Three weeks in excile week 1: Chocolate and Salsa - Santiago de Cuba, Cuba
Santiago de Cuba, Cuba
Warning up front, I think these Cuba blogs are going to be very, very long. Cuba, a place I have long wanted to come to for reasons I'm not exactly sure of. The communist island has fascinated me, and iIf I'm honest Fidel himself is probably one of the reasons and the role Cuba have played in the Cold War. It may not be exactly correct to say that I admire him, but there is something to be said about a Country/Dictator that has at least three times in post WW2 directly stood up to the mighty USA and won, all be it with Soviet backing. I think my fascination with the man started all the way back in 1994 when I went to the UN where they love to tell the story about him giving the longest ever speech in the UN, I think he went on for about 11 hours, when Cuba weren't even part of the UN! BTW Fidel and I share the same birthday, something I can't believe I didn't know before I came here. All I can say is whatever misconceptions that I entered this country with are gone. At the end I'll give you a long rant about the good, the bad and the ugly of the country as a whole, but I'm not sure there are words to describe this complex and wonderful country. As they say in Cuba, don't try to understand, just accept. But suffice to say, so far I am absolutely loving it. So the actual trip itself starts in Havana. Customs and immigration are always an interesting place and can say a lot about a country. The only question I got asked was how to spell my last name, clearly I'm on their watch list. What surprised me was there appeared to be a number of Americans, I thought the best part about Cuba was going to be no Americans (I haven't seen any since). So then customs, they screen every piece of hand luggage coming in for I have no idea what. I suppose it's one way to keep people employed. But what these women were wearing, as I have discovered any women who wears a uniform seems to be - short tight skirts regardless of body shape or size, with black patterned stockings. It's 35 degrees! But the 'fashion' in Cuba really is another thing altogether. Finally I get out of the airport and change money, something I haven't had to do in a very long time, my first step back in time and I head into Havana in a rickety old taxi. I always love the drive from the airport, and I must say in this case, I was pleasantly surprised. I expected everything to be falling apart, but it actually didn't look too bad. There were some typical communist apartment buildings, but when they are painted in bright colours and have plantation shutters, well they really don't look that bad. Amazing what a difference some colour makes, I'm sure they are as ****** as any eastern block equivalent on the inside. I'm not sure bright coloured building would do much to improve the happiness of Russians. The other interesting observation was the transport, which again wasn't as bad as I expected. As I've discovered anything that can move can and will be used as a method of transportation in Cuba, regardless of its condition. While my taxi ride was a drive and massage in one, I was very surprised and the number of relatively new looking cars on the road. There was also the cars hanging together by gaffer tape, buses from the 50s to now, bikes, horse and cart and anything in between. So I arrive for my first experience in a homestay. Cuba kind of has a two star rating for hotels - really good or really bad, so for that reason Intrepid use home stays, which are kind of like traveller B&Bs. Not sure what I expected, but largely it was safe and clean, but basic. Most importantly it was well located in the old town of Havana. After over 24 hours of travel and the heat, it was really hot, I was exhausted, hence didn't manage more than a quick walk around on that first day, but it's fair to say that's all it took to fall in love with this city. The old town, Habana Vieja, is a largely a grid, based around four main squares with the harbour at one end and Central Park at the other. Our city tour of the old town really revolved around the four main squares of Old Havana - Plaza de la Cathederal, Plaza Armas, Plaza de San Fransisco and Plaza Vieja. Each different and each beautiful with their own stories. Plaza Armas is my favourite, it's lined with booksellers of old books and magazines in Spanish and English. Not sure where they get then all from as they are probably 40 or so of them all selling the same stuff. But only approved publications can be sold. One side is the beautiful old town hall, and the street outside is paved with wooden cobblestones, never seen that before. While not original, many years ago the lady of the house complained she couldn't sleep because of the sound of the horses hooves on actual cobblestones, so they replaced them with wooden ones. Not really sure that would make a lot of difference, whatever. And given there are still many a horse and cart in Havana, still practical. Although the building is now a museum. Old Havana is in a stage of complete transformation I think. There is a LOT of restoration going on, and I believe has been for 10 or so years (at the instigation of a private consortium, not the government), but