This weekend we had our final trip of the program. It was our second to last weekend in Cuba and it was hard to leave La Habana because it felt too real. So we arrived in Santiago after an hour and a half plane ride. During this plane ride, there were intervals of condensed air coming out from the floor so that it looked like they had turned on the smoke machine, and at one point the stewardess went down the aisle spraying disinfectant to get rid of toxins, all of this, they said, was completely normal. Well, I have never seen that before in my life so I doubt that it is necessary and, normal? Cuba, when are you ever normal? You have given me a new definition of normal in which there is no normal, everything goes.
Friday we left the hotel early to head to the Church of El Cobre where the Virgen del Cobre is. The road leading up to the famous church was lined with little tables selling little glass and wood souvenirs or offerings of golden flowers for the Virgen. It was a gorgeous white church with red accents, set against the backdrop of the green mountains. From there we had a slight view of the copper mine which was utilized in the beginning of Cuba and is still sometimes used but not to its previous capacity. From the church, we drove to the monument for the cimarrones. We hiked up to find the large, almost disturbing monument. From that point we had an amazing view of the mountains and the mine that was now full of a bright blue lake.
To make the day more exciting, there had to be some Santeria thrown in. We ended up at the house of this man who is an espiritista cruzada which means he is a spiritist of different religions, mostly Afrocuban religions such as Palo Monte, Voodoo, and Santeria. We entered his house into a room painted with various religious images and two altar-type things, one with dead animal heads and the other with shells and things from the sea. The next room contained a life size statue of what looked like Christ on crutches, and a little statue of a cimarrón. In the actual religious room, there was an altar for his Orishas and other gods. There were shelves and shelves of offerings to his gods. Rum, souvenirs, plants, stuffed dead animals, rocks, etc. In his backyard there was a wall of mutilated plastic, Chucky dolls, painted black and the limbs of which were hanging beside them or strewn on the table and ground. I’m assuming this was the voodoo part but I’m not entirely sure. It was crazy to see such an extreme place of these Afrocuban religions. Although I tried not to be weirded out so much and to accept this as part of the Cuban history and culture, it was just too far out for me and I couldn’t get back on that bus quick enough.
Saturday morning we took a two hour drive to Guantanamo. We weren’t sure exactly what the town would be like and we knew that we probably wouldn’t be able to see the base, but we were curious just the same. We stepped off the bus and immediately were the main attraction. Apparently, Gitmo isn’t a hot spot for tourists. We walked around the town, checking out the sights which ended up to be minimal, had lunch, and headed back. When we asked about seeing the base, our guide said that you can’t even get to the look-out anymore. There used to be a lookout from the Cuban base and a hotel in a town down the road from Guantanamo, but after hurricane damage, the road is too dangerous, and after too many Cubans were swimming from there to the U.S. base to be considered on U.S. soil, you now need a pass to even visit family in that town. It was interesting to be there and to say we went there and to see what it is like to be in a town where there is virtually no tourism, but other than that it didn’t live up to our expectations.
That night we had plans to see a typical tumba francesa, a music and dance that came over to Cuba from Haiti and is a mix of French and Eurpean dance with more African instrumentation. The dance took place in a large colorful room just off the dark gray streets of the city. The drums were big and loud and the dancers were dressed in French colonial dressed of all colors. We watched as they put on a show for our group and passers-by who stopped to be taken in by the tangible bass of the drums. The night ended after
a call for the audience to join the party and we all danced, awkwardly, and watched embarrassedly as the professors danced even more awkwardly. But overall it was a good way to spend a Saturday night in Santiago.
The trip back was unfortunately not as fun, as we sat in the Santiago airport for 6 hours waiting for our flight. Thankfully we had Pelly and Planchao to hold us over. When we arrived back home, dinner on the table even though it was 11 o’clock at night, and as we hugged Maria, Mileydis and Chino, we realized how much we love it here. And we only have one week left.
