They both use the same black market guy located in the hood in el centro Habana. Even at 10:30 in the morning, I don’t think I’d make the 20 minute walk on my own & the guy would certainly not trust me. So my casa owner gladly accompanied me to this shady dude’s real nice house in the ghetto where he put on a fairly formal presentation, displaying all of his goods on a velour cloth covering his kitchen table. My casa owner then walked me through all the steps to evaluate the various cigars & I settled upon Romeo y Julieta, the most popular brand amongst local wealthy Cubans who are in the know bc they aren’t quite as popular w tourists so quality is better. And boy did I get a deal bc the government retailers will sell them for CUC$13-15 per stick while I got them for CUC$8. So now I feel pretty confident buying a product that I’ll never personally use. But the experience was pretty amazing.  

To the beach… Varadero

A straightforward & uneventful 3-hour bus ride from Havana is Varadero… a 20km stretch of white sand beach that according to the travel guides, is supposedly Cuba’s most beautiful beach. Clearly the word is out amongst European & Canadian travelers, but given the superlatives used to describe it, I felt I had to see it. It did not disappoint. I enjoyed some much needed R&R after long Havana nights. 






Hemingway’s Havana

Prior to leaving Chicago & despite a slight feeling of betrayal, I loaded my kindle w Hemingway books that lay heavily worn in tatters, w circled & underlined passages & dogeared pages, crammed into the bookshelf my dad made me as I’ve read them many times over. Perhaps it’s a bit cliche, but it felt pretty good re-reading The Old Man and the Sea as I visited Cojimar, a tiny little fishing village that was home to Ernie’s fishing boat, Pilar, as well as his friend & the village on which the story is based. I have a long lasting love affair w his work which means I also felt his home on a hill outside Havana was a must-see (where Ava Gardner, on whom I recall my dad having a bit of a crush, scandalously swam naked in his pool) along w the Havana hotel in which he holed up writing For Whom the Bell Tolls and countless bars he frequented, including the one where he popularized the daiquiri &, in a record that still holds, he took down 13 doubles in one sitting. What an animal. I like his Havana. 

Cojimar

His fave Cojimar bar
Pilar
This is his office in the home he lived in for 20+ yrs until he moved back to the states in 1960, one year before he ended his life. It remains a snapshot in time as he left everything as is as a gift to the Cuban people. So now it’s a museum. You’re not allowed inside; however, the doors & windows are fully propped open so you can walk around the surrounding terrace & peek in to get a glimpse of his life.
Having a beer at the hotel bar where he wrote maybe most famous novel

Vinales day trip & hired-taxi-ride-of-a-lifetime (hopefully)

