Saturday, June 1, 2013

My Trip to Cuba - (Part 4) Havana

Helen Keller wrote "Many experiences lose their poignancy and importance is lost with the excitement of new discoveries."  This rang so true during my trip.  Everyday, I was learning something new, discovering something new and experiencing something for the first time.  As I reflect on my trip and attempt to put it into words, I hope its significance isn't lost, that its impact isn't watered down and that somehow, I do the experience an unfortunate injustice.  It was life-changing and I don't think I can express it any better than that, life-changing.

When I first arrived I felt out of place, like a tourist. But like a winter's snow on a warm spring morning, those feelings slowly melted away. I started to realize that this city and this country were a part of my heritage.  It helped to shape and mold my Father into the man he is; therefore, having an eternal influence on who I am as a person - a husband and a father.

I constantly worried for Eric.  What would happen if we were split up somehow and I couldn't find him?  Eric spoke very limited Spanish and, with no cell service, there was no Find My Friends app to be used.  We carried the address to the US Embassy, along with our passport and drivers license, with us everywhere, but, I had to have a backup plan. There was a church close to Loli's house.  Its steeple stood taller than the surrounding buildings and served as a lighthouse of sorts for me to gather my bearings while we were there.  I told him if we were to get separated in this area of Havana to look for that steeple, go to the church and we would meet there.  But, where we were headed was different.  We were going to the main tourist areas of the city and, in my mind, had a larger possibility of kidnapping or some other crime.  Visions of the movie Taken ran through my mind and I couldn't prepare for every scenario that I imagined.  There were many prayers for Eric during our trip, but especially on this day.

Inside the Guagua (Public Bus in Cuba)
We were unable to procure a vehicle for our visit to Havana, especially one that would fit all 6 of us, so we had to take the "guagua," or public transportation bus.  In other countries, the guagua is a small bus, but in Cuba, it is a large bus, packed to standing room only.  Apparently, the bus is for citizens only.  Enrique told us not to speak when we got on the bus, that he would handle it.  I saw him hand the driver some money and then he quickly ushered us towards the back of the bus.

Adding to my anxiety was the fact that every important thing we had was in a small backpack that we carried around with us.  All of our money, our passports and our return flight tickets.  It would have been easier to carry everything in something else.  I was told a fanny pack would be the best thing, but I just couldn't bring myself to buy one, much less use it.  I had visions of my Miami Dolphins-striped Zubaz along with my black fanny pack I used to wear in the 80s.  I had to quickly think of something else so that vision wouldn't haunt me any longer. I had thought about purchasing a satchel, but I just couldn't shake the video footage of Mr. Chow from The Hangover saying "It's a purse, kay!"  There were no ATM machines anywhere, so if I lost this money, we were in big trouble.  I had split the money into 3 - giving 1/3 to Eric, keeping one myself and leaving the other in our suitcases back at Loli's house.



Havana is the largest city in Cuba and most populous, spanning over 280 square miles with 2.1 million people.  Havana can be described as three cities in one -- Old Havana, Vedado and the newer suburban districts.  Cuba had welcomed more than one million tourists in 2012, mostly European.  Since it would be impossible to see it all in one day, I decided we should start in the tourist district and work our way around from there.

Once we arrived, we pushed our way out of the guagua and stepped onto the streets of Havana.  We were close to El Capitolio and the sounds of the city were the first thing that caught my attention -- the noises of old cars whizzing by, horse-drawn carriages and distant music filled the air.  

It's difficult to make out in the pictures below, but the picture on the left is of the Capitol the day we saw it.  It is in horrible condition and the dome is "being restored."  If you look closely, you can see the scaffolding surrounding it.  The scaffolding is meant to serve as a symbol of hope - a hope that buildings such as these aren't lost forever, that maybe one day they can be seen in their glory by the rest of the world - a free world - but we were told that no one has seen any work being done in some time.

The Capitol's beauty is scarred by years of neglect.  The building is in such bad shape that it has been deserted by the government and it is also closed to the public.  As we walked around it, we were overwhelmed by the smell of urine at every corner.  It was saddening.  The picture on the right is the picture I found on the Internet - the "image" the Cuban government wants you to see.   


