Our Life in Cuba

Cuba is relentlessly surprising and confusing. This whole week has been a strange string of events. On Tuesday, our friend Geovanis took us to a rally for the Isreali/Palestinian conflict. It was really interesting to get a look at Cuba’s stance in the conflict and hear what they said about the United States. It took place on the steps of Havana University so there were a lot of students, but there were people of all different ages and backgrounds. There was also a very noticeable row of soldiers all dutifully holding Cuban flags. People made speeches, performed songs, and made other presentations. It was really great to be able to see a political rally while here in Cuba to see how they are responding to world affairs. It was interesting, however, that the atmosphere was more pro-Cuba than really reacting to the events.
The next almost surreal event was on Thursday night when we went out with half the national water polo team. The whole night as we walked around surrounded by seven incredibly beautiful, stylish, tall guys with amazing bodies, I felt like I was most certainly in another dimension. There was no way that I was standing six inches away from and talking to a man who looks like an even more handsome version of Taye Diggs. Just no way. But somehow it was true and the best part is that these gorgeous men are actually nice, making it seem more unreal but more enjoyable. So now we’re friends with the water polo team. Well, yeah, they're pretty much our boyfriends, I'm not sure it's possible for single Cuban men to be just friends with foreign single women. From the beginning of the night it was like the guys chose which girl they wanted and then pursued her. We all ended up having a good time and could not surpress our glee when they agreed to a photoshoot...we all wanted proof that we weren't actually dreaming.
The next day we were supposed to go out with our other group of friends when something really sketchy happened. We were all talking outside of our building, planning where to go when a group of about ten unknown men walked up to the guys we were with. They asked them some questions and then our friends left around the corner saying wait a minute and disappeared. They never came back. All of us were pretty angry because we had just been ditched and had no idea what was going on. We thought maybe it was going to be a fight or maybe a drug deal or something else really sketchy. We convinced ourselves that in Cuba we are not going to be able to trust anyone if we had thought these guys were trustworthy and then they did something awful like just leave us. In the morning, I went to talk to them and got the explanation. Apparently, the unknown guys were police. They had come up to our friends for some reason, it could be a number of things but because Cuba is so complicated it is hard to pinpoint exactly. They said that it was because they are black, which is most likely at least partly true. I also think that part of it is because the police get suspicious of Cubans being with foreigners, but either way they were taken to jail where they had to stay the night and then were let go in the morning. I could not believe that something like that would be possible but apparently in Cuba almost anything is possible. We had another encounter with the police when we were hanging out with the water polo guys and the police asked the two black guys for their IDs, but didn’t ask the white Cuban for his. They said it happens a lot in Cuba and they never usually have problems because they are on the national team. It’s crazy that there can be that kind of racism and profiling. I still do not completely understand the situation. I have a feeling I never will.

Hip Hop Night at Barbaran

It’s hip hop night at Barbaran and it is hoppin’. For one CUC you can watch a lively hip hop show that gets everyone singing and jumping. The club was packed with hip hop fans and we were among them. The club is owned by the Cuban hip hop group Los Aldeanos. By owning the building, they are able to perform, otherwise they would be censored by the government. Some of the guest artists had been busted several times in the past for being too political in their lyrics. I couldn’t understand everything the singers were saying, but I could tell that their ideas are radical, moving and by the reactions of the audience, they are speaking for a large crowd. It is interesting to hear them and see this part of the culture that has grown so much over the years despite the government trying to stop it. Hip hop in Cuba has become one of the favorite genres of music and almost everyone has heard of and likes the artists. We even got to meet most of the artists because even though they are famous all over Cuba and internationally in some cases, they are very close to their fans and mingle with everyone after performing. It was great to meet them and be a part of that night and hopefully we will go back again.

Santeria Tambor

Yesterday the group piled (literally) into a van taxi and headed across Havana to the house of Profe's madrina in Cayo Hueso. It was here that we attended our first Santeria tambor. As soon as we disentangled ourselves and stepped onto the muddy cracked streets, we could hear the pulsing beats of the drums coming from the house. We were greeted with cheek kisses and welcomed into the home. We entered into a large living room with tile floors and high ceilings, a couple rocking chairs, a painting of Jesus hanging on the wall, and a large alter for the Orisha Yemaya. The tambor, which is a Santeria ritual in honor of an orisha , sometimes used as an initiation, was for our Professor who was recieving his maternal orisha, Yemaya. Orishas can be related to the Christian saints and each represent an aspect of life or earth. They are seen as a type of guardian angel in the Santeria faith.Yemaya is seen as the mother of all things and the goddess of the ocean. Her alter was decorated with the colors blue and white and an assortment of images and items associated with the ocean.
There were quite a few santeros that had dropped by for the tambor. There were three drummers lined up on one side of the room playing drums unlike any drums I had seen before. They were large and natural, each decorated for the event. They were very powerful and are considered sacred and treated like human beings. Their deep sounds combined with the Yoruba chants provided the beat of the afternoon, the heartbeat of the faith in the santeros, the rhythm to the dance, and the soundtrack to spiritual possession.  I had a moment when I just could not believe that I was there, experiencing the possession of one of the santeros by the orisha Yemaya, and witnessing this religious ritual that is uniquely Cuban or Afrocuban, depending on how you look at it. It was unlike anything I had experienced and therefore I will never forget it. Although we were outsiders and got strange looks as we stood along the wall and watched the ceremony instead of participating, it felt like an awkward rite of passage into our new Cuban life.