I opted to take a day trip from Havana to Vinales, a tiny town west of Havana surrounded by lush hilly limestone terrain offering great hiking, an incredible cave system & the world’s best tobacco growing. The rest of my trip was taking me east but I was convinced I needed to see the region after flying over it prior to landing in Havana… the terrain looked incredibly different than what I ever imagined Cuba to look like (& much different than Havana). 
My casa owner arranged for one of his trusted regular personal drivers to take me to Vinales. Eduardo knows the area very well & has taken the trip weekly w other casa guests. Eduardo arrived at 8 & just to make sure we’re on the same page, we sat w the owner to map out an itinerary prior to leaving as Eduardo speaks zero English. He seemed friendly & funny & when I left, I felt very comfortable & excited about the day. 
The first snafu happened 5 minutes after leaving when Eduardo indicated he forgot his wallet at home so we first had to go to outer Havana to pick it up. Fine, I forget things all the time. A half hour later, we finally began our journey. We chitchat about our lives & Havana & things are going great. He teaches me words in Spanish & I teach him words in English. The beginning of the route was small city streets & Eduardo seemed to be a very capable driver. About an hour into the 2.5hr trip, we hit the autopista, a 6-lane highway w not much traffic. Thankfully not much traffic. Because it was only then after 15 minutes or so that I started noticing Eduardo weaving across our 3 lanes of traffic. There were no other cars around & the roads were in the worst shape I’d ever seen, riddled w major potholes, so I thought perhaps he was trying to avoid them. And then he hit a rather large pothole dead-on that rattled his old 1970s car. And another one. WTF? I couldn’t see his eyes bc they were hidden behind huge sunglasses. I asked him if he was ok, perhaps a bit tired? Oh he’s ok but yes, perhaps a bit tired bc he was out w friends until 3:30am & then had to get up at 7. Uh oh. I suggested we continue talking bc that seemed to keep him awake before. He couldn’t hold a conversation. I asked him to play music so we seat-danced for a couple minutes before he tired of that. Immediately thereafter, a large tour bus approached us from the left rear. Eduardo didn’t see him coming & was in fact weaving in front of him so I gently suggested he move to the right. Then another car approached from the right, honking madly for him to get out of the way. He didn’t hear him until I said so. Three strikes & you’re out & during one of his next weaves, he picked up speed & I thought was headed straight off the road. So I really yelled at him. It’s pretty amazing how quickly I picked up Spanish swear words & proficiently & appropriately used them here. I told him he was a drunk & falling asleep, he was endangering both of our lives, he needs sleep & a lot of coffee. After my tirade, he was quiet & then sheepishly admitted I was right and stunningly, asked if I would be willing to drive. At this point, we were 1.5 hours into the trip & I didn’t trust him to drive us back to Havana so for fear of my life & a desire to still see Vinales, I agreed, still somewhat dumbfounded. We pulled over, switched seats, I got comfortable w some of the car’s “uniqueness”, & we were off. I asked him what signs I should follow… “Pinar del Rio”, which I knew from my travel book, & w that we were off, w Eduardo passed out beside me, unmoving. One must adapt when traveling right? We seemed better. 
Until 30 minutes later when la policia pulled us over. I was certainly not speeding so I think it was a random thing. Thankfully I, for some unknown reason, brought w me my passport & US drivers license. As I was frantically trying to wake Eduardo from his slumber, I was handing my documents over to the cop. Eduardo was barely awake at this point & despite the fact he just stopped to pick up his wallet, he was unable to locate his documents. On a whim, I explained to the cop w a laugh & a gesture, in an attempt to continue the trip, that the lush in the passenger seat was my stupid, drunk boyfriend. Those seconds awaiting his response were torturous as I considered the possibility I’d end up in a Cuban prison, but thankfully he laughed too, returned my documents & waved us on our way. I knew I saved Eduardo’s ass but I didn’t know to what extent until later as apparently it’s illegal for tourists to drive locals’ cars (designated by certain license plates) so the cop could very well have immediately impounded the car & thrown Eduardo in jail w massive fines (I’m told no repercussions for me, although I’d be stuck in the middle of nowhere w no way to return to Havana). You’re welcome, Eduardo. 
I kept following signs for Pinar del Rio. And after an hour more of driving, kept trying to wake Eduardo. I felt as if we were heading in the right direction so no need to panic. Then he awoke, after 1.5 hrs of my driving, exclaiming we should’ve exited an hour ago… right around the time the police pulled us over. Great. I exit & follow his instructions to take a now not-so-direct route to Vinales. Oh well. We made it to stop one & he seemed markedly better.. no longer drunk but certainly tired. At my orders, while I toured & hiked the site, he was to down significant amounts of coffee. 
That’s how our day continued. He rebounded quite well & took back the driving, which was great bc that’s what I was fucking paying him to do. I refused to be angry at him as I didn’t want that negative energy ruining my day so we returned to our fun banter. When sober & awake, he actually did a really great job as a tour guide, explaining details & history. We toured the lovely Vinales until about 5pm, a bit later than normal perhaps, given our trip there took an extra hour or so. 
And then we returned to Havana. All was going swimmingly until an hour into the trip. He asked me if I would drive again. I yelled at him as this time, he wasn’t drunk, he was just tired & incompetent. I hired him to drive & he needed to drive so I refused. I started watching him closely & found that since he wasn’t now wearing his sunglasses, he couldn’t hide the fact that his eyes were closing again. Perfect. 15 minutes passed & it was now dusk & he asked again if I would drive. To make it back alive, I once again agreed while that mf slept next to me. The closer we got to Havana, the more traffic appeared & the darker it became, while his old car’s lights on unfamiliar roads w no help whatsoever from Eduardo made for a more difficult drive than desired. Again, Eduardo had trouble waking up. The signs entering Havana were pretty clear so while waking him, I still felt ok driving. And then the signs immediately became unclear & all of a sudden, there were 5 police cars in the center of the road forcing me to decide right or left. I decided left & apparently decided wrong. My 3 lanes disappeared almost immediately & turned into a tiny 1-lane road w no lights & I came to a screeching halt alongside in the tumble weeds, all the while screaming at Eduardo. That finally awoke him, laughing & saying “oh that’s ok angela, we are in XXX in Havana & you just need to go right”. I lost it. Screamed I’m not fucking driving anymore. Got out of the driver’s side & slammed the door. He chuckled, agreed & dropped me at my casa in 15 minutes. 
Somehow throughout this entire ordeal, Eduardo came to believe we were truly friends & I was just helping him out as a friend would do in similar circumstances. What he seemed to forget was that I was paying him to provide a service that he most certainly didn’t provide. So he truly seemed genuinely shocked when I stiffed him on his payment, even after explaining why. The casa owner apologized endlessly, fired him as his regular driver & covered the cost of his fuel & time for the trip. Since I made it back alive, I reflected that I did actually enjoy Vinales & the trip story was in fact a pretty great one. One that I hope to never repeat. 