Photo I took of Capitol Building
Internet Photo of Capitol



Since it is closed to the public, we were unable to go inside, but I found this picture of the interior salon.  It was inspired by the Panthean in Paris and was constructed in the United States.











The inside of the main hall under the cupola is dominated by the huge Statue of the Republic (La Estatua de la República). The statue was cast in bronze in Rome in three pieces and assembled inside the building after its arrival in Cuba.  It is covered with 22-carat (92%) gold leaf and weighs 49 tons.














There is a diamond embedded in the floor in the center of the main hall, Enrique told us.  It is a replica 25-carat (5 g) diamond, which marks the Kilometre centre for Cuba. The original diamond, said to have belonged to Tsar Nicholas II of Russia and sold to the Cuban state by a Turkish merchant, was stolen on March 25, 1946, and, mysteriously, returned to the President, Ramon Grau San Martin, on June 2, 1946.  In 1973, dictator Fidel Castro had it removed from the floor and replaced by a replica.  Its whereabouts today remain unknown, but it is assumed to be in Castro's coffers. (Thank you, Wikipedia!)

Across from the Capitolio was a large shopping area - a mall of sorts, only all of the stores were on the lower levels of three- and four-story buildings with the upper floors serving as housing.  There are no dryers in Cuba; therefore, every balcony had clothes lines draped across it, many with clothes drying.

We entered one of the main tourist areas in Havana. All of the buildings were brightly painted and the road between them was narrow, not really wide enough to drive through and, judging by the foot traffic, I don't think they were open to automobile traffic.  Welcome to Old Havana!

Old Havana
Old Havana



In front of me was the famous Floridita, Ernest Hemingway's favorite bar.  Floridita, which opened in 1817, is credited with the invention of the Daiquiri in the 1930's. When you hear the name Old Havana you would think that this is the part of town that is run down and falling apart, but it isn't. This is the main tourist area of Havana and it is obvious by all of the small shops, hotels and foreign tourists.    

As we walked passed Floridita, we heard a scream that immediately caught our attention. We didn't notice anything unusual, so I just chalked it up to someone scaring a friend or spouse.  The memory of this makes me smile because I think of all of the times I have hidden around a corner, waiting for my unsuspecting wife or son to walk by, or doing the same at the firehouse, just so I can scare them. (Good times!)  We heard another scream and then we noticed these statues along the sidewalk! Everyone was taking pictures and I also filmed one of them to capture the memory.


                                            
We then perused several shops and bought a few keepsakes to take back home because I knew we might not ever have a chance to come back.  With the cleanliness of the area and all of the different languages being spoken, I didn't feel like I was in Cuba, but somewhere else completely.  This could easily have been the French Quarter in New Orleans or a city in Spain. 

In front of every restaurant, someone was holding a menu for us to look at and every hotel had a doorman that greeted us with a smile.  Couples were holding hands, Cuban music was billowing out of every bar and keepsakes were being sold on every corner.  It was easy to forget, and hard to believe for that matter, that just a few blocks away the city was literally falling apart.

We were getting hungry, so we decided to eat at this little restaurant with some outdoor tables.  It was obvious that everyone was tourists and my best guess was that they were all European.  Pitchers of Sangria were on most tables with an occasional Cristal beer here and there. We grabbed a table and placed our orders.  Eric ordered Arroz con Pollo (chicken and rice).  Chicken and rice is a traditional Cuban meal, cooked with whole pieces of chicken, olives, garlic, bay leaves and saffron which gives it a nice yellow color as well as great taste.  I ordered black beans, rice and steak.  Alex and David ordered Spaghetti.  Immediately, I thought "What?  Spaghetti?  Are you kidding me?"  But, as in most cases, two things the kids love to eat are spaghetti and pizzas.  However, the pizzas in Cuba are nothing like what we are accustomed to in the US.  They are all personal-sized, a little smaller than a piece of pita bread, and have what looks like watered down sauce, along with very little cheese.  Papa John would have a fit!  These kids love it and since they don't know any difference, I wasn't going to ruin it for them by critiquing their food choices.  We all ate our meals and between bites, I enjoyed people-watching and checking out the surrounding buildings.

