My Trip to Cuba (Part 6)
It's funny how certain things become obsolete over time. I remember when growing up, you could dial 0 and get an operator to help you with your call. Then there was the rise and fall of the VCR, vinyl records and cassette tapes. Anybody remember the 8-track? Watches, thanks to cell phones, are also taking a hit. I don't wear one anymore because I can simply look at my cell phone and check the time. I could have used a watch on this trip, especially Tuesday morning.
I am awakened by a very loud "cock-a-doodle-doo!" this morning. It sounded like it was right outside my open window. It took me a minute to realize I wasn't dreaming. It was pitch black outside and as I searched for my nightstand, I realized I wasn't at home. I briefly wished I was wearing a watch. I still kept my phone charged even though there was no service, but I was using it as a camera and a clock. I fumbled for my phone, and once I found it, pushed the button to see what time it was: 2:13 a.m.! "What the heck!" This rooster must be drunk, or has come from a different time zone. And what is a rooster doing in the city of Havana anyways? I quickly stopped my brain from asking too many questions. If I kept that up, I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep from pondering all of the questions that come to mind when you're awakened by a confused rooster at 2:13 in the morning.
I awake later that morning to the whirring of two fans running and the occasional clicking as one of the fans changed direction. I picture it sweeping across the bed, like a lawn sprinkler then stopping and reversing it's direction. I lay in bed and kept my eyes closed defiantly as to not surrender to the dawn of the new day. It was useless, the excitement of the day quickly dissipated the sleepiness I was feeling. The fans sufficed for our stay although it was a little hot when we first went to sleep. Being April, I began to wonder how brutal the summers were here with no air conditioning. ,I didn't see a single air conditioning unit anywhere. ,I know some people had them, I just didn't see any. Enrique had a window unit on the floor of the living room but it was a 220 volt unit and there wasn't 220 anywhere in his house. ,He bought it, of course, on the black market a couple of years earlier. ,He was hoping to save to get a permit to run the proper voltage to his house and install the unit. The humidity in July and August must be unbearable. I lived in Miami for a few years and the humidity there was stifling, like walking into a large oven when you went outside. I imagine it's worse in Cuba.
I am awakened by a very loud "cock-a-doodle-doo!" this morning. It sounded like it was right outside my open window. It took me a minute to realize I wasn't dreaming. It was pitch black outside and as I searched for my nightstand, I realized I wasn't at home. I briefly wished I was wearing a watch. I still kept my phone charged even though there was no service, but I was using it as a camera and a clock. I fumbled for my phone, and once I found it, pushed the button to see what time it was: 2:13 a.m.! "What the heck!" This rooster must be drunk, or has come from a different time zone. And what is a rooster doing in the city of Havana anyways? I quickly stopped my brain from asking too many questions. If I kept that up, I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep from pondering all of the questions that come to mind when you're awakened by a confused rooster at 2:13 in the morning.
I awake later that morning to the whirring of two fans running and the occasional clicking as one of the fans changed direction. I picture it sweeping across the bed, like a lawn sprinkler then stopping and reversing it's direction. I lay in bed and kept my eyes closed defiantly as to not surrender to the dawn of the new day. It was useless, the excitement of the day quickly dissipated the sleepiness I was feeling. The fans sufficed for our stay although it was a little hot when we first went to sleep. Being April, I began to wonder how brutal the summers were here with no air conditioning. ,I didn't see a single air conditioning unit anywhere. ,I know some people had them, I just didn't see any. Enrique had a window unit on the floor of the living room but it was a 220 volt unit and there wasn't 220 anywhere in his house. ,He bought it, of course, on the black market a couple of years earlier. ,He was hoping to save to get a permit to run the proper voltage to his house and install the unit. The humidity in July and August must be unbearable. I lived in Miami for a few years and the humidity there was stifling, like walking into a large oven when you went outside. I imagine it's worse in Cuba.
Breakfast consisted of some leftover bread from yesterday, some guava paste that I had bought, a single fried egg, and of course, coffee. Over breakfast, Loli talked of a restaurant that is about 2 hours away on our three and a half hour drive to the small village west of Bermejas, where the rest of my family lives. She explained to me that it is actually a house that has a small seating area in front of it, where they serve home cooked meals. I had visions of Anthony Bourdain and me sitting down to enjoy a meal prepared in one of the most remote locations on the island. He did a show about Cuba a couple of years ago. In his opening dialogue, he explained that he was only able to go where the government allowed him to go. I wished I could drag him along with me to write about the real Cuba, the Cuba that the government doesn't want you to see. I have a feeling it would be a real eye opener for many.