Friday we left the hotel early to head to the Church of El Cobre where the Virgen del Cobre is. The road leading up to the famous church was lined with little tables selling little glass and wood souvenirs or offerings of golden flowers for the Virgen. It was a gorgeous white church with red accents, set against the backdrop of the green mountains. From there we had a slight view of the copper mine which was utilized in the beginning of Cuba and is still sometimes used but not to its previous capacity. From the church, we drove to the monument for the cimarrones. We hiked up to find the large, almost disturbing monument. From that point we had an amazing view of the mountains and the mine that was now full of a bright blue lake.
To make the day more exciting, there had to be some Santeria thrown in. We ended up at the house of this man who is an espiritista cruzada which means he is a spiritist of different religions, mostly Afrocuban religions such as Palo Monte, Voodoo, and Santeria. We entered his house into a room painted with various religious images and two altar-type things, one with dead animal heads and the other with shells and things from the sea. The next room contained a life size statue of what looked like Christ on crutches, and a little statue of a cimarrón. In the actual religious room, there was an altar for his Orishas and other gods. There were shelves and shelves of offerings to his gods. Rum, souvenirs, plants, stuffed dead animals, rocks, etc. In his backyard there was a wall of mutilated plastic, Chucky dolls, painted black and the limbs of which were hanging beside them or strewn on the table and ground. I’m assuming this was the voodoo part but I’m not entirely sure. It was crazy to see such an extreme place of these Afrocuban religions. Although I tried not to be weirded out so much and to accept this as part of the Cuban history and culture, it was just too far out for me and I couldn’t get back on that bus quick enough.
Saturday morning we took a two hour drive to Guantanamo. We weren’t sure exactly what the town would be like and we knew that we probably wouldn’t be able to see the base, but we were curious just the same. We stepped off the bus and immediately were the main attraction. Apparently, Gitmo isn’t a hot spot for tourists. We walked around the town, checking out the sights which ended up to be minimal, had lunch, and headed back. When we asked about seeing the base, our guide said that you can’t even get to the look-out anymore. There used to be a lookout from the Cuban base and a hotel in a town down the road from Guantanamo, but after hurricane damage, the road is too dangerous, and after too many Cubans were swimming from there to the U.S. base to be considered on U.S. soil, you now need a pass to even visit family in that town. It was interesting to be there and to say we went there and to see what it is like to be in a town where there is virtually no tourism, but other than that it didn’t live up to our expectations.
That night we had plans to see a typical tumba francesa, a music and dance that came over to Cuba from Haiti and is a mix of French and Eurpean dance with more African instrumentation. The dance took place in a large colorful room just off the dark gray streets of the city. The drums were big and loud and the dancers were dressed in French colonial dressed of all colors. We watched as they put on a show for our group and passers-by who stopped to be taken in by the tangible bass of the drums. The night ended after
a call for the audience to join the party and we all danced, awkwardly, and watched embarrassedly as the professors danced even more awkwardly. But overall it was a good way to spend a Saturday night in Santiago.
The trip back was unfortunately not as fun, as we sat in the Santiago airport for 6 hours waiting for our flight. Thankfully we had Pelly and Planchao to hold us over. When we arrived back home, dinner on the table even though it was 11 o’clock at night, and as we hugged Maria, Mileydis and Chino, we realized how much we love it here. And we only have one week left.
Hi Whitney
ReplyDeleteJust letting you know that Songlines World Music Magazine has just started running a guided music tour of Cuba.
Everyone meets up in Havana, flies off to Baracoa, then works their way back to Havana taking in all the key cuban music locations including Havana, Trinidad, Santiago de Cuba, Baracoa, Camaguey, Cienfuegos. Your tour guide is Philip Sweeney the author of 'The Rough Guide to Cuban Music', so you can be guaranteed an insiders guide to the musical culture of the country.
If you are interested please go to Songlines Cuban Music Tours (http://songlines.co.uk/musictravel/tours-festivals/music-of-cuba-09.php). The tour covers expenses for travel in Cuba only, so you need to sort out your own flights to Havana and back.
Hope this is of interest to you.
Timjim (for Songlines)
Hi Timjim,
ReplyDeleteThat sounds pretty great and after my musical experiences in Cuba, I would love to be a part of it. Unfortunately I don't have the money for something like this now, but maybe in the future. Thank you for the information and I hope you enjoyed the blog.
Cheers,
Whitney