Before too much time passes and life gets in the way of my
best intentions, I want to write down my thoughts, memories and first if but
fleeting (often gathered from a bus window), impressions of Cuba. My title reflects the warm and generous souls
of Cuban people, who often address you, even when a perfect stranger, as ‘mi
amor.’
From February 6 – 14,
I spent a week (much too little time!) visiting the ‘mythical’ island of Cuba I
had imagined since my childhood. Growing
up in the 1960s in the USA, I first learned of Cuba through the infamous
missile crisis of October 1962, when we were supposedly on the brink of a
nuclear showdown with our arch enemy the Soviet Union. Forever after, Cuba was ‘tierra prohibida’
for American citizens, which only increased its attraction and mystique.
Now I was finally on my way to visit Cuba in 2016, more than
50 years later. It seems almost like a
time warp when you consider that Cuba is essentially still under the same
leadership all these years (a lifetime!) later.
Traveling around the island, the time warp is a living breathing reality
in many ways, but I will write more about that later.
We flew via Madrid on Cubana Airlines to Jose Martí
International Airport in La Habana. I
would later note during the many hours I spent in the airport´s Terminal 3 that
Canada´s former Prime Minister Jean Chrétien assisted in its opening in 1998
with Fidel Castro. During the week, we
encountered many Canadian tourists in Cuba who have enjoyed uninterrupted and
open travel to the island over the decades. The flight with Cubana was
nostalgic and evoked a flavor of the past…..safe, secure, and no-nonsense
service. Bring reading material and get
to know your fellow passengers – there are no films, music or even electronic
maps detailing the flight path.
Waiting for us in the arrivals area was a diminutive and
lively local guide named Antonia, dressed in bright yellow. The Bulgarian tourist group we were traveling
with was soon referring to her as the ‘jultata dama’ (the yellow lady).
From the moment we
entered our hotel in the quiet and more affluent (relatively speaking) suburb
of Miramar, Cuban rhythms welcomed us and became a constant soundtrack during
the week on every street corner. A band
was playing in the hotel lobby, and Sophia and I collapsed in rattan chairs
next to the bar for our first serenade.
Miramar was in the 1950s before the revolution where many of Havana’s
wealthy resided in impressive mansions that are now used as embassies. It is eerily quiet at night, and as I was to
discover in much of Cuba, nearly devoid of traffic at any given time.
Our first full day dawned cloudy and grey…weather-wise a bit
disappointing when you have traveled all the way from the grey skies of Belgium
to the Caribbean…but never mind! We
traveled west as a group by bus towards Pinar del Río through tobacco country
where Cuba’s world-renowned cigars are produced. Tobacco was once more widely grown on the
island, but when the Spaniards discovered the wealth to be amassed from ‘white
gold’ (aka sugar cane), forests of mahogany and ceiba were destroyed to
cultivate this valuable crop on plantations worked by imported African slaves.
We have to remember that before the discovery of the Americas in the late 15
th
century, sugar was a rare and precious commodity imported from the Far East and
available only to the rich.
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| mural in Old Havana depicitng 19th century Cuban upperclass...the plantation owners |
Along the route to Pinar del Río, rain fell as the sun shone, inevitably producing a complete rainbow that followed us as we traveled. I tried photographing it with minor success….such natural wonders always appear so much grander and breathtaking in reality. I also tried photographing the many modes of transport I saw from the bus window – tractors, motorbikes, Russian Ladas, 1950s Chevrolets and Buicks, 1960s VW bugs, horse-drawn wagons and carriages, military trucks serving as buses….Getting around in Cuba is problematic. People can wait endlessly at bus stops, revert to hitchhiking, or cram into overcrowded trucks converted into buses. Trains are very old and unreliable, and I noted that the central train station in Havana was completely shut down for renovation. Antonia told me that Cuba will get new trains from China soon. In some places, steam engines are still in use!
