Fidel Castro is old. I know this because he was on TV last night, dressed in his Team Cuba Olympic jacket. When I tuned in he was handing the interviewer copies of Ronald Reagan, Margaret Thatcher, and Alan Greenspan’s biographies. He then proceeded to read exerpts from each book in Spanish. He’s still charismatic and you immediately recognize him as an intelligent and powerful man but there is a certain degree of force and energy that he lacks. I have watched footage of speeches Fidel has given and even if I didn’t understand them, they could bring me to tears. He was an incredible orator with his over-rolled “r’s” and his strong voice. But now he’s 80 and that strength has decrescendoed. Nonetheless it was incredible to see him and he seemed to be looking not unhealthy, just old.
Today we went to Las Terrazas, an ecological biosphere about 90 minutes west of Habana. Before the Revolution the entire area had fallen victim to massive deforestation in order to make room for coffee plantations and build railroads. After the success of the insurrection in 1959 the area along with 5 others were given priority to reforest and create a sustainable habitat for plants and wildlife. The town is called Las Terrazas because the farmers during the reforestation used a terrace system so the mountains would be accessible and in order to prevent erosion.
Of course the place was beautiful. Lush, looming mountains with streams and lakes, but really the highlights of the whole trip were the strange little incidents that took place throughout the day.
First of all, when we travel as a group we usually split up into two vans but today as we waited out on the porch our own personal city bus came lumbering down the street. We all piled in, awed by the monstrosity and barely filled half of the seats.
Once we had been on the road for about 45 minutes we stopped because there were some men selling cheese, guava jelly, and entire cooked chickens along side the road. I guess our bus driver was hungry because suddenly the men were in the bus and our bus driver was negotiating prices with the guys while one of them was running into the brush and coming back with more cheese. We couldn’t figure out where this cheese was coming from, all we knew is that it was in the bushes somewhere. In the end we ended up buying about 9 pounds of cheese and 3 pounds of guava jelly, which we all enjoyed immensely. Oh, we also bought a cooked chicken because it looked like a little naked person and we all found that amusing.
Once we got to Las Terrazas we…well, we looked at the terrace system and chased chickens for a while. Then we went to one of the only vegetarian restaurants in Cuba. All the food was amazing and already I forsee it being the best meal during my time here. We had a cold pumpkin soup, delicious varieties of hummus and bread, eggs and beans, things that I can’t really describe, and ICECREAM WITH HONEY. Even better though, is that the owner said we could Email him and he would send us the recipes to everything in Spanish as long as we would translate them to English for him!
After lunch we drove to a natural bath. The road down was narrow and bumpy and our driver doubted whether our not our city bus would fit, yet decided to try anyway. I’ve learned that in Cuba it’s always right to go against your better judgement. So off we went, bumping down this narrow unpaved road with branches coming through the windows and hitting us in the face. We stopped momentarily but no one could see what was going on until a 15 -year old kid brandishing a rifle boarded the bus. Apparently we were giving him a ride and he made a big show of disassembling his rifle in the middle of the bus. We made it to the bath but not before meeting another bus going the opposite direction. How we got past each other I’ll never really know, but we did it. The moment we got to the bath the sun slipped behind the clouds and a swarm of mosquitos and weird flies that draw blood settled right over the water. I abstained from getting in so instead got eaten alive.
Finally we set off for home. A trip that took longer going than coming because we kept picking people up along side the road and then dropping them off. At one point the bus couldn’t make it up the hill so we had to all get out and walk up the hill until the bus chugged its way up to meet us. Oh, there was also this weird tiny island in the middle of a lily pond with 5 monkeys on it, and there are NO monkeys in Cuba so they were shipped from somewhere. And also, I sat on a bunch of fire ants and now my butt hurts.

My dear sister has tagged me, therefore this must be done. I’m too tired to write about Cuba right now anyway.

-Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, find line 4 and write what it says. - -
“advinir guess; de advino “

-Stretch your left arm out as far as you can. What can you touch?
- - Air, cold air-conditioned air.
-What is the last thing you watched on TV?
- -Jaws (IN ENGLISH!) three weeks ago in Santiago de Cuba. I think the hotel was stealing the channel from Miami.
-Without looking, guess what time it is.
- - 2:35 (2:18)
-With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
--A big fountain in the hotel lobby, a phone ringing, Krystle cursing under her breath, people speaking Spanish, clinking of glasses, someone getting cat called.
-When did you last step outside? What were you doing?
- - 45 minutes ago in order to walk from my house to the hotel so I could use the internet. It was really hot out.
-Before you started this survey, what did you look at?
--My dear sister’s blog.
-Did you dream last night?
-- Yes, but I only remember parts. Babs was in it and some old famous lady was in it too…I don’t think she was that old though. I was showing her Babs’ dorm room and then we were going to get some Bucanero (Cuban beer) at this place by my house.

