July 9, 2011 - We've left Havana for a 2-day road trip to Pinar Del Rio to the West. Along the way we've stopped at an Eco-Tourist area to visit Las Terrazes and eat lunch at El Romero, the famous vegetarian restaurant in Cuba.
Unfortunately, to deliver a lot of information to a large group of people, we find ourselves listening to lectures quite often. While everyone packed into a hot room at the Ecological Center, I enjoyed watching the gecko and hummingbird action outside. Sitting under an awning in a lounge chair increased my enjoyment of this particular information session considerably. I rose only to take a photo of the ubiquitous Jose Marti bust nearby.
Lunch at El Romero was truly delicious. I discussed a possible entrepreneurship idea with Masai, our faculty adviser on the trip. She suggested that any concept that works to address Individual, Practice, Community and World will have a better path towards success. Show how your product/service connects with each of these areas and you will speak to people in powerful ways. As to the meal itself - lotus flower ceviche, black bean soup, quiche, quesadilla, seitan steak and guava ice cream. We followed all of this with coffee at Cafe De Maria next door.
We've now been in country for nine days. I'm feeling over the initial round of culture shock and past the doldrums of homesickness. I stand ready to explore this natural area and see some production operations of various agro-industial products.
July 10-12, 2011 - I was viciously bitten by a cat (el Gato) on my big toe and lost my mind. Also, we hiked some and sweated a lot.
July 13, 2011 - Yesterday ended with dinner at a Paladar (restaurant) and Bed & Breakfast run by a man named Giovanni and his family. The meal was delicious - lobster tails, crab and fish, black beans, rice, cheesy mashed potatoes and other wonderful homecooked delights.
Giovanni spoke English, Spanish, German and Italian (and even Greek - though none of us understood that one). He's run his own business for six years and charges 10 CUC for dinner (not including drinks) and 25 CUC for a room for one night.
Prior to dinner, Amy and I located a little record "store" with literally thousands of LPs for sale. We bought a dozen authentic Cuban records from the 1950s, 60s and 70s. The owner was a very kind man who gave us many recommendations for good artists representative of classic Cuban styles of music from days gone by. We had a great time browsing through his collection and he was the epitome of a no-pressure salesman.
July 15, 2011 - Havana Airport. We arrived on our final day in Cuba around 10:30 AM only to find our 1:00 PM flight delayed indefinitely. We sat, drinking beers, eating junk food, playing cards and other impromptu games with food packaging to keep ourselves entertained. The joys of third-word travel, I suppose. We've all hit the wall and yet we must each endure.
The gate remains empty and what appears to be a tropical storm has descended upon us. Heavy rain dumps on us, reducing visibility outside to nothing. A few leaks spring forth, revealing the age and wear of the airport terminal roof covering our heads high above. Rum and beer sales will no doubt ease the pain on both sides of the counter, but this too shall be short-lived relief.
Thankfully, this is a better than average group to find myself stuck with today. Food and money and drinks are shared willingly and freely. Together, we keep the mood light and focused on what we can control, rather than all those things we cannot. A fitting ending to two weeks riding this wild alligator of the Caribbean.
July 16, 2011 - 36,000 feet in the air, sipping a soft-drink and watching television over the shoulders of strangers. I am content to have every minute draw me closer to home in Portland, Oregon. I used to drink beers on such flights, but the expense and now obligatory credit-card transaction involved has switched me back to the free stuff. On the screen, it's House. Another shows endless commercials to someone unwilling to pay for DirectTV in flight, but apparently also unwilling (or unable) to shut off the screen.
Two weeks observing daily life in Cuba - even from my Camera Obscura tourist lens - has me in a curiously enhanced mode of voyeurism. I feel nearly every interaction over the past fortnight has been from an observer standpoint, rather than an actual actor in the scene. The plane home is no different.
We managed to sail through Houston customs without incident, despite writing CUBA on our declarations page. It was, I must admit, rather anti-climactic to not have to make our case to the skeptical satisfaction of the gatekeeper. I had imagined a dimly lit room with cold, steel table waiting for me, questions coming rapid fire from FBI/TSA jackbooted thugs determined to catch me in a lie. Too much Law & Order re-runs rattling around in my imagination.
However, just a few minutes later my desire for evidence of police-state over-reach was fully satisfied once I "opted out" of the full-body X-Ray scanner. The body frisking that followed was a strange process, but Buron the TSA Agent happily explained the whole process as he placed his hands on different nooks and crannies of my body to protect the skies from Terror. I'm not positive when I will fly again, but at least Portland does not (yet) have these devices.
Cuba, as we experienced it on our tour, confuses and perplexes me. There is something very admirable in the stubborn resistance and resilience of its people. Yet, what I also see is a poor country on the brink of complete collapse. The system, by Fidel's own admission, is a failure. What will rise from these ashes? How can it ascend and also maintain the fearful grip of those currently in power?
Perhaps it's the ultimate Banana Republic (if that's not what the US itself could be called), so corrupt it appears business is being conducted. How can private enterprise ever take hold in an economy in which 40% of incoming hard currency is funneled into the hands of the military?
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