literally you can have a building that looks like it going to fall down before your eyes next to a bright, colourful, impeccably kept one. It's probably holding the other up. The buildings and streets around the main squares have largely been regenified, but as you get further away towards Central Park and the more residential parts, then buildings become more and more shabby. Most of the facades of these buildings are beautiful, and are prime real estate, but they are in desperate need of some TLC. The streets are quite narrow and there are people hanging out either windows and doors having a chat, or yelling at each other as is more often often the case, Cuban music blaring in the background. In the hustle and bustle it really has a community feel, which is quite rare in any urban area, let alone right in the middle of the city. But they live so close together they, I doubt there is much that goes on without the neighbours knowing. And I felt very safe walking around, not too much hassle or comment, day and night. Just because the buildings don't look so pretty doesn't mean much really, and it's part of the charm of Havana. After the the tour I headed off for me the must see Museo de la Revolucion, housed in the former, and beautiful, Presidential Palace, no irony there. This museum traces the history of the Revolution from the 1950s, to the missile crisis, Bay of Pigs, and abruptly ends in 1990 (with the fall of the USSR and their much relied upon support). This is a fantastic museum, although it really was a lot to take in. Most surprising to me, for me I think of the revolution and I think of the Castros, I never realised the significance of the role Che Guevara played in the whole thing. And also a lesser talked about man named Camilo Cienfuegos, who was killed in a plane crash after the the success of the revolution. I got the impression from the museum that this man was a well liked person. When I asked my tour leader about him, she said the people loved him and would chant his name, not Fidel's, at rallies and there are suspicions about the 'accident' in which he was killed. Apparently he was no where near to the left as Fidel and Che and much younger, Cubans can only be left to ponder 'what if'. Let's add that to the long list of conspiracy theories, including mine that Fidel is already dead and they are just waiting for the right time to tell/use the news. But my personal favourite, that the CIA poisoned the tobacco crops with some disease that destroyed the crops one year. While the CIA are capable of anything, I'm really not sure this is high on their agenda. God forbid it was just Mother Nature. Honestly they really can't blame the Americans for every bad thing that happens in Cuba. Then to finish of the day, some dinner and Cuban music and dancing (watching, not doing) at Hotel Taberna. It kind of a tourist trap, but the music is Buena Vista style and it was really good. We were told to go that night because one of the guys performing is really old and only performs once a month. He was as black as night, dressed completely in white and he could still belt out a tune. Overall a good way to finish off my first real day in Havana. So on a 6am flight we headed to Baracoa, the furthest eastern point of Cuba. There was a ominous sign in the waiting room "Last Waiting Room", what do they know that I don't? Then I got on the plane and I understood what they mean. I'm not a nervous flyer normally, but I'm pretty sure I was on a 1980 reject plane from another airline. Let just say I'm glad I read the article about the Air France crash after the flight. When we were coming into land all I could see on the left hand side of the plane was water, we were practically level with it. I was very happy to get back on land. Luckily it was worth the early start and terror of the flight. I LOVE this place. It's only two hours away as the crow flies, but it couldn't be more different from Havana. Except for the heat, it's hot, hot, hot. And humid. Baracoa and its surrounds are effectively cut off from the rest of Cuba by a mountain range and rainforest. Until they built a road through the mountains in the 1960s, the only way you could get there was by boat. As a result, it's got a bit a small seaside town / fishing village vibe. You know you're off to a good start when you get taken to your homestay and and given a cooked breakfast complete with fresh fruits and the best hot chocolate I have ever tasted. The region is renowned for its chocolate, but more on that later. So we did a bit of a 'city' walking tour. Baracoa was actually the first place in Cuba to be settled by the Spanish.The buildings appear generally to be pretty well maintained here, lots of nice bright colours, a small town square and pedestrian area. It's a really sweet little town, and the locals were really friendly. There is a small town square, dominated on one side by a Catherdal that apparently has the wooden cross Christopher Colombus planted when he discover Cuba and claimed it for the Spanish. But my favourite was the sea wall and view around the bay. The waves come crashing in, kids mucking around, the odd bit of Revolucion! graffiti, the clip clip of the horse carriages which serve as buses and