Cuba Day 6: Falling in Love

We enjoyed the same breakfast again at Casa Telephonica. Tortillas dipped in eggs are brilliant. Today, Adam wanted to ride the ferry across to the old fort area, to get views of Havana back across the water. We asked a guard at an information desk inside a hotel how to find the ferry and he had no clue. The other guard started telling him where the ferry was, and they started arguing about it. Loudly. They gave us a sense of which direction to head, but continued to yell at each other. Adam and I backed away slowly and decided to take our chances finding it on our own.  We eventually found it, but it did not look like a ferry that we wanted to get on. Like everything else in Cuba, the word "ferry" does not mean what we envision in our heads. It looked like a 70 year old lobster boat from the Bering Sea.  So we decided to get on the open top bus instead.

We call this a "6-pack" photo

In most cities, the open-top bus runs about $30, allows you to plug in some earbuds and select your language from 10 choices and listen privately as you tour around. In Cuba, it costs $10, and they scream at you over a loudspeaker in both Spanish and English. Oy. 

A 10-pack

Typical street scene in Havana

We took a two hour tour around the city, and drove past the new American Embassy, which just opened there last September, for the first time since 1960. That's it on the right in the photo below. Somehow, it is in the exact same building it used to be in, on the Malecon. 

This flagpole display sits right out front, and while I am not sure, I took it as some kind of art installation that is supposed to mean "Cuba stands alone." 

Decaying buildings along the Malecon. This is ocean-front property in Havana.

The tour also included the "new" side of Havana, which we had not seen before. Two hours in the sun on the top of a bus taught us that isn't really worth going over there, because everything of historic and touristic value is in old Havana. Even the "nicer" areas in the suburbs of Havana are pretty much slums (not in the sense that they are dangerous, but they are in a serious state of decay).  

At least historic slums are much more interesting. Mid century slums just look like Van Nuys. 

These were the only nicer houses we saw, in the Miramar area. But all around them were crumbling buildings. I wondered how these people were able to maintain theirs so well.

We saw the Plaza de la Revolucion, where students gathered to get that ball rolling. It has two large office buildings, one with Che's handsome face and the other with, well, Fidel. Adam commented that "poor Fidel keeps hoping his face will catch on, just like Che's." Haha.

Plaza de la Revolucion

We drove past the hospital and the University of Havana, both which looked decent and comparatively up to date.

We had seen a ton of political propaganda signage all throughout our trip. As a PR person, and a politics enthusiast, it all fascinated me. This kind of signage is created to influence people, and stir emotions.  This one, though, really rubbed me the wrong way:

"Bloque" means blockade and it is what Cubans call the American embargo. This sign is saying that the American embargo against Cuba is "the longest genocide in history." Even though the UN has called our embargo illegal and urged us to abolish it for the past 25 years, I think the word "genocide" is a bit strong.

Most of the other signage looks more like this, which is still fascinating, because Cubans think they are free. They might be free from the old corrupt dictator Batista, but they are FAR from free.

Back in Old Havana, we drove back down the Malecon and saw a million more gorgeous cars from the bus top.

We got off the bus near the capital building and walked down a shopping street for locals, full of 1950s era department stores selling 1980s era clothing, furniture and home goods.  It was depressing, and I was hungry.  The closest hotel, Hotel Ingleterra, became our spot for lunch… but not for long. Like everything in that area, it was severely dated, but not at all in a good way.  It was very smoky inside, and the menu looked like government food, so we left.  We looked for another restaurant, but all we could find in that area was snack stands selling churros, pizza that looked nothing like pizza, and fried chicken. So we walked back to our area and ate at the Orient Café, which was the fanciest spot around. We didn't care. Fancy in Cuba means $20 for lunch, and at that point, we had just about enough of Cuban food.  I ordered chicken, rice, and vegetables and it was good. But best of all… they had iced tea on the menu! I almost cried!! The waitress brought me a cup of hot water, a tea bag & a glass of ice. I was about to yell, "Lady, that is not how this works!" But I decided to just do the manual labor myself, and brew/chill my own tea, knowing that tomorrow I would be able to have a venti black iced tea from Starbucks for $3 and no effort.

Next we were off on our mission from yesterday -- walking outside the cannons to take photos of the beautiful, haunting decay and to hand out money to cute kids.

A family walking home from lunch

 A fruit and vegetable market

 Some old dudes hanging out

My rule was, "if anyone asks, they get nothing. If they are sweet and don't ask, they get an American dollar." One dollar is a full day's pay for an adult in Cuba, so the kids we had given them to so far had been thrilled!

