Cuba- Land of Salsa, Beaches, and Fidel- Part I

Hello Again,

Sorry it's been a bit since my last entry, but Internet access has been tough to come by down here, and I've been on the go pretty much non-stop for the past 3 weeks. Heading out in just a couple hours and will have a night in Cancun on my way back to SF, before heading to Europe and the Middle East. I will do my best to get some pix up over the next few days before I leave the country again. But now onto the good stuff...

Cuba is a dream. In so many ways, so much about it is harder to believe than the Galapagos Islands, the land that time forgot. But unlike Darwin's paradise, Cuba represents a modern day anomaly, not a throwback to the days of yore. It's one of the remaining bastions of Communism/Socialism (along with China, Vietnam, and North Korea- they don't consider Scandinavia Socialist here). But sadly, just as with capitalism, the manifestation of this utopian ideology is wanting. Two currencies, national money for locals and convertible pesos for foreigners, create large disparities of income, and monthly salaries are just US$2 to $30, which lends itself to a society where everyone breaks the law just to survive. That said, there does seem to be a basic support net in place, and free education, healthcare, and food provide some modicum of security. Most importantly, there is a love of life, a love of music, of good company, and of dominoes that keeps the locals going; the people here are quite simply happy.

But let me back up a second. First of all, you may wonder how an American can even get to Cuba. It's actually quite humorous and surprisingly easy given that it's supposedly illegal to come as a tourist. I actually had a formal letter from the United Nations inviting me to speak at their conference down here, so if I had a few months and $1,300 I could've probably scored a diplomatic visa, but as you might imagine, I wasn't interested. Instead, I flew through another country- Mexico in my case, but you can fly through Canada, Jamaica, etc. Arrived in Cancun and headed straight to Playa de Carmen, a lovely yet somewhat touristy resort near my beloved Tulum on the Mayan Riviera. Met up with Gisela there and enjoyed a day on the beach and lobster paella for dinner at my friend Vikram's favorite restaurant before heading out the next day.

The story of Gisela and I is quite romantic and still forming. She was my doctor when I was in Buenos Aires, and attended to my ear infection the day I was meant to leave for Ecuador. It was all sort of cosmic and coincidental, since only a few days before I had been thinking about my friends Vic and Kristin- I was his Best Man after he married his doctor, and wished something so simple yet perfect could drop into my life. And so it did- My Father and Aunt were with me at the time and I commented to my Dad that I thought she was a cutey, only to be embarrassed when she spoke English with me a bit later. We started chatting and she mentioned that she had been to Playa a few times, and was about to head there again. A common link was all I needed before asking her out to dinner, and the next night we enjoyed some tasty sushi in Puerto Madero, right on the water of the docks with their night lit cranes. We immediately shared a strong connection, a dedication to service, a love of travel and family, and a disinterest in living a life focused on material gain. The next day she took off work and we proceeded to spend three lovely days and nights together before my ear recovered and I moved on. Honestly, I thought it would end there, and that perhaps we'd reconnect when I came back to Argentina on my next annual jaunt. Instead, a couple weeks later she told me that she no longer felt right going to Mexico with another guy and that she wanted to be with me. I invited her to join me in Cuba, and she accepted. And so it was that these two star-crossed lovers found themselves in the land of Salsa, beaches, and Fidel.

Rewind back to the airport in Cancun. Gisela and I get to the front of the line and are asked for our tickets and passports, which we provide- she had bought our passages from an agency in Argentina. Then I was a bit surprised when the woman behind the counter asked for our visas. Gisela furnished hers, and then I stammered out that I’m an American and that I don’t have one. She swiftly and nonchalantly pointed to a table in the back of the terminal, where I was directed to pick up my visa, free of charge and no questions asked. As I returned to the counter, I started worrying about how I would fill it out. Nationality and passport number, please? While fretting over this at the counter, a nice guy next to us ensured me there would be no problems, and not to worry. I filled it out properly and they stamped the visa instead of my passport, so there’s no paper trail. Turns out half the flight was full of Americans!

Said, the gentleman that helped me out at the counter, happened to be seated right next to us. Turns out he’s the Belizian Ambassador to Cuba, and a really nice guy. He gave us tons of tips and eventually offered us a ride from the airport. Gisela and I got a huge kick out of being in a car with diplomatic plates and a little flag on the hood- just like the movies! Said invited us to stay with him at the official residence of Belize, which was formerly the embassy, and ensured us that his staff would take great care of us. They escorted us out and gave us a tour of La Habana (Havana), showing us the Morro, a famous castle from hundreds of years ago where they still re-enact the changing of the guards every night, complete with Cubans dressed up with colonial garb and white wigs. The best part of our tour was when we stopped by one of the guard’s houses and I wandered around the neighborhood taking photos. At one point I heard the beat of drums accompanied by singing, and Gisela and I strayed into a house where a Feria de Santas, an African Macumba or Orixas ceremony, was taking place. There was tribal drumming and singing, and I had to dip my hands in water before I could enter and do so again at the altar, where I left a flower. People, all of African descent, entered a circle in a trance, perhaps drug induced and perhaps more akin to speaking in tongues. They danced and spun around, sometimes needing to be propped up by their brothers and sisters. Finally, the security guard found us and immediately ushered us out, telling us that evil spirits can possess you at those kinds of events and warning us to stay away from the voodoo that abounds in Cuba.