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| This girl band was playing at a roadside stop |
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Los mogotes- flat-topped mountains in western Cuba
A rather curious tourist attraction near the western town of Viñales is the “Mural de la Prehistoria”that Castro commissioned in the 1960s. On the face of a sheer cliff cutting through one of the region’s flat-topped mountains, a giant, brightly colored mural depicts the development of man from prehistory to the present, evolving from mollusks to eventually become a socialist mammal. Apparently, the artist who designed it was a student of the Mexican muralist, Diego Rivera, but he directed local workers to paint the cliff while they dangled over its edge from swaying ropes.
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At every stop, locals were ready to serve up piña coladas prepared with freshly pressed sugar cane juice, laced with Cuban rum. Our day tour also included a visit to a cave by boat. This was not very impressive, and I would have preferred to have time to walk around Viñales with its neat rows of pastel one-story houses, each with a covered porch and a matching set of rocking chairs. We had been served lunch at an open-air restaurant near the cave, but I wistfully glimpsed more intriguing possibilities in the town as we passed through on our way back to Havana. I had read that tastier meals can be found in paladares, or small, family-owned and operated restaurants.
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a slavery reenactment
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Pinar de Río
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Back at our hotel, we had about one hour to rest up and
change into more elegant attire before an evening scheduled at the Tropicana
Club in Havana, still putting on nightly cabaret shows on an open-air stage. On the grounds inside the gates, a colorfully
illuminated fountain features nude females cavorting in the splashing water.
Cars and tour buses pull up and unload passengers for the pre-dinner show in an
art deco dining area. As we were ushered
through the lobby after dinner towards the interior garden amphitheater, a
plumed showgirl in glittering sequins handed out cigars to all the
gentlemen….nothing for the ladies!
We sat at long tables, and were given a bottle of rum while
orders were taken for cola or other mixing drinks. The evening was cool, so my lightweight down
parka was essential. House lights went
down, stage lights went on, and a dazzling spectacle lasting one hour and forty-five
minutes began on two stages, with plenty of gaudy, raucous colors, feathers,
swirling chiffon, sequins, and over-the-top
headdresses including full-size illuminated chandeliers at one point….Neon
lights above the stage proclaimed proudly that these exuberant displays of
rhythm and dance have been going on continuously since 1939. The Tropicana is Cuba’s most famous
nightclub, and back in the 1940s and ‘50s stars such as Carmen Miranda and Nat
King Cole performed for elegantly dressed audiences who were also there to
gamble. The casino and debauchery of the
corrupt and decadent days of Batista are long gone, but the show must and does
go on every night, weather permitting.
Sophia and I especially enjoyed a dance performance which incorporated a
narrative of Cuba’s plantation past, with references to the contributions of African
slaves to the music and dance traditions of the island.
The following day was a particularly tough one for
Sophia. She woke in the night with
terrible pain from tonsillitis, and was unable to swallow even teaspoons of
water. We had to take her to a nearby
international clinic where she got excellent medical care, and was put on a
treatment of two daily antibiotic injections for three days, and the
recommendation to gargle frequently with a dilution of strong vinegar to
relieve the intense pain in her throat. She found the staff particularly kind and very
professional. Universal healthcare is
one of the revolution’s great achievements in Cuba. When half of the nation’s
doctors fled after the 1959 revolution, Castro decided to invest in training
thousands of new doctors, and even established a Family Doctor Program in the
1980s whereby one doctor is responsible for the care of 120 families. The result of this investment of time and
resources in preventive healthcare has brought the infant mortality rate to
only 5 per 1000 live births (lower than that of the U.S. and the U.K.), annual
HIV testing that has prevented any babies from being born HIV-positive since
1998. Cuba also has a vaccination program which has protected 95% of the
population against 12 diseases, all achieved with one of the lowest per capita
healthcare spending rates in the world.
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| Camilo Cienfuegos, hero of the 1959 Revolution |
Ernesto 'Che' Guevara Plaza de la Revolución
Our first glimpse of old Havana revealed a vibrant Spanish colonial city in a state of disrepair, with some areas beautifully restored to former glory, while others slowly crumble while awaiting funding.Pastel paint shades and intricate iron grille work are the hallmarks of Cuban architecture, along with colonnades and inner garden courtyards. Large tree-lined squares such as the Plaza de Armas are typical gathering places where citizens and tourists alike can relax on benches, talk, read the newspaper, or browse through bookstalls offering biographies of Ernesto ‘Che’ Guevarra, Fidel and Raul Castro, or brief histories of Cuba.