After breakfast, we gathered our suitcases and some fishing gear I had brought along and headed towards the rental car. As we walked out through Loli's back yard, I looked down and there was Enrique's Pigeon. "See!" Enrique said, "They always come back." I wonder why, I thought to myself. If I could fly I'd end up in a palm tree by the beach for sure.
I remember hoping the car was still there in one piece as we made our way through the narrow alleys and sidewalk out to the street where the car was waiting for us.
As I turned a corner, there was a gentleman hitting a piece of cement with a hammer trying to get to the piece of metal rebarb that was encased inside of it. Enrique asked his neighbor what he was doing and the gentleman looked up at him and said "I need the piece of metal in here so I can make a part for my car." Crazy, I thought, the ingenuity that grows out of desperation.
Honestly, I was a little nervous about driving in Havana. The person I rented the car from gave me a certification with his name on it and told me if I were to get pulled over to tell the police that I am his cousin visiting from the states and that I have permission to drive his car. Under no circumstances was I to mention that I was renting the car. On the previous test drive through Havana, I drove upon a rear end collision and there was a passenger being loaded in an ambulance. I asked Enrique about insurance requirements in Cuba and he said there aren't any. He further explained to me that a nephew of his was just in a bad accident and is still hospitalized requiring back surgery. His nephew, who was fortunate enough to have a job, would certainly lose his job - not to mention his car was totaled. A wreck in Cuba could be catastrophic to a family. "Great!" I thought, "one more thing to worry about."
We loaded up the car and the first thing I was asked was to turn on some music and turn on the air conditioner. Two things we take for granted that is a luxury to many Cubans, riding in a car with the air conditioning on and some tunes on the radio. As I drove through the city streets, feeling like a teenage driver in a drivers ed class, I tried to take in the moments. Never did I think I would be doing this and to have my son along made it that much better. I started turning onto the on-ramp for the highway and I noticed more people than ever. The entrance to the highway was littered with people and animals. Many of the people had money in their hands or signs with money waving to us as we drove by. There were hitchhikers everywhere. Loli explained that these people are needing rides and are holding out money, hoping somebody will stop and pick them up. Under every bridge or shady spot along our drive were hitchhikers waving money just trying to get a ride.
As I entered the highway, called Autopista National, I didn't see a single car anywhere. The highway had 3 lanes on each side but they were all in need of repair. There were huge pot holes and sections that looked like they had forgotten to put asphalt down.
I accelerated and found a lane with the least amount of damage. As I drove with Havana to our backs, the view quickly changed. Houses became less sparse and pretty soon there was nothing but countryside and farms. Most of the land seemed unused. Occasionally, I would see some land that was being used for farming, but much of the land surrounding it seemed untouched.
Enrique said that even though they have more people farming, production is down. He said basically, there is no incentive to produce more. You aren't rewarded financially or even given more if you work or produce more so people have become lazy and only do the bare minimum. As a result, Cuba imports an estimated 80% of the food it's people consume. It's hard to believe that an area with such possibilities is handcuffed by the greediness of a Socialistic Dictator.
I continued driving and while avoiding pot holes, I tried to take in as much of the scenery as possible. I was worried about a flat tire since there would be no way to replace or repair a tire if we had one. I could picture me standing out by the road waving money with a tire in one hand trying to hitch a ride to the next town. That would make for a bad day. No AAA here.
After a couple of hours, Loli said to look to the left for a farm house that had a restaurant inside. We found the mile marker we were looking for and I pulled into the median. The restaurant was no longer there, only the charred remains of posts that previously supported the structure and a section of counter. The posts had been painted various colors but their ends were ashen like those of a cigar. The trees that previously surrounded the restaurant were burnt and mangled. It was an ugly contrast to the surrounding trees, flowers and buildings that made up the remaining homestead. I decided to pull in anyway and see if by chance they were still serving food.
There were about a half dozen tables and various chairs set about the yard and it appeared they were still open. Being a foodie, I eagerly exited the vehicle and grabbed a seat. The waitress, the farmers daughter, came and got our drink order and told us what they had. There were only two choices, pork chops or chicken. As I was deciding which one, I felt something walk across my feet and looked down to see a chicken walking past. Thinking of the rooster this morning and the chicken that just crossed my path were an omen I quickly said "I'll have the pork chops!"