After lunch, we continued walking down the narrow street which led to a large courtyard that surrounded a large statue with a water fountain in the center.  Every building in the courtyard had been completely restored and each had a before and after picture posted on it.  Enrique explained to me that we had entered what is now known as the "Old Square."  Originally built in the 17th century (along with four other squares), Old Square served as a military nerve center where  bull fights, fiestas and executions were held and witnessed by Cuba's wealthiest citizens from their balconies.  Each building was unique and all were beautiful.  Each had incredible hand-crafted, stained glass and detailed woodwork.  I could have spent an hour on each building just admiring the architecture and craftsmanship. 

Panoramic View of Old Square

As I reflected back to memories of my father telling me of the executions on these same squares during the Bay of Pigs, I was quickly brought back to reality by some great music.  Someone was playing the flute like nothing I have ever heard.  We made our way down to the establishment. I was distracted at first by these tall (nearly four feet) containers of beer on the tables, but luckily, I was able to capture the last part of the song.  We bought some fresh coconut ice cream that was served in half of a coconut shell, then sat and listened to the music, admiring the architecture and taking in the sights and sounds of the people and the square. 


When we finished our ice cream, we decided to walk towards El Malecon - a 4-mile stretch of boardwalk, seawall and roadway along the coast in Havana.  Enrique took us on a different route so we could see the other parts of Havana - the "non-tourist areas." It was only a couple of blocks away and it was like someone had flipped a switch.  We couldn't believe the difference.  The streets were in horrible condition.  What was once a beautiful cobblestone street had been reduced to a road, riddled with large holes with exposed water lines and the familiar odor of raw sewage.  Although some of the buildings were abandoned, they were in such horrible shape that metal supports surrounded them to stop them from collapsing and potentially injuring pedestrians. 

In this video, you can see just how bad the road and buildings are.

 




Away from the tourist areas, Havana was a different city. Gone were the freshly restored and manicured buildings. They were replaced by run-down, bedraggled buildings with little resemblence of their former beauty.

We came upon a fire station. Being a firefighter, I had to stop and see if they would give me a tour.  Camcorder in hand, an on-duty firefighter greeted us and and agreed to give me a tour, but told me that I could not film anything here because it was a military establishment.  Unbeknownst to this gentlemen, I left the camera on and recorded anyway, but what I recorded isn't worth posting.  They had a lot of equipment at this station, including tankers, because there very few fire hydrants in Havana and the ones they do have seldom work.  Most of the equipment is outdated and would be used in the US as a reserve unit, at best.  The only new equipment they had was a command bus.  It looked quite impressive from the outside, but I was not allowed to see inside of it.  We exchanged a few stories and he acknowledged my tales with "Yes, we know, we all watch Chicago Fire."  "Oh boy!"  was all I could think. I really hoped that was not how they perceived firefighters in the US.

As I was talking to one of the drivers, he asked me what I earned per week.  I told him we got paid every two weeks, but when I told him the amount, he told me to take the first digit off [my bi-weekly pay] and that was more than he makes all year!!  It is still crazy to think that they survive on less than $400.00 a year.

We left the station and passed the taxis, tourist buses and shops and came up on the seawall where El Malecon begins.  When you see pictures of Havana, El Melacon is always among them.  It is a popular location for locals as well as tourists.  

El Melacon
The first group of fishermen I saw were fishing directly behind a "No Fishing" sign.  They had no fishing rods or nets, they simply fish with fishing line tied to a can or bottle.  The water looked disgusting.  Loli explained to me that there is a project underway to clean the harbor and that there is a new port being built (where the Mariel Boat Lift began) that will be strictly used for commercial traffic.  Loli also mentioned this new port would be the future home for international cruise lines.  "Wishful thinking!"  I thought to myself. 


Young Cubans fishing
Restaurant on Harbor
                                                 
Despite most of the buildings being in ruin, El Melacon continues to be a popular destination, not only for tourists, but for lovers and locals as well.  You will always see fisherman like the ones I came across, some with fishing rods, but most with just fishing line and hook or with yo-yos.  Yo-yos are small round spools, with a hole in the center that holds the fishing line.  It is nothing fancy, but they make it work.