taxis. And I have no idea what the baseball stadium is like on the inside, but from the outside it must be one of the best located in the world, perched right on the beach, I reckon the waves would hit it at high tide. If Cuba opens its doors, I have a sad feeling this town will go through a massive change. It's basically only about 5 streets wide that run parallel to the sea to the mountains, probably a kilometre or so long, which makes it nice and quiet and friendly. So apparently a highlight of Baracoa is the museum in the caves. I'm not really sure if I was writing the Cuba LP I'd me making such claims, when the best part was the views from the top. It's was just kind of weird and I felt like I was entering a chamber for human sacrifice, with skulls and such around me. Weird is the best description for it if you ask me. Then I was hot, so it was time for siesta. That night for dinner was my first experience of a homestay meal, and it was fabulous. This is where you literally eat in someone's house and they cook for you. It's a great way for them to make some money as a private business. There was so much food for the equivalent of not even $10, it was actually ridiculous, although we are assured nothing goes to waste. The speciality of Baracoa is fish in coconut milk, effectively a fish curry, and it was delicious. As was the black bean soup, everything was great actually, but a lack of greens, as I have found other than tomatoe, any vegetable of colour, especially the green type, is almost a rare as hens teeth. But the really beauty of Baracoa is in its surrounds. The next day we headed off for a hike to a waterfall thought the rainforest. It was a really beautiful walk, at times I thought I could have been somewhere in Australia, if not for the random machete wielding man in the forest. Very lush and green, with many of the same plant and flowers that we have particularly up north. The waterfall was nice, but decided not to go in for a dip this time as I hadn't really worked up that much of a sweat to jump into cold water. There were lots of little houses and farms dotted around the place and then in the middle of what felt like no where a school. Apparently after the Revolucion, one of the first thing Fidel did was set up schools every five miles to improve the literacy rate, which according of the previously visited museum in Havana was appalling, and it's a system that continues until this day as all children must go to school, and the literacy rates of all Cubans is high. This is one of the many paradoxes of communism in Cuba. In my experience educating people, especially the peasants is discouraged in places like communist Russia and China. Of course what they are learning, who knows (lots about nasty Americans no doubt), but at least they know how to read and write which is a great start. The medical education and system is Cuba is supposedly first class and people come here from other Latin American countries to study medicine. They must be doing something right. The most amusing part of the day trip was our transport there and back. Our intended transport broke down, and the replacement appropriately had 'Dodge' written down the side. It reminded me of some sort of converted army truck, billowing black smoke most of the way, which was wasn't very pleasant given we were effectively riding in the back of the tray of the truck. It had a roof, bench seating, no suspension, so combine that with the roads (bush tracks), it's was a drive an massage in one. The funniest thing was the single small chain at the back which kept on falling off and our guide kept putting back on. In the event of an accident, I'm not sure what he thought that would do to protect us. We'll put it in the category of "the things you do when travelling that you would never do at home", i.e. risking your life. The next day, we headed the other side of Baracoa to chocolate country. Apparently this a a great place to grow Cacoa, due to the rich soil and the microclimate that exists in this area. I've been to Haigh's, I know how that make chocolate from the bean, but it was only when presented with the actual raw plant did I realise I'd actually never seen the process from the true beginning. When they open the pods, the plant is actually white and toxic. It has to go through a whole drying and fermentation process before it becomes the magic beans that become chocolate. But here is the nasty part, the framers are required to "sell" (hand over) 70% of their production to that State for export, which mostly ends up in Belgium and Switzerland. And the 70% isn't based on what they have produced, but what the government thinks they have the capacity To produce. So don't expect to see any 'Fair Trade' labels on Lindt chocolate anytime in the near future. They can keep the remaining 30% to sell for themselves. And for those of us that like dark chocolate, all I can tell you is that it is delicious, this great flavour and real texture, but you won't get to sample it as there is no way I can resist it. But you can't get in anywhere else is Cuba, which is insane. From there we headed on a short boat trip down the Yumuri river for a spot of swimming. The river runs through a deep gorge, the walls of the