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La Plaza de Armas
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The Plaza de la Catedral is particularly beautiful with its
baroque style 18
th century cathedral. Antonia described for me the
gaiety of this square on New Year´s Eve when it is converted into a lavish
outdoor candlelit dinner party, primarily for foreign visitors, as the cost is
beyond the means of most Cubans. Consider
that the current average monthly wage in Cuba is 24.30 US dollars, and many of
those well-trained doctors opt to work in the tourist industry where they can
make a better living. I should add,
however, that though these wages are low by American or European standards,
Cubans have heavily subsidized housing, electricity and water, while healthcare and education are free. Cuba
has two official currencies: one for Cubans, called pesos; a second known as
CUCs or convertible pesos used by foreigners.
One CUC is worth 24 Cuban pesos; thus, you can understand the
desirability for Cubans of having contact with foreign visitors and charging
for goods and services in the convertible currency.
Our group was once again privileged to have lunch reserved
at the rooftop restaurant of the Ambos Mundos Hotel, famous as the hotel where
Hemingway lived for a time, and wrote the novel
For Whom the Bell Tolls. The
view over the nearby rooftops, canal and fortress was spectacular, and after
lunch including a mojito cocktail, we were given a chance to view Hemingway’s
room where his 1954 Nobel Prize for
The
Old Man and the Sea is displayed on the wall.
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| homage to Hemingway in the Hotel Ambos Mundos |
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| Fidel Castro and Ernest Hemingway |
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| Nobel Prize for "The Old Man and the Sea" |
view from the rooftop restaurant
Cubans appear patient....used to waiting
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| They have time to sit and chat...in person |
I will get back to Hemingway in a moment, but am reminded of
an interesting anecdote I learned about mojitos, which happens to be one of my
favorite cocktails, especially in summer. The mojito is a Cuban original, and
is said to have had medicinal origins.
Natives offered a mixture of lime juice, sugarcane juice and hierbabuena
to ailing Spanish sailors who were probably suffering from disease and vitamin
deficiencies after their long transatlantic voyage. These early mojitos apparently did the trick,
and the drink has been a staple ever since.
I forgot to mention that we were driven in the morning to
visit Hemingway’s home, Finca Vigía, 12 km from the center of Havana in a
suburb known as San Francisco de Paula. It was here that Hemingway lived with
his third wife, journalist Martha Gellhorn, and died in 1961. The house and gardens became the property of
the state, and were eventually restored and
turned into a museum. If you
haven’t seen it, I recommend the 2012 film “Hemingway and Gellhorn” starring
Nicole Kidman. The film quite
successfully captures the writer’s bravado in joining the International Brigade
to fight with the Republicans in the Spanish Civil War, and depicts his
colorful, erratic relationships against the backdrop of the 1930s through
1950s.
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| Hemingway loved Cuba |
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| The house is closed to the public, but you can walk all around it |
an outbuilding on the grounds
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| the tools of Hemingway's trade.....his typewriter |
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| and his fishing boat, Pilar |
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| Hemingway loved to hunt game...trophy heads adorn the walls of the house |
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| with journalist Martha Gelhorn, his 3rd wife |
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| his studio in an adjacent tower |
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the nearby coffee roasting plant....the smell was acrid and alluring
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| the now empty swimming pool where Ava Gardner famously swam nude |
The view from the terrace of Finca Vigía looking towards
Havana is lush and dotted with palms, while near the shaded pool, puffs of
smoke drift from a nearby factory with the acrid smell of roasting coffee
beans. Visitors cannot enter the house,
but it is airy and open, allowing you to circle around to peer in at every
doorway and window at shelves crammed with yellowed books, cool tile floors,
and exotic, horned animal heads mounted on white walls.
view from Hemingway's terrace looking towards Havana
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| grinding sugarcane to make piña coladas |
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| at the Hemingway house |
While in Havana, we decided to opt for the touristy but fun
option of taking a ride through the city in a vintage car. Adjacent to the shady Parque Central, we
could choose from an array in assorted colors and styles. We chose a baby blue
convertible (don’t ask me what the make and model was!), and were soon on our
way to visit the Hotel Nacional, built in the 1920s and modeled on the Breakers
Hotel in Palm Beach, Florida.