-When did you last laugh?
- -Probably earlier this morning when Aidan and I ate our friend’s guacamole and decided to tell her that everyone ate it last night when they were drunk. We’re evil, we’ll buy her another avocado tomorrow.
-What is on the walls of the room you are in?
- -Not much. But at the residence they’ve been sprucing things up and hanging up all these really cheesy prints of floral paintings and strange clocks. They also hung up this huge lace curtain over the wall in the restaurant and its very sweet because you understand the look they’re going for but everything is just really tacky.
-Seen anything weird lately?
- -Last night we tried to go to this Salsa club but ended up in the wrong place (the one we wanted was downstairs). We asked if there would be live music since we had already paid and the man said, yes there would be in 30 minutes. So we waited and then one guy game on stage and sang love ballads to pre-recorded synthesized accompaniment until he accidentally forgot to sing and everyone realized he was lip-synching. That was weird.
-What do You think of this Meme?
--I don’t know what a Meme is, but I like it?
-What is the last film you saw?
--The Marriage of Romeo and Juliette. It’s Brazilian. The Chaplin theater here has different film festivals every week and this week it was Brazilian film so we went last night (before the super cool club). It was about Brazil, futbol, rival teams, and loooooove. Basically it was a really hilarious Brazilian romantic comedy.
-If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy?
- - At this moment I would probably buy wireless internet for the entirety of Cuba. But if you ask me tomorrow it might be different.

-Tell me something about you that I don’t know?
-- I’m biting my lip right now.
-If you could change one thing about the world, what would you do?
-- Make people more understanding, patient, introspective, and caring. Or allow mothers to run the world, or at least make all the important decisions that will effect people.
-Comment to President Bush.
-- I don’t have anything I really want to say to him. I would want to say something to him that would get a genuine reaction from him instead of a rehearsed response. But I don’t know what that would be.

-Would you ever consider living abroad?
-- I would never consider not living abroad.
-What do you want to say to God when you get to heaven?
- - If we’re talking about the standard Christian heaven and God, I’d probably just laugh nervously and say, “whoops…are there croquettas here?”