Right away I saw a young girl run out of a doorway crying, and run into the doorway next door. I found her sitting on the steps, sobbing.  I asked her if she needed a hug, and even though she didn't speak English, she jumped up and hugged me. The mom in me took over. I hugged her and told her not to cry, and stroked her hair. She looked up and gave me a small smile. I gave her a dollar and her smile grew significantly. I still don't know why she was crying, but I think about her sometimes, even more than a week later. 

Next, we passed two boys playing in the street. One said, "Señora, watch this trick!" and ran inside and did a handstand against the wall. I handed him a dollar. His friend came and said that he wanted a dollar too. I told him he had to do a trick, so he did a handstand too. They were so cute! And their home was total photography eye candy. Well worth $2.

Further down the road we saw a small boy lowering a bag attached to a rope off of a balcony.

His big brothers were working on a car below, and the kid was teasing them.  Adam told the boy to send down the bag, and he would send up a dollar. The boy said no and shook his head. His brothers yelled up to explain what we were saying and told him to lower the bag or come down. He yelled, "NO!" and stuck out his tongue at us. Lol! No dollar for you, kid!

We talked to a lot more people on our long walk, including one guy who we were pretty sure was a pimp.  The all loved to hear we were from America. They said Americans are very important to Cuba.  They asked us not to hold anything against the people, and said that they only blame our governments, not the American people, for what has happened.

Barber shop sign, with hairdo choices

We also saw a tree that had grown right through a building, and up the side. A man sitting on stoop across the street said that he had watched it grow from  a sapling -- for the past 50 years. I thought about the resilience of the tree, and the man, and almost started to cry.

This went on and on. We walked, talked to people, and handed out dollars in exchange for photos. This part of Havana really moved me. I could have walked around there for days on end. We saw houses that should have long ago been condemned, with no windows and the entire top floor missing. As we walked by, we could see people living inside.

A woman was living in this house!

A churro vendor walked through the streets yelling loudly, and kids came out of those crumbling buildings like ants. Moms yelled out their child's name from doorways, and kids came running. Boys played soccer in the streets on almost every block.

Time had truly stood still here. Not one building had been painted in 60 years. Not one modern car was in sight. Yet the people were not only nice, they were HAPPY. Except for the crying girl, everyone we spoke to had an air of lightness and joy about them. There was music and artwork everywhere — coming from the windows and painted on the walls.

People whistled as they walked. The kids were poor, but incredibly clean and well cared for.

Note how white this teen kept his outfit!

I saw a kitten in a pile of rubble and its mama with one green eye and one blue eye standing nearby, keeping watch. Even they seemed happy.

We saw tons of dogs, some of which followed us to share in our walk. 

We saw a rooster in someone's front window, jailed by bars.

Rooster

It was all so bizarre, and I was in love with Havana.

We walked back to the casa and sat outside on the steps while Adam smoked a cigar and played with an adorable cat. All of the other casa guests eventually returned, and we chatted for about an hour in the living room about our day.

Alejandro had secured tickets to the Buena Vista Social Club for us, so we got dressed up and headed out for our last night in Havana.  We walked outside into a complete downpour. Alejandro had ordered us a bicycle cab, but it had big rubber side flaps and a roof, so it was dry inside. The driver, however, had to pedal our not-so-skinny selves for 10 minutes, in the pouring rain, on cobblestone streets. That poor kid.

Inside, we had chicken, rice & beans and "cheese with jam" for desert. Once again, it was as if they saw that item on a menu on the Internet, and tried to copy it, but never saw or tried tried the actual food. The cheese to jam ratio was all wrong and the jam tasted exactly like Campbell's tomato soup, mixed with applesauce. Oh, Cuba.

I think the Buena Vista Social Club must have been way better 60 years ago, before everyone was in their mid to late 80s. Because it was, well, not so great.

It was still worthwhile to go, because of the history of the place. But they filled a lot of the 2 hour-show with audience participation and an emcee (who Adam called the Cuban Seacrest) talking.  They asked where everyone was from, and played a bit of music from that country. There were people from Brazil, Peru, Sweden, Germany, Australia, Canada, France, Italy, and us — the only 2 Americans in the room. 

We walked out at 11pm to hail a cab in the rain, and found our bike taxi guy there, waiting for us. That's a perfect metaphor for Cuba. Every time it lets you down, it picks you right back up.