Unfortunately, El Malecon is also home to prostitutes, both male and female, and other "unsatisfactory transactions."  You'd think that these things would be under control with the multitude of tourist buses and taxis in the area, but that simply isn't the case.

With the view of the the Morro Castle across the harbor, the various statues that line the roadway, the seaside eateries and the ocean waves splashing against the wall, it's easy to picture this place as a popular tourist attraction, open to all countries, but only time will tell.

Fishing boats on the Harbor
Seawall and Morro Castle in background
Beautiful Statue of Jesus




We were told it was time to leave and, after walking all day, I was ready to go!  As we headed back toward where the guagua would pick us up, we walked down a long and wide sidewalk, flanked on both sides by large trees, which provide shade as you walked down it. The sidewalk appeared to be new and was lined with benches. There were artists selling their work and musicians performing all along the stretch of this sidewalk, and, for a moment, I felt like I was in Savannah, Georgia, or another small, seaside town.   (See photo to right.)  All it took; however, was one more block and that image was ruined.  We were back to the run down buildings and the broken up streets.  
When we arrived back near the Capitol, I noticed a large group of school kids, all in uniform. These uniforms were different from the ones I had seen -- they looked cleaner and brighter and these children looked more polished and refined, so I asked Enrique about it.  He told me that these were the kids that were chosen to take advanced learning classes and receive higher education at the university, just as Alex had explained to us earlier.  They were waiting for the bus that would take them to the university.  They spend the entire week living there and return home the following weekend.  "They were the 'chosen ones'!"  I said outloud.


Across the street was the old Partagás factory with it's large wooded door.  The authentic Cuban-produced Partagás has been one of the most revered and highest-selling cigars in the world and is one of the oldest brands in Cuba.  To the left of the factory was a field with half a dozen or more old train engines.  According to Enrique, they have been trying for years to make some sort of museum with those trains, but they have just been sitting there, rotting away, for as long as he can remember.  A young man approached us, asking if we wanted to buy 'smokes,' and we knew immediately he didn't mean 'cigars.'  Enrique and I both gave him a look that undoubtedly said, "You'd better run or I'll break you in half!"  and he turned around and went back to his friends.  He did come back and apologize, stating he didn't mean any harm.

On the ride back to the bus stop near Loli and Enrique's, the guagua was even more crowded.  There was a man eyeing Eric, who was carrying the backpack with all of our documents and money in it.  When Eric took out his iPhone to play a game on it, I saw the man stand up straight and his eyes get big.  He looked like he was up to no good... and he had some friends with him.  I told Eric to put the phone away and to hold that backpack like his life depended on it.  I took a step closer to Eric and literally forced this jack--- curious bystander to back away from him.  He must have gotten the hint that I wasn't playing around because his curiosity quickly wandered towards something else. I was tired and hungry, which is not a good combination for a friendly mood.  Just ask my wife!

We finally arrived back at Loli's, where we had dinner and, of course, coffee.  The following day, which was Monday, would be the last possible day that my father could get his visa and still join us on this trip.  I went to bed that night praying that he would receive it in time to join Eric and me as we left Havana and traveled the 3 or so hours to where he grew up.  We would be traveling to Bermejas, which is about 8 miles northeast of Playa Jiron, the Bay of Pigs, where my father battled Castro's troops during the revolution in 1961, where he was captured and later imprisoned.  There are 2 uncles, 2 aunts (my father's brothers and sisters), their spouses and numerous cousins that I have never met and I fell asleep that night wondering how it was going to feel, how these meetings would go and what the future had in store for us.



2 comments:

  1. Good work Jorge . not been there was hard for me , because I new what your dreams where for this trip , but for you and Eric not having me there was tense and so unnesesary . That is Cuba , unnesesarely dificult , the comunist way of life .

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  2. Your writings of this trip bring very good imagery. Loving it so far. It’s like I’m there. The part where some thugs were eyeing Eric... glad you were on your game. I believe they will be free again one day, and will be able to reignite the Cuban way. The Human Spirit can’t be crushed for too long before something changes. I hope that’s not just wishful thinking.

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