Cuba Chronicles, Chapter Two
November 22, 2005 at 6:31 am | In Trip Report | 1 Comment
SHAVING THE YAK
Casa Particular, Vedado District, Sunday August 28th, 2005
I woke up sunday morning after a comfortable night’s sleep, despite the heat. The friendly but distant casa owner prepared me a decent breakfast, and then I spent the better part of the scorching day walking a few miles up and down the deserted, beautiful Malecon. I also assembled my bike and took it around the block, making sure everything was solid.
It was a good idea to get here on the weekend, giving myself a day to familiarize myself with the city and get my bearings. Most of the city is easily walkable from where I was staying (Vedado): Habana Vieja, the Port, etc. The only part of the city I didn’t explore in detail was Miramar, which, if you live in Montreal, can be compared to the West Island; suburban, many foreigners and rich families, more expensive. That alone made me prefer the inner city streets of Vieja and Barrio Chino, which were more of an artsy “Plateau” type of attitude.
On the way back, I stopped at a paladar for a well-deserved drink. Bottled water was $1.50 CUC; a bottle of beer was $1.00 CUC. Guess what I drank for 2 months?
Back at the casa, I spent the rest of evening going over some papers for work, sitting on the balcony, until the sun went down in front of me in a red-and-purple sky. I could definitely get used to this.
Havana, Monday August 29th, 2005, 1pm
I met up with the doctors from the Escuela Latinoamericana de Medicina (ELAM) that I was working with this morning, and had some great conversations about what kind of participation they’d like to have in our project. This led to a fair amount of “Yak Shaving” - “Sure, we’re totally interested in participating in this online community project of yours! First, we’ll need computers and an internet connection” - but it was still way more productive than similar meetings I’ve had in North America, or - gasp! - Europe. People are excited and motivated when you come to them with new ideas, and they actually take the initiative and make sure that they’re doing their part to make the project work. Despite the excessive paperwork and bureaucracy involved in getting the ball rolling, Cubans make things happen.
Afterwards, I went to the University of Havana, and biked around much of Havana, including the awe-inspiring Col√≥n cemetery. The whole jintero / jintera phenomenon (hustlers, prostitution, etc.) really didn’t stand out to me as much as others said it does. Now, that might have something to do with my dark skin and attitude, but I still don’t quite pass for a local. My bicycle is much flashier than I’d like, and while I didn’t bring any fancy clothes with me, I’m still dressed slightly different than the average Cubano. I get a lot of looks - but Cubans are the type to stare at everyone who walks by. It’s not a bad thing or a good one - it’s just the way it is. (Some Cuban men also feel the need to holler at every girl that walks by, and again, it’s only out of courtesy - most of them don’t expect a response, but they feel that if they don’t acknowledge her, she’ll feel upset. So they’re only doing her a favor, really…)
Havana, Capitolio, Tuesday August 30th, 2005, 12pm
Sitting in the internet cafe in the capitolio - probably the fastest connection I’ve had in all of Cuba - checking my mail and various other things I need to catch up on. I walked another big chunk of Havana Vieja and surroundings today - Zapata, Avenida de Los Presidentes, and pretty much all of Barrio Chino. On foot, I got approached more often by Cubans, whether hustlers or not. After making it clear that I had no money on me, most of them were still just as happy to sit and chat.
I decided that I’m going to leave Havana on Thursday, find a place to stay in Matanzas for a few days, then continue on eastward.
Cuba Chronicles, Chapter One
November 21, 2005 at 6:21 am | In Trip Report | 1 Comment
GENESIS
Sitting in the lobby at Pierre-Elliott Trudeau Intl., August 27th, 2005, 5:45 PM.
Well, this trip is off to a great start - the Cubana Aviacion flight’s been delayed 2 hours until 8pm. Which means that I won’t be in Havana until midnight. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem, but the fact that I’ve got 60kg of equipment with me means that I won’t be taking the bus to the city, and will have to settle for a $20 CUC Taxi. I’d been planning this bicycle trip for a long time - nearly a year, to be precise. It was originally supposed to be a purely personal trip - a sabbatical, if you will. However, as the departure date was nearing, it turned out that one of the projects I had been working on for a while had taken on some Cuban members, and I could get a chance to work with them for a few days before starting my bicycle trip across the island. So the plan was 5 days of “work” in Havana, and then 6 weeks of bicycle travel as far east as I wanted to go, then backtracking to Havana, and maybe heading out west to Pinar Del Rio and Vinales, time permitting.
On board Cubana Flight 170 to Havana, August 27th, 2005, 11:30 PM.
Approaching Jose Marti Intl. airport, it’s immediately clear - even from the plane - how radically different Cuba is from any other place on Earth. While Montreal from the sky was lit up with street lights, skyscrapers, and car headlights, much of Havana is shrouded in darkness. Looking up at the starry sky and looking down at the city are in fact not very different - both give the impression of a backlit canopy with holes punched through it. Which is to say, peaceful and beautiful.
As the aircraft’s landing gear deploys - and its metal parts start clanging - I down my Crystal Cerveza and a flurry of thoughts that I had managed to subconsciously avoid so far start coming to mind:
- What the hell am I - a Canadian / Iraqi-Assyrian (CIA?) - going to do in Cuba for 2 months?
- I’ve never biked this far before, not even at home, and especially not for weeks at a time. What if my bike breaks down in between cities? What if I get injured?
- Did I bring enough money? What about credit cards? What if I get robbed?
- What am I going to do with my Powerbook? Carry it in my backpack through 35+ celsius degrees heat in direct sunlight while biking for hours at a time?
These questions plague me for about 30 more seconds, and then my cooler side bitch-slaps my nervous side and convinces me to relax. I’ll do whatever I want in Cuba - I have no other agenda than to learn, and have fun. If the bike breaks, it breaks. Cuba’s got a fantastic inter-city bus system. I won’t get robbed - I’m a bearded, heavily tattooed, dark-skinned muscular guy wearing ragged clothes. I’ve got enough money, and my powerbook will have to put up with the heat or STFU and die. ’nuff said.
Sorry to bore you, but the landing, disembarkation, customs and taxi ride to my casa were all woefully uneventful. I exited the air-conditioned plane into a scorcher of a Havana night, with the recent rainfall still hanging in the air. I changed some money to about $100 CUC, then I walked through the “nothing to declare” portal with my huge bicycle crate on the wagon - which could’ve contained many non-bicycle related items - with not so much as a second glance. The predicted $20 taxi to the Vedado district was fine as well, but was also a rude awakening to the fact that my spanish is nowhere near as good as I thought it was.
When I got to the casa, the popular owner - known as the “casa mafia” in Havana - told me that he had no space for me, even though I had reserved a full month in advance. He sent me downstairs to a neighbor’s home, which was dilapidated but spotless. It wasn’t worth anything near the $30 he was charging me, though. I’ll stay here for 5 days, then likely leave Havana early and make up for the lost time on the way back.