Tomorrow: Heading home and final thoughts on Cuba

XOXO

Cuba Day 5: Havana Good Time (Except For The Milk Lady!)

Madelena made us a breakfast of fruit, juice, coffee, bread, and a tortilla dipped in scrambled egg then cooked (why didn't I ever think of that?!). We ate with a nice couple of men from Seattle, Keith and Sylvano (I think. We never could remember his name). As we were walking out the door, Alejandro told us to be sure to use bug repellent because there have been a few cases of Dengue Fever lately. Lovely. 

We walked around to take photos and go to the pharmacy to get something for our mosquito bites, but it was closed.  So instead we headed to the Museum of Chocolate, which conveniently, is also a restaurant. Adam had chocolate milk and I had hot chocolate with cinnamon. 

They gave us a few free little bon bons with our drinks. It was unlike any chocolate we have ever tasted. There were tiny crunchy little bits of sugar in it. I don't think I will ever like American chocolate again. 

We had a good laugh at the menu, which said, "Chocolate, bat, bat, whitewash, sugar and canola. Infancy's tidbit, and the grandmother's memories. The cocoa's chocolate, aromatic and dark American Bitneriaceo, nutritious past, exquisiteness of the future." -- HUH?! Something was definitely lost in translation. 

We went to a different flea market, where I bought some rings made of old silver spoons. They recycle EVERYTHING in Cuba. While we stood on the street in awe at how long the Western Union line was, a guy placed a parrot on Adam's shoulder for a photo, and it bit him on the cheek, actually drawing blood. Great, now we will have Dengue Fever AND Bird Flu!

Thirsty, I headed into the grocery store for locals. WOW. This is the largest grocery store we saw in Havana, and it truly turned my world upside down. I am a very picky eater, so seeing where Cubans buy their food made me realize I would probably die if I lived there. And it made me appreciate home so much more. These Cubans would faint from shock if they walked into a Trader Joe's!

It's set up like an old five and dime, with shelves behind counters, so you point at what you want, and a clerk gets it for you. But the selection is terrible! There was one small shelf of canned goods, one section of dry goods, and that section on the left was the entire pharmacy. The entire beverage section is on the right. 

Below is the prepared foods counter, where they sold fried chicken, government sodas, etc. 

As I was taking this photo, a stray dog walked right in the front door of the store, and nobody cared. Also note the large hole in the floor. 

The egg lady rationed out eggs, while the dry goods lady measured out everyone's rations of sugar and flour.  

This guy was measuring out portions of little gray discs. I asked what they were, and he said, "Sweet! Cookies!" Gross.

Feeling really bad for these people, we left and kept walking, looking at souvenirs being sold from people's homes.  Some lady with no top front teeth told me her baby was hungry and asked if I could buy milk. I said I wouldn't give her money. She said that it was not about money, that the government rations milk, and she had used her ration for the month already, but they would sell milk to tourists. She asked me to hold her adorable baby and for Adam to take photos, so I did, of course.

Then she asked me to follow her into a store, which was very much like the one we had just left, and she asked for a case milk from behind the counter. The cashier grabbed it (they were like juice boxes, but with milk inside — about 30 of them). The cashier looked at me and said something in Spanish which sounded like $3.00. I handed her 5 CUC. She firmly shook her head "no" and showed me a calculator that said $32!!!! All three of them, including the baby, stood there looking at me, waiting for me to pay. At this point I had forgotten she said it "wasn't about money." I felt pressured, and wanted the baby to have milk, so I forked over $35. In that split second I figured that $32 is nothing to me, but is HUGE to her — so I just went along and paid it. The cashier handed me back three dollars in change, and the lady held out her hand and said, "por favor? Por la bebe?" (That might be French, but you get the idea.) At this point, I was so irritated, I just gave her the three dollars. She took the baby and the milk and ran away quickly, leaving me standing in the store in shock! Adam walked in and told me he had just been approached by a prostitute on the street. He was in mild shock too!

As we walked, we talked about how the milk thing was definitely a total scam. There is no way that milk costs $32 when the monthly salary in Cuba is $30. I'm sure she returned to the store later, and got about $25 in change back from the cashier. Whatever, lesson learned. From now on, we decided, the answer is no. We also decided that we should probably stay inside the cannons. (This lasted about an hour.)

Hotel Saratoga Bar

We went to the hotel Saratoga for lunch and half an hour of Wi-Fi. We tried to order a Mediterranean salad, but they had run out of tomatoes. We had chicken sandwiches and fries. 