La Habana loca

Oh Havana. How quickly you inspire & captivate. I stayed for 6 days & didn’t want to leave. I could spend a month here alone. Or more. It’s stunning in a unique, broken down dilapidated sort of way. I aimlessly wandered the city, trying to lose myself as one often does in Venice. There is clearly a lot of investment happening in Havana as construction & rehabs pop up around every corner; though it’s since slowed as my casa owner confirmed the Trump election has resulted in a hold up of foreign funding. Sad but hopefully with time, things will settle & they’ll work it out. 
Casa = casa particular or a homestay. Essentially a large home w private rooms w baths to rent. This lodging was recommended by the travel guides as well as by word of mouth as many are nicer than the worn, tired hotels, certainly cheaper & also offer great access to local Cubans & their culture (& the money also goes to support local Cubans rather than government owned hotels which is an added bonus). My casa was fabulous – right in the heart of Habana Vieja complete w 20-ft ceilings & a balcony overlooking the street chaos below – and my casa owner was so helpful as well as enlightening on Cuban culture. He arranged for my airport pickup in a classic 1955 blue American car so he started off on a high note. 
As far as my Spanish goes, I was forced to use it a lot. First off w my airport driver – not a lick of English spoken. Most folks don’t speak it. Tourist sights have descriptions in Spanish only. Pretty refreshing. And unlike SE Asia, I actually have a clue as to what’s going on around me. I intended to take a week long Spanish course to “refresh” since freshman year in college but I was soooo busy prior to my trip, I couldn’t find time (yes I’m still enjoying my mid-life retirement but before you roll your eyes, the World Series winning Cubs’ playoff run really did keep me pretty busy). I did buy a pocket phrase book w a helpful dictionary & briefly reviewed it during my layover in Mexico City. After day 1, I realized how much better (i.e. easier) my life would be with improved conversational Spanish as I noted several instances after which I cursed myself as I couldn’t for the life of me remember how to say something. So night 1, I fell asleep quizzing myself. The nerd in me lives. 
Prior to the trip & in fact from several travelers I met in SE Asia, I heard there were still issues finding good food in Cuba as only since 2011 have private restaurants been allowed to sit more than 12 people (now max is 50) & employ non-family members in addition to the government food rations still required. This notion I can now dispute as I found some great tiny spots w amazing food & drinks including a trendy new tapas joint serving the best mojitos I’ve ever enjoyed (& of course pretty dope food too) & a tiny obscure higher-end resto whose suckling pig dish blew my mind. 
But the best part of Havana was the people & their stories, eerily often connected back to some crazy cool history from the casa owner’s friend whose driver’s dad was Fidel’s personal chauffeur to the chef of the high-end resto, whose talents I obsessed over through the open kitchen for 2 hours, & who also previously served Fidel as his personal chef. And everyone’s just so friendly, especially considering my poor Spanish skills. My go-to phrase has been “mas despacio, por favor” & they smile, slowing down to use simpler language, & politely refrain from laughing as I stumble through my reply. They don’t seem to be annoyed one bit as they happily join me for conversations about both our lives. When coming out of the tapas joint after a late lunch & a couple killer passion fruit mojitos the day after the suckling pig dinner, I ran into the suckling pig chef as he was heading to work, we laughed as he said how much he loved the food & drinks there, said I had great taste in restos & walked me to my casa, offering to squeeze me into his resto later that night. If only. I had previously promised I’d attend a pig roast hosted by my casa owner & friend so I reluctantly turned down his invitation as I knew his food would be far superior. But the pig roast turned out to be fun & afterwards, we went to see a reggae-ton show which was pretty entertaining. 
I can’t wait to bring friends back to Havana. 










I rented a 1948 red Chevrolet driven by Juan Carlos for a half day tour of Havana




El Malecon

https://youtu.be/x0RC2h-EQNk
El Malecon in the convertible passing El Hotel Nacional, an old hangout of US gangsters before the embargo back when Cuba was the American playground of the rich & famous. I had a mojito in the outside terrace at sunset overlooking el Malecon. 

https://youtu.be/YlGYu2QiUCU
Walking along el Malecon on a Saturday morning, I stumbled upon a little league baseball game. While taking pix & a video, a couple balls were missed by the catcher & I served to be such an adequate backup catcher, that the coaches asked if I officially wanted the role, so I gleefully accepted for a couple innings. It surely helped that I was wearing my Cubs baseball cap. 

https://youtu.be/95fTQYRtb8Y

Cuba is my savior

I left for Cuba the day following the disastrous US Presidential election & I admit, I was pretty devastated & really looking forward to getting off the grid, leaving behind our 24-hour news cycle, & ignoring the mortifying reality of US politics & the short-sighted decision making of our population. Havana was just what I needed. There’s no 3G/4G service so my US cell carrier is worthless. There’s a state-run Cuba-wide wifi network where you buy hour-long access cards & hop on wifi hotspots throughout the city/country (you know there’s a wifi hotspot in Havana when you see a bunch of Cubans huddled together on phones at a street corner). But that service is terribly unreliable, spotty & inconvenient. So I got my wish… I really am off the grid. I’m still enjoying writing blog posts documenting some ridiculous stories & taking a shitload of photos, so I’ll just post them upon my return. Hasta luego.