Malecon and Dancing

We just had our first weekend of the trip and I can easily say we all enjoyed the three days off from classes. After the amazing day at the beach on Friday, we had a more relaxing day on Saturday. We hopped aboard the crowded P-5 bus to La Habana Vieja, and watched the sights go by through the tangle of heads, arms, and curious stares. We passed by the dusty streets full of homeless dogs and hanging laundry, and people chatting with their neighbors; past a myriad Cuban flags, political grafitti and rusty bicycles. When we finally arrived at La Habana Vieja, we walked around the lazy but busy streets and had a nice lunch at our favorite place there, El Jardin del Cafe Oriente. It is a small place with tasty food and the country's (and our) favorite beer for reasonable prices. We ate under the shade of umbrellas and with the company of some mangly inbred cats that numbered more than the actual customers.
We meandered through the market, checking out the trinkets, souvenirs, and fine arts, the vendedors throwing us selling points or a simple hola as we passed by. I couldn't help myself from purchasing some colorful handmade jewelry. Half of the market was dedicated to fine art and it was incredible. There was row after row of paintings, all with different themes and techniques. With each row I was more and more impressed by the various styles, the colors, and the pure talent of the artists. I know I will not be able to stop myself from bringing one home for me to remember the spirit of the island.
After a nice day, we got ready to go out with Geovanis to a dance club, and hopefully would have some more luck than the previous times. He ended up bringing his friend Jose and four of us went with them. We went to a small place that had a salsa show and then dancing afterwards. The music was great, the club got full and everyone was dancing and having a good time. It was so much fun to be with Cuban (who are great dancers) having a great time, laughing and enjoying the night.
On Sunday we spent the whole day lazing on the Malecon, the favorite passtime of most Cubans. It's free, it's relaxing, and you always meet someone. We read our books, did some homework, and chatted underneath the beautiful Caribbean sun. We saw Geovanis and Jose and we met some of their friends and all started talking. It is so interesting to talk with the Cubans and see their side of things. A common topic is that of Obama and we have found that many people are hopeful for Obama and like his ideas. They are also interested in seeing how his proposed plans will pan out. Sitting on the Malecon has since become my favorite thing to do in my freetime because it is so relaxing and interesting, even if you are just people watching. Everytime I sit there, I marvel at the fact that I am in Cuba, and I will be for what will hopefully be a long three months.

Beach and Water Polo Babes

Today we had the day off from classes and it was a beautiful day so we decided to make the trip to the beach. Most of us could not be more excited to soak up the sun and feel the sand in our toes after too many cold winter days. We headed to Santa Maria beach, a 1/2 hour taxi ride away. It was beautiful. Teal water, big waves, sun, and sand. We laid out, walked along the beach, and enjoyed the warmth. For such a beautiful beach there were not many people and no big buildings like there inevitably would be at such a beach in the States.
After enjoying the beach thoroughly, we were about to head back when we got some beach neighbors that were hard to ignore: three beautiful men. In Speedos. Speedos always seem to belong to bodies that should be forbidden from wearing such little clothing, in this case, it looked like Speedos were made for them.
Like little girls, we had all kind of lined up and were very obviously staring at them, despite our attempts to be subtle. The bravest in our group went up to them and asked to have a photo with them which they obliged to and we all started talking. They ended up being really nice guys. And did I mention they were amazingly attractive? Just to give you somewhat of an idea, one looked like Cristiano Ronaldo and the others like Tyson Bedford. They were members of the national water polo team and are studying in Habana. Yeah, we got their numbers.

We waited 3 hours for...a flute battle?

The other night, Profe had told us that there was a salsa band playing at this club, so we decided to check it out since it was supposed to be one of the top 3 salsa bands in the country. Sounds promising. Remind us not to listen to him again. We got there after the band was supposed to have started and most of the tables were empty and the band wasn't there. So we sat to wait for them, being told that they would be on soon but that it wasn't the whole band.
As we waited, more people slowly trickled in, young Cubans, older Cubans, and then old creepy foreign guys. This was when I got my first look at jineterismo, which seemed to me more like blatant prostitution. There was this especially creepy creeper with an apple shirt and a pedophile smile who stared at us and the other cubanas. It was disgusting. To make it worse, he almost got a girl. The others at the club danced, or more like had sexual encounters with clothes on. Kind of awkward to see a woman literally take her pants off and lapdance her boyfriend in the middle of a club. With your professor and his wife sitting at the next table. Our table just sat there awkwardly looking around us and not knowing exactly what to do.
After three hours of waiting, the band came. After all the waiting and awkwardness we really wanted a good show...but what we got instead was dueling flutes, a talent show, and a rendition of I Will Always Love You, complete with Bodyguard scenes playing in the background. At that point, we left. And then walked up 26 flights of stairs.