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| Parque Central |
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| Sloppy Joe's...a famous Havana bar |
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the Malecón
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| the entrance to Chinatown, now diminished...35,000 Chinese were brought in the late 1840s to work as servants |
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| the famous Hotel Nacional |
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| Museo de la Revolución |
street corner near our hotel in the Havana suburb Miramar
En route, though our
driver seemed careful and professional, we had a minor accident. In Cuba, the variety and ingenuity of
transport is mind-boggling – bicycles, rickshaws, coco-taxis (little bug-like,
three-wheeled vehicles with room for a driver and two passengers-barely!),
motorcycles with sidecars, horse-drawn
carts, converted military and semi-trucks used as buses – anything with
wheels! As we were approaching a stoplight,
a man on a bicycle with a cart attached collided with the right side of our
shiny 1950s vehicle. Our driver was
visibly upset, but remained in control. He immediately stopped, and jumped out
to detain the cyclist and inspect the damage.
Although clearly annoyed by the incident and the trouble and
inconvenience which would ensue, the Cuban driver began a very civil exchange
with the unfortunate cyclist.
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| El Comandante 'Che' Ernesto Guevara |
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| I was surprised to see that the EU is helping to fund recycling in Cuba! |
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the driver of the recycling truck insisted that I should take his photo...
primary school in Old Havana
taking advantage of an available wifi hotspot
schoolgirls in Havana wearing the national uniform
heated discussion in the Parque Central
Parque Central
Plaza Vieja
La Plaza de San Francisco
meeting Chopin
tile mural in homage to the family
another Hemingway haunt and 'birthplace' of the daquiri
interior of La Floridita
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As we were blocking traffic, the driver pulled the vehicle
over to the side of the street, and we got out to make our own inspection, and
wait while the police arrived. In the
meantime, our driver called for a replacement, and within 5 minutes we were on our
way again, this time (to my horror!) in a pink and white convertible. As we pulled away, our previous driver
continued in deep, but peaceful discussion.
I asked our new driver how this incident was likely to be resolved. He explained that the the driver and cyclist
would need to come to an agreement about the cost of the repair to the car, and
all would be settled between them, and indicated in the police report. Since the cost of the repair probably
exceeded the financial means of the poor cyclist, he would have to borrow the
needed cash, or remain indebted to the driver until he could pay off the sum in
regular monthly payments. I felt a tinge of guilt that all this had resulted
from our simple tourist pleasure ride.
That evening, Alex and I joined the group for a dinner
scheduled at the well-known restaurant La Bodeguita del Medio, on calle
Empedrado. This unsophisticated bar and
restaurant has become a landmark due to its link to talented customers such as
the Cuban writers Alejo Carpentier and Nicolás Guillén who frequented it, as
well as Hemingway, and more recently Sean Penn, whose photo taken while
visiting hung on the wall near our table.
Penn was very involved in relief work after neighboring Haiti suffered
disastrous earthquake and hurricane damage, and I suspect his visit to Cuba
dates from that period. The walls of La
Bodeguita are covered in graffiti messages from customers, and brimming with
framed photos of famous visitors. We
were fortunate to spend the evening with our local guide Antonia´s young son,
Raymond, 24. Raymond (not his real name)
gave us a young professional´s perspective on life in Cuba, and readily
answered the many questions I had about the realities of day-to-day life. He
was eager to practice his English with us, and pleased to eat in La Bodeguita
which is beyond the means of most Cubans.
the group Puerto Príncipe
our diminutive local guide, Antonia with her son
Raymond spoke very
candidly about his frustration working in IT for the university from which he
graduated. Officially, he is allowed 200
megabytes per month of internet service.