The funny (maybe its just sad) thing about Cuba is that there is absolutely no news. There’s a national newspaper called Granma, but it’s more like a 7-page daily newsletter than anything else. Everyone has been writing me, asking me about the hurricane, but in all honesty the concerned Emails I got were the first time I even heard about the possibility of a hurricane hitting Cuba. Suddenly, the day of rain and the surprisingly cold evening that caused me to actually SHIVER and wear pants made sense. News is so scarce here that on Sunday, Aidan, Krystle, and I found ourselves practically drooling over nytimes.com even though all we could read were the headlines. Cuba certainly doesn’t let you take anything for granted.
Three friends and myself were in the heart of Habana Vieja, a considerable walk from Vedado, during the day-long rainstorm and we found shelter in the oldest brewery in Habana. It’s a gorgeous building with huge open windows, a large courtyard, and enormous copper vats where they hold three different types of beer, clara, obscura, or negra. Besides ordering beer by the glass you could get something called, “El Metro,” a meter long, 4 inch wide tube with a tap, filled with your choice of beer. Needless to say, we ordered two while we waited for the rain to stop, exchanging stories from home and sucking on olives. When the rain finally let up we paid 5 CUC each and ran to find a cab. We arrived back to the residence just in time for dinner and concluded a perfect afternoon with an hour long, slightly intoxicated nap.
Today I went to a meeting for my Cuban film class. There are only three of us taking the class which should make for an interesting and what I hope will be, good experience. The film class is provided through the Fundación de Nuevo Cine Latinoamericano and the president of the foundation is Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Upon learning this I was thrilled (he’s my favorite author) and I was able to stand in the exact place he stood at the top of the stairs based on photographs they had on the walls. Our professor is on vacation so we didn’t start class today but the director of the program told us about the class and almost more importantly, the house where it takes place. I have found myself in a number of mansions since being here, but this house was absolutely breathtaking. Spacious rooms, courtyards, a chapel, ornate chandeliers, a curved dark wood staircase, and strange erotic images carved into the moldings and light fixtures. Everything was worm and comfortable but so exquisite. Apparently, the former owner was a friend of all artists and Garcia L’Orca stayed in the house during his time in Cuba along with other famous poets, writers, painters, musicians, etc. While I’m excited for the class, part of me is just thrilled to get to return every week. The director said we had free roam of the home and could visit whenever we wanted whether it is to watch films from their collection, do homework, rifle through their film journals, or just have someone to talk to.
One thing I’ve been forgetting to mention but was just reminded of is the incredible hospitality you receive wherever you go in Cuba. Never have we visited a place where we haven’t been given coffee and cookies, or ice cream, or cake, or some kind of food. When we asked why this was, we got the response, “In Cuba, we never want anyone to not have enough. It’s important we greet our guests kindly and provide for them. It’s just what Cubans do.” I think this has had a great effect on me during my time here. It’s strange to be a person from a country that has so much in a country that has so little. It’s even stranger when you’re finding more things being given to you than you feel you are able to give back. Early during our time here we were taught to say to people asking for money, “No tengo nada” or “I don’t have anything” but how are we as Americans supposed to look a Cuban in the eye and say that? Some of my friends tell me its stupid to give someone 25 centavos when they ask, but really, who needs it more?
Being here has been a humanizing experience, I don’t know another word for it. It’s made me realize the priviledges I have as an American citizen, not just in the US but abroad as well. I’m beginning to realize the power structure in Cuba and maybe not just in Cuba, but the entire world and how skewed it is. There’s more to say about this, there are books upon books to say about this but it requires more thought. What I can say now though, is that so far this has been an eye opening and humbling experience for me.
Something I find strange, is that some people on the trip are experiencing the exact opposite. The ability to get things for cheaper, has made some people cheaper as well. Suddenly a $2 taxi ride across Habana is robbery and tipping a waiter is an outrageous request. I’m not exactly sure what this is rooted in, but it makes me uncomfortable. It’s like some of the girls feel that they are superior. Like for some reason because we’re in an underdeveloped country, the people don’t deserve as much, or maybe it’s not deserve, but they just shouldn’t EXPECT as much. Does this make sense? History often speaks for itself and our history as Americans does not act in our favor. While I try to deny certain things, I can’t help but wonder where this sentiment comes from. I guess I have to think about it more. Maybe even talk about it, because it leaves me feeling uneasy. I feel like I have a sense of when I’m being taken advantage of and most of the time I don’t necessarily feel like I am, but some of the girls here are convinced I’m an idiot for leaving a tip or agreeing to pay an extra CUC for the cab. I’m just doing what feels right to me…

I had my first political economics class this week. There are 5 of us taking the class and we got incredibly lost and confused while trying to find the classroom because it apparently changed but the woman who’s supposed to know wasn’t aware of it. In the end, we were racing around the building with two 80-year-old women who usually sit outside the bathroom and collect small tips from people who go in until we finally found the right class. The women were wonderful and when we got out of class they asked us how it was and if we enjoyed it and said if we needed any help at all they’d be by the bathroom. If anything, I’ve found Cuban people to be really kind and helpful. If you look lost in the street someone will yell, “Hey! What are you looking for?” And you can tell them and they’ll give you directions although sometimes they’re a bit cryptic and you’re still as lost as you were before. It’s the thought that counts though I suppose.
Anyway, the class was interesting. There are probably about 40 students in it and the professor is this super young guy. When he said that he expected everyone to raise their hands and not just shout out whatever they were thinking, there was nearly a riot in the classroom. Then whenever he said something people didn’t agree with or asked questions like, “In our society, is there a hierarchy?” There was, once again, a near riot as everyone started screaming at the same time and jumping from their chairs. It’s certainly a different experience. The students are passionate and well versed but it was unlike any classroom experience I had ever had. Whoever yelled loudest was the one who got to speak and when the teacher tried to quiet them they just got louder. At the end of the first class the professor made an announcement that there were 5 students in the class from England (us) and asked us if we knew about William Penn and could we explain his theories on the value of a product. We were too timid to say that we were in fact from the United States and also confused because the only William Penn we knew founded Pennsylvania and we didn’t know if he had a lot of theories about the value of a product. I suppose we didn’t make the best first impression, but we resolved to tell him next week that we’re not from England…so that’s something? Oh also, apparently there’s no such thing as homework in Cuba, everyone is sitting around the house confused trying to make up things to do. It’s a little uncomfortable believe it or not…
Also I’ve started going running with Aidan. We’re going every other day. We run down to the Malecón at dusk so we can watch the sunset as we run along the ocean. It’s beautiful. There are not too many people out and the people who are usually are somewhat sedated by dinner so no one yells at us too much. Yesterday a guy started running with us but we told him we were running too far for him to keep up. He found that amusing enough to stop and yell, “fuck you.”
After class this morning we went to the main cemetery in Habana. There are 2 million people buried there, the same number as are living in Habana. It was amazing. All the graves were above ground in marble coffins and people had incredible sculptures (gruesome images of Jesus carrying a cross and bleeding all over) and ornate family mausoleums (one with hundreds of dead cockroaches all over the floor). Some of the people dated back to the early 1800’s. A few of the graves were unconvered and you could see down into them, which was terrifying but the completely open ones were unoccupied. One though, looked like someone had moved the lid back and when Aidan and I crept up to look inside she said, “Oh my God, it smells like this rotting sea lion I saw on the beach once.” So we decided to not go any closer. There was also a gorgeous cathedral with a little old lady manning the door. She told us about the power of Christ and so on and then invited us in. It was strange because it was a stunning building with huge stained glass windows and a huge mural but in the middle of the cathedral all these bags of sawdust were piled up and all sorts of construction material were strewn about and all the benches were pushed to the side. When we asked the woman about it she shrugged her shoulders and pointed at the donation box. Only in Cuba.
I think I’ll take the time here to say (sorry dad) that while in Cuba something inside me has the desire to attend mass. I don’t want to join the Catholic Church, but there’s something about attending mass in Cuba that really strikes me. One of the girls here is Catholic and our friend who works at the residence is Catholic as well and said he’d take us. Aidan is in as well, so hopefully we’ll do that within the next few weeks.
What more what more? There was a mausoleum for the few Cuban-Japanese (there weren’t enough to actually fill the entire mausoleum) which was kind of cool. I couldn’t go inside so I didn’t have a chance to look for any Nakamuras but I bet Aidan that there was at least one in there.

