Tuesday, March 29, 2016

Cuba mi amor...


                                                     



            


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 15th century, sugar was a rare and precious commodity imported from the Far East and available only to the rich. 
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!
                       
                                   
sugar cane stick
chopping block for pineapple and sugar cane




a Russian Lada


   
            tobacco drying in the barn.....                                              and growing in the field




orchids growing wild on a tree trunk





 





This girl band  was playing at a roadside stop

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.
 




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.

a slavery reenactment


 




Pinar de Río


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.
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.


José Martí, the 19th century intellectual independence fighter





I was mesmerized by the colorful parade of classic cars
books for sale in La Plaza de Armas
     memorabilia for sale in La Plaza de Armas
                                                 

La Plaza de Armas



La Plaza de la Catedral


Santera fortune tellers in La Plaza de la Catedral

The Plaza de la Catedral is particularly beautiful with its baroque style 18th 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. 
  
homage to Hemingway in the Hotel Ambos Mundos
                                                                                    


Fidel Castro and Ernest Hemingway 
Nobel Prize for "The Old Man and the Sea"

                                                       


 
       view from the rooftop restaurant
 
                                                                            Cubans appear patient....used to waiting
 

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.
  Hemingway loved Cuba 
The house is closed to the public, but you can walk all around it
                                               
an outbuilding on the grounds



 

 the tools of Hemingway's trade.....his typewriter 
and his fishing boat, Pilar

                                         


Hemingway loved to hunt game...trophy heads adorn the walls of the house
with journalist Martha Gelhorn, his 3rd wife

his studio in an adjacent tower
the nearby coffee roasting plant....the smell was acrid and alluring

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
grinding sugarcane to make piña coladas

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.

Parque Central


Sloppy Joe's...a famous Havana bar
the Malecón

the entrance to Chinatown, now diminished...35,000 Chinese  were brought in the late 1840s to work as servants 
 



the famous Hotel Nacional
 


 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. 

 



 



 


 



  






El Comandante 'Che' Ernesto  Guevara


I was surprised to see that the EU is helping to fund recycling in Cuba!

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

 

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 19th 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'
 

      
Cuban singer and actress, Rita Montaner; Cuban dancer and choreographer, Alicia Alonso       
   




public phone booths still in use here

   
la plaza central de Cienfuegos
       


      

 


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.

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. 


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.
Trinidad by night

 primary school in Trinidad
 Che Guevara's portrait on the wall
in the school's patio de recreo...revolutionary heroes Che Guevara and Camilo Cienfuegos

 

 


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.

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

















               
 



 



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....