That didn’t mean much to me, until Alex explained that 200 MB would be
enough to download about 20% of an online movie. (Now I have learned that there are 1024 MB in
a GB, and it takes approximately 1 -1.5 GB to download a 90 minute movie.) For
a young entrepreneurial IT specialist, this has got to be a major source of
frustration! Cuba remains one of the
most isolated nations in the world where internet connection is concerned. Broadband internet is limited and often
unreliable, while also being very costly, even from a foreigner’s perspective,
costing anywhere from 5 to 15 CUCs per hour in hotel lobbies. Internet in private residences in Cuba is not
permitted. Recently, however, the Cuban
government is beginning to open up public wifi hotspots, with 65 opened in
2015, and another 80 announced for 2016.
This is really a break-through for Cubans eager to connect with
relatives abroad and with the rest of the world in general.
Raymond supplements his income by selling internet time
(tapping illegally into the system) to black market customers who contact him
via word of mouth. During our dinner
conversation, he apologized a couple of times when ‘customers’ called him on
his mobile phone to arrange for service.
Raymond says he is well aware that what he is doing is illegal and
therefore risky, but it is a risk he deems worth taking for the extra money he
can earn. He hopes to be able to leave
Cuba and work in the U.S. or perhaps Panama in the future. A former girlfriend had traveled to Uruguay,
and had managed to get a work permit allowing her to stay in the country for at
least 3 years. With money earned abroad, Cubans can hope to return and afford a
car or house…real luxuries in a nation where many young couples must live with
their parents, and few can afford to buy a car in a tightly controlled market where a new vehicle costs nearly $200,000.
The next morning, we were scheduled to leave by tour bus for
the northern coastal resort of Varadero. During the night, Alex awoke with
severe cramps and stomach pain, and was suffering from an acute
gastroenteritis. Miserable as he was, we
had to get him on the bus by 10:00 am, and it was a difficult two-hour drive
east from Havana. On our way east, we passed over the Puente
Bacunayagua which connects the provinces of Havana and Matanzas. The view from the pit stop we made just after
crossing the Bacunayagua River is impressive, and so are the piña coladas which
are served in hollowed out pineapples!
Sophia on the beach at Varadero
The resort at Varadero was comfortable, generically so, and
filled with foreign guests, especially Canadians. The beach was lovely, but if I were to travel
all the way to Cuba just for this, it would be disappointingly void of
inspiration. That afternoon, Sophia and
I took a walk along the beach to put our toes in the water and absorb the
energy that sea and sky always provide in abundance. We tried lying on some lounge chairs to read,
but found the sea breeze and waning sunlight a bit too cool. We had put on our bathing suits, but we were
also wearing cover-ups and jackets!
By the next morning, I was afflicted with the same illness
as Alex, and spent my time at Varadero in bed.
By evening, I ventured to the buffet restaurant to eat rice and drink
herbal tea. Unfortunately, there would
be no more mojitos or piña coladas for me for the duration of the trip…
The following morning, now Friday, we headed south for the
city of Cienfuegos. Along our route, I
photographed small towns, apartment buildings, clinics, sugarcane fields, rice
paddies, and anything else of interest that caught my eye. The photos were not always successful since I
had to snap them from a moving bus, but I was determined to absorb as much as I
could about Cuba, even while on the move.
gasolinera along our route to Cienfuegos
sugarcane fields....Cuba's 'white gold'
rice paddies
cattle crossing on the nearly empty highway
a semi truck converted into a bus...Cuban ingenuity!
In rural areas of Cuba, I observed numerous billboards with
propagandistic images and slogans. I
found these fascinating. One pictured
Fidel Castro and Hugo Chávez with the slogan: ‘Nuestro mejor amigo’ (Our best
friend). The late Venezuelan president
was a strong ally of Castro’s, and approved the export of Venezuelan oil at
fixed rates to help Cuba through its energy crisis, while Cuba sent 30,000
healthcare workers to Venezuela. Sophia
spotted a billboard decrying the U.S. embargo with the image of a giant hammer
smashing a brick wall.
Hugo Chávez of Venezuela was a close ally
a once unknown sight....a house for sale....
(United and productive, defending the Revolution)
(For the Revolution and Socialism---Long live the workers!)
(Production...Efficiency...Quality)
(No one will give up! We swear it!)