One thing you get used to in Cuba is hearing "No hay" or "we don't have it." There wasn't a menu much less a list of side items. All plates came with sides of moros, (cuban rice and beans) and salad. They also had a few soft drink choices. The food was fantastic. The meat and salad were on one plate and another plate came loaded with moros. I couldn't eat it all. The pork chops were lightly seasoned and cooked to perfection and the moros were fantastic. They were flavorful with a hint of garlic, onion and pork. The salad comes without dressing and is eaten that way. If you were to ask for dressing, you would here "no hay." I ate and watched some workers and the owner trying to rebuild the burnt down restaurant.
Being a fireman, I had to ask the owner what had happened to start the fire. He said he was awaken by the fire one early morning and by the time he got outside it was too late. He didn't know what started the fire. He also talked about wanting to expand his menu to include pizzas and burgers, but the government wouldn't allow him to serve those items. Shortly after his request was denied, his restaurant burned down.
I noticed he had some sort of welder with two wires that ran off of it. He was attaching two wires to a bundle of wires that ran across the tree next to our table. After a closer inspection, I noticed that these wires provided electricity to the farm house but two of them had bare spots on them and that is where he attached his wires from his welder. In the video below, you will notice the man explaining how they use the wires for electricity that I'm referring to, along with some of the Cuban workers who were helping to restore the restaurant's tin roof.
After a few days, I noticed this use of wiring was very common. In some houses, they didn't have a typical light switch, they would just disconnect the wire and reconnect it when they wanted the light back on. I had to remember not to go reaching for light switches in the dark.
Feeling full and in need of a nap, we loaded back up in the car and continued our journey. I don't think I saw more than 20 cars our entire drive down the highway. The only one that stood out was a BMW that flew by us doing well over 100 miles per hour. "Maybe it was Jay Z and Beyonce!" I thought later.
The roads are so void of cars that some farmers spread rice out on the highways for it to dry before they package it I was told later that day. As we got closer to the coast, the drive reminded me of driving on US1 or Card Sound Road to the Florida Keys. I decided that I would stop at the next open area of beach, take some pictures and take in the scenery. We came upon an area called "Los Trailers," - yep, exactly like it sounds. It was a small area with maybe 15 houses on it and a couple of old trailers.
There was a small cove here that had a little beach area. The view was beautiful. The water was a few different shades of turquoise. The water on one side of the cove was a darker blue and was lightly splashing against dark coral rock and mangroves. There were a variety of trees with their leaves having many different shades of green. There were some trees with green leaves, but were speckled with red leaves which the contrast made the scenery even more stunning. On the beach area, the sand was light grey and the water was crystal clear. I looked out across the water and it was deserted except for a lone sailboat barely visible in the horizon. There were hardly any waves to speak of, the water was so tranquil, it was mesmerizing. I quickly grabbed my fishing gear and made my way to the beach. I felt like I did as a kid when the family was going to the beach. That excitement you feel in the pit of your stomach, I couldn't walk there quickly enough.
To say that I love fishing would be an understatement. My wife knew this when she met me and she will be happy to tell you of all the times during our marriage that I "let her" catch more fish than me. We even went fishing on our honeymoon. As I tied the jig to my fishing rod, I looked up and noticed my son was already about 60 yards out and Loli, in jeans and a shirt, was frolicking in the water with the smile and enthusiasm of a 6-year old kid. I grabbed the fishing rod and made my way out to where my son was. It was still very shallow considering how far out we were, but I could tell that another 20 yards in either direction and it would be over our heads. The sand gave way to grass, which was great for fishing, but not so much for swimming. Further to our left, where the water was deeper and there was no beach, I saw a fish jump out of the water. I only made about 3 or 4 casts before my son asked for the fishing rod. I handed it to him and laid back in the water and took it all in again. Normally, I wouldn't give my fishing rod to anyone, but the beauty of this place was more important to me. I wanted to enjoy this in a way that I would never forget it. I wanted it permanently imprinted in my memory so I could recall it in moments of stress or insomnia. I took a few steps back and watched my son fishing, Loli playing in the water like a child, Enrique laughing at Loli and my soul was full. This is what life is about. Moments like this when, unexpectedly, beauty in all of its forms smiles upon your soul. The sound of laughter, the sound of the water, the clicking of the fishing reel, birds singing, the smiles on all of our faces. It was as if God made this moment just for me.
