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…