(Cienfuegos --this is a revolutionary town)
We arrived in Cienfuegos
at midday to stroll along the pedestrian shopping street bustling with people. This city, known as “la perla del sur” is a
well-preserved colonial city of pastel-colored neoclassical architecture,
originally founded by a Frenchman from New Orleans. This region was heavily invested in by the
Russians after the revolution to become a major producer of sugar. Much of this production has slowed, but the
port of Cienfuegos still oversees approximately 30% of Cuba’s sugar
exports. The wealthy sugarcane magnates
of the 19
th century wanted an elegant and cultural provincial city,
with broad tree-lined boulevards, and a theatre for performances by Cuba’s own
talents such as the renowned dancer and choreographer Alicia Alonso, and the
singer and actress Rita Montaner.
a busy work day in Cienfuegos....'the Pearl of the South'
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| Cuban singer and actress, Rita Montaner; Cuban dancer and choreographer, Alicia Alonso |
public phone booths still in use here
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| la plaza central de Cienfuegos |
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| a retro luxury hotel in central Cienfuegos |
school boys in the national uniform heading home
rickshaws are common all over Cuba
Another famous Cuban born in the province of Cienfuegos and immortalized
by a bronze statue in this city is the singer Benny Moré. The great-great grandson of a Congolese
slave, he was the eldest of eighteen children, and made his way to a musical career
after selling damaged fruits on the streets of Havana, and working in the
sugarcane fields. He had an international
career, and even performed at the Oscars ceremony in 1957. While many of Cuba’s best musicians decided
to leave after the 1959 revolution to pursue their careers abroad, Moré
remained faithful to Cuba, saying he preferred to stay among ‘mi gente” (my people).
Antonia, our local guide, sang a few bars from the song that
immortalized Cienfuegos in the hearts and minds of Cubans
everywhere…”Cienfuegos es la ciudad que más me gusta a mí…”
bronze statue of singer Benny Moré
Before continuing on to
Trinidad, we stopped for lunch at the Palacio del Valle, a mansion built in the
Moorish style which now serves as a restaurant. The rooftop terrace is especially lovely with
views over Cienfuegos Bay.
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| Cienfuegos Bay |
14 febrero...It was Valentine´s Day!
We traveled another 82 km southeast to arrive
at the charming colonial city of Trinidad with cobblestoned streets. A UNESCO world heritage site since 1988,
Trinidad was founded by the Spanish in 1514 and by the 17th century
was the center of a thriving slave trade that provided labor for the
surrounding sugar plantations. We had
our first impressions of Trinidad by night, where the sounds of son, rumba and
salsa filled the soft night air, emanating from a permanent outdoor stage up a
flight of stone steps known as La Casa
de la Música, located near the central square.
A crowd had already gathered under the stars, and Sophia and I joined
them, squeezing our way to a spot on the steps where deft waiters immediately
swooped in to take our order. We sat and
listened and watched as couples from the audience spontaneously jumped up from
their seats to swirl and twirl to the salsa rhythms.
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| Casa de la Música in Trinidad |
After an hour, we got up
to continue our moonlit tour, peering in at open windows to see locals watching
television, or having dinner. Wandering
through the small streets around the Plaza Mayor, we found ourselves in front
of the entrance to an elementary school where the custodian welcomed us to enter. He asked us for a small donation, but was
happy to answer my questions about the school schedule, and let me photograph
the classroom and patio where images of Che Guevarra were prominently displayed
on the walls. The school seemed dark and
dingy at night, but perhaps this is advantageous on a hot and humid school day.
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| Trinidad by night |
primary school in Trinidad
Che Guevara's portrait on the wall
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in the school's patio de recreo...revolutionary heroes Che Guevara and Camilo Cienfuegos
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The next day was the last
for Alex, Sophia and me, and we had the morning to explore Trinidad by day
before taking a 4.5 hour taxi ride to the airport for our return via
Paris. The best weather of our trip was
during these last two days when the temperature finally reached 25
degrees. We paid a visit with the group
to the Museo Municipal de Historia, located in a beautiful colonial mansion with
walls washed a buttery yellow. Since the
18th century, locals in Trinidad have preferred yellow to avoid the
harsh glare produced by light reflecting off whitewashed walls. I especially liked the central colonnaded
courtyard, and looked with interest mixed with horror at a display on slavery
with a leather bullwhip and iron manacles, along with a drawing of an escaped
slave being chased by a dog. Slavery was
an integral and essential part of the Cuban economy, and was not abolished
until 1886.