gorge must be 100m high at least. Swimming in the river was fantastic, the water was clear and pretty warm considering its river water. You realise what a small blip of the planet you are swimming is the river and look up. But it always concerns me a little, when we asked the guide if we could drink the water and was told emphatically no, but what about all the open wound I have from scratches. Let hope no parasite has attached himself to me. So in summary I've really loved this little town and my homestay, especially that hot chocolate. Sadly the time came to leave Baracoa, and the cacao, and head to Santiago de Cuba. As I mentioned before, until the 1960s the only way people could get to Baracoa was by boat, until they built the La Farola, the Lighthouse Road, 55km in length, winding through the mountains. Fidel built it as a gift to the people of the region who had supported him during the revolution. While I didn't see a lighthouse, the drive was spectacular. Winding roads through the mountains of the rainforest, green and lush a far as the eye could see with a broody sky overhead adding dramatic effect. It was quite incredible when we got to the other side, a hot, dry, arid landscape, I felts like I was in a completely different country. We continued our drive along the coast through Guantanamo Province up to a point which is effectively the closest point anyone can get to the the Guantanamo Bay US Base. As we stood there trying to get get a glimpse of the base through binoculars, I couldn't help but wonder who might be looking back at me. And for me, it wasn't the image of prisoners in orange jumpsuits in my head, all I could think of was Jack Nicholson in A Few Good Men the "I eat breakfast everyday 500 feet from Cubans who want to kill me". So the background to the US Base, the base was established back at the beginning of the 1900s when Cuba and the US were still friends. As with the bases in Australia, there was a lease agreement and they pay rent accordingly. At the time, the position was strategic in relation to Panama, but became more significant during the Cold War for obvious reasons. In the 1930s there was new lease with no end date, and the base could stay as long as both parties agreed and the rent was set at $4,000 USD per annum. Needless to say this was all fine until the Revolucion, Castro told them to leave, the US said no and the rest is history. The U.S. continue to pay their rent every year, but apparently the Cuban Government never bank the cheques as they regard it as an illegal occupation, which lets face it, it is. The base is quite amazing, it has its own high school, desalination plant and of course Mc Donalds. The air strip is on the others side of the bay from the base, so they have built a bridge, there are nets in the ocean so that no one can swim to the base. There are also land mines on the Cuban side to stop Cuban defecting (there were ones on the U.S. side too, but these have apparently been removed). Still can't say I'd like to be stationed there. So in short we couldn't see much and I wasn't planning on getting any closer. No one seems to really know if there are still prisoners there. The Cubans say there are still a couple of hundred. We continued on our journey through to Santiago de Cuba. Santiago de Cuba is one of the oldest cities in Cuba, celebrating 500 years this year, and the former capital which is regarded as the 'Cradle of the Revolution', well two revolutions actually, the independence from the Spanish and then the more recent one to overthrow the U.S. Backed Batista Government lead by the Castros. It was quite a shock to the system, coming from the smaller relaxed town of Baracoa, my initially impression wasn't good, it felt more like a big, grotty, decrepit city, which felt quite seedy. They say this is the party town, and the hottest both in terms of temperature and nightlife, they have a big carnivale here in August, it's kind of like the New Orleans of Cuba. I can tell you it was really really hot, at 9am we were out in the sun and I felt like I was baking. It's Cuba's 2nd largest city, set around a bay surrounded by mountains, and the city itself is very spread out and lots of up and down. The main square, Parque Cespedes, is a beautiful Spanish square, dominated by a stunningly restored cathedral. It's full of lots of people hanging out, including the not so great kind. But at 6pm it whole square completely emptied out, only to be completely full of people again by 9pm. There were as many people, maybe more in the square then as there was in the middle of the day. But other than the square and a few buildings here and there, most of the building facades at least aren't well maintained and there a quite a few that looked like they could fall down any moment. There are lots of people hanging around the streets, and at times I really felt like I was being watched. Not sure this is the safest place in Cuba. But the next day we got out and about, to the significant sights around the city. First stop Cementerio de Santa Ifigenia, not just any cemetery, the cemetery's in Cuba where anyone who is anyone in Cuba, except Che and Camilo, are buried, they even have a spot ready for Fidel for 'when' he dies. Poor Raul, not