I wanted to stay in this place forever, but we had to get going. I had so much family to meet this day and I couldn't wait to see their faces. As I got back into the car with the smile of a child at an all you can eat ice cream buffet, I said a little thank you to God as I drove away.
After breakfast, we gathered our suitcases and some fishing gear I had brought along and headed towards the rental car. As we walked out through Loli's back yard, I looked down and there was Enrique's Pigeon. "See!" Enrique said, "They always come back." I wonder why, I thought to myself. If I could fly I'd end up in a palm tree by the beach for sure.
I remember hoping the car was still there in one piece as we made our way through the narrow alleys and sidewalk out to the street where the car was waiting for us.
As I turned a corner, there was a gentleman hitting a piece of cement with a hammer trying to get to the piece of metal rebarb that was encased inside of it. Enrique asked his neighbor what he was doing and the gentleman looked up at him and said "I need the piece of metal in here so I can make a part for my car." Crazy, I thought, the ingenuity that grows out of desperation.
Honestly, I was a little nervous about driving in Havana. The person I rented the car from gave me a certification with his name on it and told me if I were to get pulled over to tell the police that I am his cousin visiting from the states and that I have permission to drive his car. Under no circumstances was I to mention that I was renting the car. On the previous test drive through Havana, I drove upon a rear end collision and there was a passenger being loaded in an ambulance. I asked Enrique about insurance requirements in Cuba and he said there aren't any. He further explained to me that a nephew of his was just in a bad accident and is still hospitalized requiring back surgery. His nephew, who was fortunate enough to have a job, would certainly lose his job - not to mention his car was totaled. A wreck in Cuba could be catastrophic to a family. "Great!" I thought, "one more thing to worry about."
We loaded up the car and the first thing I was asked was to turn on some music and turn on the air conditioner. Two things we take for granted that is a luxury to many Cubans, riding in a car with the air conditioning on and some tunes on the radio. As I drove through the city streets, feeling like a teenage driver in a drivers ed class, I tried to take in the moments. Never did I think I would be doing this and to have my son along made it that much better. I started turning onto the on-ramp for the highway and I noticed more people than ever. The entrance to the highway was littered with people and animals. Many of the people had money in their hands or signs with money waving to us as we drove by. There were hitchhikers everywhere. Loli explained that these people are needing rides and are holding out money, hoping somebody will stop and pick them up. Under every bridge or shady spot along our drive were hitchhikers waving money just trying to get a ride.
As I entered the highway, called Autopista National, I didn't see a single car anywhere. The highway had 3 lanes on each side but they were all in need of repair. There were huge pot holes and sections that looked like they had forgotten to put asphalt down.
I accelerated and found a lane with the least amount of damage. As I drove with Havana to our backs, the view quickly changed. Houses became less sparse and pretty soon there was nothing but countryside and farms. Most of the land seemed unused. Occasionally, I would see some land that was being used for farming, but much of the land surrounding it seemed untouched.
Enrique said that even though they have more people farming, production is down. He said basically, there is no incentive to produce more. You aren't rewarded financially or even given more if you work or produce more so people have become lazy and only do the bare minimum. As a result, Cuba imports an estimated 80% of the food it's people consume. It's hard to believe that an area with such possibilities is handcuffed by the greediness of a Socialistic Dictator.
I continued driving and while avoiding pot holes, I tried to take in as much of the scenery as possible. I was worried about a flat tire since there would be no way to replace or repair a tire if we had one. I could picture me standing out by the road waving money with a tire in one hand trying to hitch a ride to the next town. That would make for a bad day. No AAA here.
After a couple of hours, Loli said to look to the left for a farm house that had a restaurant inside. We found the mile marker we were looking for and I pulled into the median. The restaurant was no longer there, only the charred remains of posts that previously supported the structure and a section of counter. The posts had been painted various colors but their ends were ashen like those of a cigar. The trees that previously surrounded the restaurant were burnt and mangled. It was an ugly contrast to the surrounding trees, flowers and buildings that made up the remaining homestead. I decided to pull in anyway and see if by chance they were still serving food.