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Museo Municipal de Historia, Trinidad
reminders of slavery |
winners of local children's art competition
detail of a shawl in the museum
street scenes.....Trinidad
Trinidad
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| the 'quincianera' (when a girl turns 15) is an important celebration |
Cubana Airlines had
insisted that we should be at the airport three hours before our departure, so
we planned our long distance taxi ride to get us to the airport by 6:00
pm. Our driver made excellent time,
thanks in part to the almost non-existent traffic on the main highway through
the center of the island. After dropping
us off, the driver headed back to Trinidad, and we wheeled our suitcases inside
only to discover that our flight departure had been postponed from 9:20 pm to
3:15 am the following morning!
the highway was literally empty!
We were unable to get
much information initially, despite my inquiries at the Cubana desk where we
were told to wait for the manager who would appear in half an hour. We stood in a line in front of the designated
check-in desk for nearly two hours with an array of frustrated and disgruntled
passengers before the manager appeared.
She informed us that our flight had been delayed in departing from
Madrid, and we would have to wait for its arrival in the middle of the night,
and then be patient while it was cleaned, refueled and checked over before its
return to Europe. She got clearance to
allow us to check in earlier and pass through security to the terminal.
This proved to be not terribly advantageous
for our 10-hour wait, as there was little to do once in the small terminal, and
it was terribly cold. The only shops
sold the usual rum and cigars, as well as over-priced versions of the same
tourist souvenirs we had seen everywhere.
We all bundled in every bit of available clothing, and attempted to
sleep on hard benches. Meanwhile,
flights of inbound tourists continued to arrive through the night, and stared
at us in amazement through the glass partition which separated arrivals and
departures. We must have been a curious
sight – a bunch of exhausted and desperately cold travelers huddling together for warmth on a Caribbean island,
and lining up eagerly for the free sandwiches distributed at 11:30 pm since the
only café open at that point was low on supplies.
We were finally on board
by 4:30 am. I had planned to correct a
pile of student essays I had hauled with me from Belgium, but by then I was
beyond caring. Seated next to me by the
window was a quiet and polite young man traveling solo. At one point, he asked me whether I spoke
Spanish, and he began our conversation by saying: “Es mi primera vez.” (It’s my first time.) I congratulated him, and then assured him
that most flights didn’t start off this way with a 10-hour delay. He replied very gently that he didn’t mind,
and seemed generally very serene about the whole ordeal.
As a Cuban, he had
probably experienced worse, I thought to myself. The rest of us are just far
too impatient and accustomed to comfort and convenience. It turned out that this young man was headed
to France to start a new life there with his French wife from Nantes whom he
had met and married in Cuba. He told me
that he had worked in a factory, and had also been in the Cuban navy. His French wife taught job skills to the
unemployed. They had last seen each
other in November and it was now late February. To my question about whether he
spoke French, he answered negatively, but seemed ready and willing to
learn. I assured him that as a Spanish
speaker, he would manage without too much difficulty, though French
pronunciation can be challenging.
I tried to imagine how he felt, and how he
experienced this flight…his first…a whole new chapter of his life. Life is an adventure, and if we remain
patient and nonplussed by the unexpected, we can learn from just about any
experience and come away feeling richer from having lived it.
 |
| Adios, Cuba mi amor.... |
Ernesto 'Che' Guevara Plaza de la Revolución
view from the rooftop restaurant
Cubans appear patient....used to waiting
Hugo Chávez of Venezuela was a close ally 
a once unknown sight....a house for sale....
(United and productive, defending the Revolution)
(For the Revolution and Socialism---Long live the workers!)
(Production...Efficiency...Quality)
a busy work day in Cienfuegos....'the Pearl of the South'
school boys in the national uniform heading home
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