sure where he's going. As far as cemeteries go, it's beautiful, white stone and marble as far as the eye can see, it must cost a fortune. There is a also a particular revolutionary flag that flies next to anyone who died during the revolucion, I suppose it's a bit like the Eureka Stockade flag equivalent. Most importantly Jose Marti is buried here, the National Hero, or as I refer to him, the guy the airport is named after. He has a very impressive tomb, which is guarded around the clock. It kind of reminded me of Napoleon's tomb in Paris, but an open air version. Those poor guards, full military uniform in that heat. They do a changing of the guards every half hour, the poor kids would die otherwise. There are also memorials to the heroes of the Moncada attacks and other wars. Basically it's a history lesson of modern Cuba. Next to the Moncada Barracks. The events that took place here really were the start of the revolution. In 1953, the Castros and friends decided to storm these army barracks. It was a bit of a debacle (Raul and his group got lost on the way) and while lots of people on both sides died, it was ultimately unsuccessful, and the Castro's were imprisoned all be it briefly for their efforts. It's now a museum explaining the events, with some very graphic photos and a large spoonful of propaganda to go with it. History is written by the victors after all. But my favourite part, the reproduced bullet holes in the restored facade. Seriously they look ridiculous. Then to the Plaza de la Revolucion, there is one in every town I'm sure, but this is impressive, give the city refers to itself as the 'Cradle of the Revelucion' to me a typical massive communist type over the top memorial. It's dominated by huge statue of Antonio Maceo, apparently the hero of the Spanish War of Independance, next to what at face value look like random massive shards of metal sticking up out of the ground. They represent to machetes used by people as the only weapons they had available to them. Interesting. Final stop, El Morro, a spectacular military fortress build at the entrance to Santiago Harbour. Originally built in 1638, apparently the British managed to destroy it pretty easily. It was rebuilt and strengthened, and a restored version exists today. The highlight really is the view from the fortress, it was beautiful. And I don't think I've ever seen so many random cannon scattered around everywhere. If they really had that many when it was functioning a a fort, I can't see how anyone got anywhere near it. Also in Santiago is the original Bacardi factory. Emilio Bicardi was a very important man about town, he even has his own Museum. But things did not end well, and he left Cuba taking his rum with him, hence Bicardi is no longer produced in Cuba, nor can you buy it here. But not wanting to let anything go to waste, they use the exact same factory to this day to make Havana Club, and you can buy a 750ml bottle pretty much anywhere for around $3 Australian. Cheaper than water sometimes. I suppose it's one way to keep everyone happy. Although there really aren't a lot of drunks around the place that I have noticed. After some recovery, torture was on the itinerary in the form of a Salsa lesson. Now I love to dance, I can keep a rhythm and learn routines, but dancing with another person, closely, is a whole different kettle of fish. I spent the next hour having thoughts of Jennifer Grey and Patrick Swayze in my head as I bumbled my way through what I'm sure was a very basic routine. It was all a bit of fun, all toes in tact, but I have a new appreciation for the contestants on Dancing with the Stars. They love to dance here, especially the Salsa. After the lesson the instructors did a dance for us, they were so good. I have no idea how you would survive in Cuba if you can't sing, dance or play an instrument. And I thought this was wear my dancing for the day would end, not so. Out for drinks and dinner on the rooftop terrace of the beautiful old colonial style Hotel Casagranda. Five stories up you get a great view it the city and the Parque Cespedes. Over dinner the sound of music broke out, a full on orchestra had set up in the main square playing a blend of cuban and classical music. It was fabulous. Then when leaving, someone said there was something going on in the street, which turned out to be some full on street party. They'd basically set up a band in the middle of the street, and there were a bunch of locals and what I think we're German tourists singing and dancing and having a great time. This is what I think of when I think of Cuba, music and dancing. But watching as passive observer was not something the locals had in mind. I spent the next half an hour getting the best workout I've ever had been passed from local to local to dance, old and young, despite protests of my inability to do so. They really don't care, they just want you to have fun and drag you into it. My main dance partner was dressed in pink head to toe with a big Afro. Awe well, when in Cuba...... I must say I leave this city with a much better feeling than when I arrived, which once again proves you should never judge a book by its cover. And that my friends is where week one ends. Cindy the dancing queen