There were about a half dozen tables and various chairs set about the yard and it appeared they were still open. Being a foodie, I eagerly exited the vehicle and grabbed a seat. The waitress, the farmers daughter, came and got our drink order and told us what they had. There were only two choices, pork chops or chicken. As I was deciding which one, I felt something walk across my feet and looked down to see a chicken walking past. Thinking of the rooster this morning and the chicken that just crossed my path were an omen I quickly said "I'll have the pork chops!"Being a fireman, I had to ask the owner what had happened to start the fire. He said he was awaken by the fire one early morning and by the time he got outside it was too late. He didn't know what started the fire. He also talked about wanting to expand his menu to include pizzas and burgers, but the government wouldn't allow him to serve those items. Shortly after his request was denied, his restaurant burned down.
I noticed he had some sort of welder with two wires that ran off of it. He was attaching two wires to a bundle of wires that ran across the tree next to our table. After a closer inspection, I noticed that these wires provided electricity to the farm house but two of them had bare spots on them and that is where he attached his wires from his welder. In the video below, you will notice the man explaining how they use the wires for electricity that I'm referring to, along with some of the Cuban workers who were helping to restore the restaurant's tin roof.
After a few days, I noticed this use of wiring was very common. In some houses, they didn't have a typical light switch, they would just disconnect the wire and reconnect it when they wanted the light back on. I had to remember not to go reaching for light switches in the dark.
Feeling full and in need of a nap, we loaded back up in the car and continued our journey. I don't think I saw more than 20 cars our entire drive down the highway. The only one that stood out was a BMW that flew by us doing well over 100 miles per hour. "Maybe it was Jay Z and Beyonce!" I thought later.
The roads are so void of cars that some farmers spread rice out on the highways for it to dry before they package it I was told later that day. As we got closer to the coast, the drive reminded me of driving on US1 or Card Sound Road to the Florida Keys. I decided that I would stop at the next open area of beach, take some pictures and take in the scenery. We came upon an area called "Los Trailers," - yep, exactly like it sounds. It was a small area with maybe 15 houses on it and a couple of old trailers.There was a small cove here that had a little beach area. The view was beautiful. The water was a few different shades of turquoise. The water on one side of the cove was a darker blue and was lightly splashing against dark coral rock and mangroves. There were a variety of trees with their leaves having many different shades of green. There were some trees with green leaves, but were speckled with red leaves which the contrast made the scenery even more stunning. On the beach area, the sand was light grey and the water was crystal clear. I looked out across the water and it was deserted except for a lone sailboat barely visible in the horizon. There were hardly any waves to speak of, the water was so tranquil, it was mesmerizing. I quickly grabbed my fishing gear and made my way to the beach. I felt like I did as a kid when the family was going to the beach. That excitement you feel in the pit of your stomach, I couldn't walk there quickly enough.
To say that I love fishing would be an understatement. My wife knew this when she met me and she will be happy to tell you of all the times during our marriage that I "let her" catch more fish than me. We even went fishing on our honeymoon. As I tied the jig to my fishing rod, I looked up and noticed my son was already about 60 yards out and Loli, in jeans and a shirt, was frolicking in the water with the smile and enthusiasm of a 6-year old kid. I grabbed the fishing rod and made my way out to where my son was. It was still very shallow considering how far out we were, but I could tell that another 20 yards in either direction and it would be over our heads. The sand gave way to grass, which was great for fishing, but not so much for swimming. Further to our left, where the water was deeper and there was no beach, I saw a fish jump out of the water. I only made about 3 or 4 casts before my son asked for the fishing rod. I handed it to him and laid back in the water and took it all in again. Normally, I wouldn't give my fishing rod to anyone, but the beauty of this place was more important to me. I wanted to enjoy this in a way that I would never forget it. I wanted it permanently imprinted in my memory so I could recall it in moments of stress or insomnia. I took a few steps back and watched my son fishing, Loli playing in the water like a child, Enrique laughing at Loli and my soul was full. This is what life is about. Moments like this when, unexpectedly, beauty in all of its forms smiles upon your soul. The sound of laughter, the sound of the water, the clicking of the fishing reel, birds singing, the smiles on all of our faces. It was as if God made this moment just for me. I wanted to stay in this place forever, but we had to get going. I had so much family to meet this day and I couldn't wait to see their faces. As I got back into the car with the smile of a child at an all you can eat ice cream buffet, I said a little thank you to God as I drove away.