Our First Cuban Friend

Today we met Geovanis, a guy who works in the building we live in. He took us for a little scenic tour of the neighborhood. We walked past crumbling houses shaded over by tall leafy trees. It was a little eerie because the architecture was beautiful, the buildings large with grand iron fences, and it was clear that they once belonged to the rich families of Havana. Now their concrete walls have holes and chipped paint, the fences are rusty, and the lawns are overgrown, and more than one family lives within the dying structure. Although it is sad to see all of these beautiful buildings now crumbling with age and a lack of maintenence, they have retained their charm, and probably gained some throughout the years. The contrast between the images I saw in front of me, and the ones I imagined from the time of Batista, was overwhelming. The neighborhood is now home to the memories of yesterday and the realities of today.
We ended up going to a local agricultural market for some watermelon and then turned around and came back to a little paladar next to our residence for some Cuban sandwiches. A paladar is a little restaurant in someone's house and it is usually very cheap. So we got a 50 centavo lunch and enjoyed it with our new friend as we chatted about music and partying, Obama and politics, and Cuba.
Tonight he took us to go out dancing, but we didn't have much luck in finding a club. We ended up walking around in search for a club but finding them either full or completely empty, just walked along the Malecon, stopping in various places to chat or listen to an impromptu music group. We had fun together just enjoying the clear night, the warmth, and the sounds of Habana. Geovanis seemed disappointed that he couldn't find a decent club and be a wonderful host but to all of us, we were completely happy to just be there.
And what better way to finish the night but with a walk up to the 13th floor?

Futbol y ejercios

The hazy fog that set in sometime last night slowly changed to gray clouds throughout the day and in the afternoon, the rain came in. It started as a sunshower, producing rainbows that seemed feet away from our balcony, but it turned into a steady rain. Earlier, when it was just sprinkling, three of us went running along the Malecon. It was the perfect temperature for being outside and the light rain cooled us off while we worked up a sweat. We stopped at a rundown track and futbol field with crumbling stadium seats. There we circled the track alongside fellow runners, older women wearing bright track pants and perfume that followed them in a cloud, a little gymnast training for something, and others keeping in shape. We all were entertained by the casual futbol game in the middle of the track and the boys on the outside playing baseball. As I ran around it all I started to feel a little like a part of their community. We ran back past the fishermen and people hanging out on the Malecon to our apartment where ineveitably the elevator was stuck and we hiked up the neverending staircase to the 13th floor.

First Impressions

It is my second full day in Havana and am already falling in love with this place. From the moment I stepped off the airplane onto the pavement and into the warm tropical air, I felt like I was where I was supposed to be. The transition from -10 degree weather to 75 and sunny was jolting but welcomed. After only a 45 minute plane ride, I was in another world. A world with colorful buildings, old American cars, and a thousand new smells. The airport was about the size of a Logan baggage claim and outside onlooking cubanos awaited family members, greeting them with tears and smiles as they passed through the sliding doors. Beyond the parking lot of the terminal for American arrivals, billboards expressed political statements against the American government. These were the background of our first sights of Havana; the people strolling along the streets, sitting on crumbled walls, stopped on the side of the road fixing a broken-down car. My very first impression of this country was humbling and impressive at the same time.
Our apartment is the penthouse of a skyrise that looks out upon the Malecon (a 7 km boardwalk along the edge of the city where people are always sitting, fishing, talking or getting some lovin'). We watch the magnificent sunsets from our balconies and every minute of the day is perfect weather to take in the views. The food that is served to us and the hospitality of our little family here is amazing as well. We have three people who take care of us: Maria, la abuela, who cleans and cooks, Mileydis, her granddaughter who cooks mouthwatering meals, and Chino, the man of the house who helps a little with everything. They are all great people and help us get adjusted to the ins and outs of the city.
The school is very different to what I expected, and is nothing like I have seen before, although I guess nothing really is. Casa de las Americas functions more as a cultural institute than a school and was founded in the same year as the Revolution. This year therefore is the 50th anniversary and there is a lot going on at Casas. On our tour of the school the first day we got to see some of the creative and interesting events, galleries, and features that are going on. The professors so far seem nice and very knowledgable and our classes are good as well despite my low comprehension rate. The cuban style of speaking is muddled and fast, which makes it difficult to understand most of the time...but I'll get there.
When we haven't been in class, we have gotten to see parts of the city. Yesterday we had a tour of Old Havana which was better than I expected, with the old buildings that are sometimes crumbling but still maintain their magic, the smells of delicious food, and the cubanos that add the flavor. Every block and almost every person has character and charm in one way or another.
I'm excited to see, hear, smell, and taste more of the city.
By the way the people are beautiful, almost all of them, the food is so much better than I expected, and the beer is the best I've ever had-¡Bucanero fuerte para mi!