I’m sitting out on the veranda watching lightening flash in four different places in the sky. It’s incredible. The humidity has closed in and I’m guessing that in about ten minutes the afternoon rainstorm will happen. Everything is bright against an ominous gray sky and huge thunderhead clouds illuminate with each flash of light. Guava and diesel is the smell of Cuba, with an occasional waft of fried foods, mangoes, or something rotting in the hot heat.
Next door, in a gorgeous dilapidated mansion with an outdoor spiral staircase going all the way up to the roof. Our neighbors are listening to Celia Cruz and enjoying the lightning on the downstairs porch. Their house is a dingy gray and the yard is overgrown with tropical plants. Vines crawl up the pillars that hold the veranda and laundry lines run to and fro. Our neighbor, an elderly woman sits on the porch in curlers and smokes cigarettes, occasionally singing along. Her son lives with her too and sometimes he sits with her but usually he’s out an about. It’s wonderful coming home everyday and passing her, yelling, “buen día señora” over the fence and the shrubbery and she smiles and waves a little as music pours out of her house. It’s usually these moments when I think, “Jesus, I’m in Cuba.”
We’ve been having issues with men stopping by whenever they want or calling obsessively. This is mainly due to the fact that I live with a few girls who decide to give out our number and address to any random person they meet in the street. Already I’ve been yelled at by 3 different guys when I have to go out to the gate and say, “No, sorry, so-and-so can’t see you right now. She’s out.” Luckily, the people who work at the residence are wonderful and help us shoo people away either at the gate or on the phone. One woman in particular, Yowanka is incredible. When she found out that one of the girls here was groped at the fruit market down the street she was about ready to march down to the market and “Rompe sus cajones” or break his balls. Instead she taught us a string of curse words and yell but I don’t think any of us have them down. It’s funny because the hardest part about communicating here is not knowing the right way to say something politely or the right/forceful way to get someone to leave you alone. One of the guys who works at the residence has an American girlfriend who doesn’t speak Spanish and he said that the only time there is a language barrier is when they fight.
My first class begins on Tuesday. I’m nervous. I’m afraid it will be way over my head and Shanti said that the political economics classes at the university are really hit or miss. I hope it’s a hit. We’ll learn about Marxism and Neoliberalism, the effects of Capitalism in Latin America, and why Keynesian economics is evil. I can’t wait. I feel like this is a really important class for me to take here if I want to further my understanding of Cuba and what its striving for and what the reality is.
Once I have class I’ll write more. Now I don’t have too much to say. I’ve been very preoccupied lately, thinking a lot about my new niece and all the people I love. I remember the first time I ever held my nephew I was overcome with emotion and love and now just seeing her photos I am filled with the same feelings. It’s hard to feel like you’re so far away when something so exciting is happening, and while I’m absolutely in love with Cuba, I also can’t wait to get back home.