The hotel was near the Capitol building, so we took tons of photos of old cars in front of the building. Adam commented that "if you want an old car in front of something in Cuba, all you have to do is wait 2 minutes and one will come along!" It was so true!  

We passed a guy that was out cold on the sidewalk -- drunk with a bottle of rum at his feet. This became my favorite photo of the entire trip:

We walked up the Prado art walk and looked at paintings (Adam bought some), buildings, and cars, cars, cars...

...And even a man riding a super tall bicycle while wearing jorts! (Jorts are pretty much the official man uniform of Cuba.)

On our way back, we met a nice Cuban couple who told us it was the 80th birthday of one of the members of the Buena Vista Social Club and he was playing at a bar nearby. We followed them to the bar, but were a little nervous after the Milk Lady of Havana incident, and feared that this might also be some kind of scam, even though the old guy was really there, really playing music. So we stayed for only a few minutes, and then left. William seemed like a really nice guy, and I felt bad afterwards for not trusting him. Cuba will do that to a person. 90% of the people were very nice, and just wanted to share their culture and life experience with us. The other 10% wanted nothing but a quick buck. The problem was trying to figure out which was which.

We strolled past two adorable boys in a doorway, and started taking photos of them. They immediately started posing for us and hamming it up. I asked Adam to give them an American dollar and he pulled out two  -- those two little faces absolutely lit up! Adam said, "one for you, and one for you!" (in Spanish). The older brother said "YES!!!" And fist pumped. I swear, he fist pumped. He was so excited!!! Right then and there I decided I would spend the next 24 hours handing out dollars to the children of Havana. Outside the cannons. Adam agreed to fund my efforts.

Two boys, in the entrance to their house. Where they live. :-(

As we were negotiating my funding, I saw a chunk of a building fall off and land on the ground right before my very eyes. Oh, Cuba.

Back at the casa, we said goodbye to Alejandro, because he would not be working tomorrow. We gave him $50 for all the help he had provided, and all arrangements he had made for us.

Six weeks before leaving for Cuba, I made a reservation at La Guarida, a restaurant that is famous in Havana because it appeared in an award-winning Cuban movie "Stawberries and Chocolate." I was super excited about eating there. Alejandro called to confirm our reservation, and they said that they did not have it. They said, "oh, you made it on our website? Yah, that doesn't work."  Just one more plan that fell through.  

Alejandro

Alejandro recommended a rooftop restaurant in place of La Guarida, so we headed there instead — a nice paladar called La Monida Cubana. The food was actually delicious and the place had great views.  I had the ropa vieja that I had wanted last night, and creamed veggie soup. It was so good that it made climbing several sets of narrow marble stairs all the way to the roof worth the effort.

A lady also staying at our casa told us that an orchestra was setting up in the square a block away. We walked over and asked somebody what time the orchestra starts playing. "Tomorrow," he answered. Haha. Of course. 

So we walked to the waterfront to watch the cannon show (every night at 9pm, they blast off a real cannon from the fort across the channel, and it is LOUD!)  and saw tons of bats flying around in the park.  While we waited for the BOOM, we talked about Alejandro. He told us that his dad lives in Florida, and qualifies for a government letter that lets him bring a car back to Cuba with him. This letter is so rare, and so hard to get, that people who import new Hyundais or Honda Civics are able to sell them for $280,000 in Cuba. Seriously, that is the going rate. We were so confused by this, and wondering how anyone could afford that. (And no WONDER there aren't any modern cars.)  

Adam taking a photo of 1 of the 4000 dogs and cats we photographed in Havana

On our way home, we stopped in a little living room souvenir shop. I bought 2 bags, screen printed with scenes of old cars. The owner wanted 24 CUCs. I offered her 20 and she flashed a smile to her husband that told me I had just been had, but I didn't care. We ended up buying a bunch of other stuff from her too, and chatting for a while.  The lady loved my Alex and Ani bracelets and asked if I would trade them for something in her store. Sadly, I had to say no. I had just purchased them with Madelyn on our cruise, and we picked out matching ones to represent our trip, so they were too sentimental (and a lot more valuable than any of her wooden trinkets)!

As I fell asleep I realized that the grocery store, the Milk Lady, William, the two little brothers, and the souvenir lady had done a number on my conscience. I felt really guilty about all I have in life, just for being born where I was born, and how little I am able to help others. Tomorrow would be a day of helping — one Peso Americano at a time.

Until mañana,

XOXO