Said treated us to dinner that first night at a nice local place and was happy to have us as his guests for however long we wished to stay. I have really enjoyed getting to know him, and hearing his touching personal story. He’s a joyous, stout figure with short brown hair and is just 33 years old. His career started when he left a monastery to care for his dying father, who had disowned him after his mother died in childbirth. Moreover, he had shown him disdain his entire life, blaming him for the death of his beloved, even though she had brain cancer and the doctor made it clear that giving birth would likely leave her blind, mute, and paralyzed, which it did. And then, when on his deathbed, did his father, a well-known foreign minister, turn to any of his other six children for help and support? No, he called on the one person that he needed to make peace with, and Said overcame his initial reluctance by relying on the vow of obedience he had taken, along with poverty and chastity, just a few years earlier. He slept on the floor, caring for his father day and night while all the other siblings rotated shifts, and in his last hours his father asked him to carry on his work and care for town, people, and country. Once again, Said answered the call and at the tender age of just 26, he became Mayor of a small border town next to Guatemala, Benque Viejo del Carmen. Due to disputes with Guatemala, and the fact that the much larger and populous nation is attempting to annex Belize and make it its own, Said gained great diplomatic experience. He returned back to his order in the United States and told his story to parishioners throughout the Midwest, but when his party came into power in 2006, he was asked to take on the role of Ambassador to Cuba. He continues to pray for guidance and strength, and astounds all those around him with his humility, good nature, and brilliant smile.

La Habana is quite a beautiful city, a blend of old and new. We enjoyed the Old Havana quite a bit, sampling the famous Mojitos at La Bodegita del Medio and gaping at the splendor of the plaza and church adjacent. There are small houses lining cobblestone streets there, and plenty of stores hawking their wares. Believe it or not, there’s also a Chinatown nearby, complete with Chinese restaurants but no Chinese people that we could see. That doesn’t stop the locals from wearing traditional silk gowns and encouraging you to come dine with them. Pre-1959 American cars, some of which are beautifully restored, abound, a cool juxtaposition made with the decrepit buildings that are everywhere downtown. The main thing we were hoping to find out about, though, was the annual Jazz Festival, which is now in its 25th year. Unfortunately, try as we may, it was not until the second to last night that we finally tracked down some intel and scored a copy of the program. We missed Omara Portuondo, of Buena Vista Social Club fame, but were able to make a couple shows the next night, including seeing the most popular Cuban Salsa band, Los Van Van. They have been at it for 40 years and it was great to see the crowd so into the music, dancing and singing throughout the set. I was especially drawn to the fact that they had two young children, no more than 12 years old, playing with the band, no doubt grandchildren of some of the established musicians.

The main purpose of my trip was to speak at a United Nations conference for the Global Alliance for ICT (Information and Communication Technology, read) and Development. The focus was on how the Internet can and is supporting education in Latin America and the Caribbean. Interesting that the venue they chose was a country seriously lagging in this regard, where people aren’t even legally allowed to access the Web, for fear of coming across opposing viewpoints to those offered by the state-controlled media. Regardless, it was a great experience to see my first truly international conference. Every desk had a machine that served as a microphone and a headset, through which you could select your language and listen to real-time translations. My panel was quite rushed, since we only had 45 minutes and there were 5 presenters, but I enjoyed talking about the leapfrog effect of technology (why install copper wiring when you can go right to wireless?), and it was fascinating to learn about the ways that technology is helping to level the playing field across income, age, and sex, around the world.

The next day, Said introduced us to the Ambassador from Argentina, who is right next door. Gisela got a huge kick out of having mate, a traditional Argentine herbal tea, with her, and talking about the problems facing doctors in Argentina. Later that afternoon, we rented a car and were off to the beach resort of Varedaro. We arrived that night and had our first Cuban lobster dinner- until this trip Gisela had never tried one of my lifelong favorite delicacies. The waiter was nice enough to give us a tip on a “casa particular,” or a private house that you can stay at (think Bed & Breakfast), right next to the restaurant in the heart of town. Even though none of the casas in Varedero are authorized to take foreigners, the dark of night convinced the owner that we wouldn’t be a problem and we were ushered in. Definitely a cheaper option that the all-inclusive hotels that abound in the area. After dropping off our bags, we followed the sound of nearby Salsa music to an open air bar, where tons of foreigners, mainly Canadians, were lounging and watching a show that mixed live music, African dance, and Salsa. As the night went on, everyone was dancing, and the locals were tearing it up with a combo of line dancing and Salsa that was unbelievable. Never before, or elsewhere in Cuba, have I seen such incredible displays of rhythm and grace.

We met some cool folks from Toronto and headed over to a nearby dance club. Reggaeton is quite huge here, as it is in almost all of Latin America, so we got down and enjoyed a few drinks. Turns out the resort that our new friends, Sunny and Paro (two Indian girls) and Reza and Shahab (two Persian guys that own a record shop/cafe), were staying at is unique in that they don’t distribute wristbands to their guests, so we decided to head there the next day and take in some Sun. The beach there was white, powdery sand and the water turquoise blue. Mojitos, mediocre food, and even worse talent shows were omnipresent at the resort, but we enjoyed the good company and had a few great days there. I also got my hair cut while there, including a shave with a straight razor and some background music provided by a jolly old Black man who was singing traditional Cuban music while he beat on the stool he sat upon.

Well, looks like it's about time for me to head out to the airport, so I'm going to have to stop here. Will write more soon, and hope you're all well.

Darian

Feb 27, 2009

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