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.