Tin tin in the forbidden land
Trip Start
Jun 09, 2005
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3
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Trip End
Ongoing
Havana,
Cuba
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
I thought I was gonna have a heart attack going thru immigration. I have no idea what I'm in for. I fill out all my documents, visa, etc. and wait to be called forward. An upright Socialist in his starched uniform calls me to him. I give him my passport, he looks at me. STARES at me. Stamps what I hope is my visa and not my passport. Still staring. Then he winks at me and says "Have a good trip!". As I step into a rainstorm, I hop in a brand new Fod
passenger van and I'm off to my uber posh 5 star hotel in Centro Havana! First thing I notice on the way there is that there are no billboards for advertisements. They are all pro-revolution and have Castro's smiling mug on them saying "Vamos Bien". Che is ever present with his handsome face on buildings, posters, just everywhere.
Transport is intriguing. There's everything from 3wheeled bikes that carry 2 (or more) passengers, coco taxis (3 wheeled motorized coconut looking things), Soviet era Ladas (LOADS), new-ish Toyotas, the iconic 50's American cars (in various states of repair and disrepair), to a 300 passenger bus pulled by a big rig. The streets, however, are deserted and the "highways" are for the most part one lane paved roads with very, very few cars on them. Highways are littered with hitchhikers. Music really does flood the streets of Havana. Live bands playing classics and new songs. Haggard old singers with beautiful voluptuous flautists go at it in corner bars with bystanders pouring into the streets. Mojitos are $2.20 and damn good! Jinteros (hustlers) are everywhere and they all want to know: A que pais? Where are you from? People hang over Baroque style balconies that look as if they're hanging form a string. Out of the windows Cuban music flows and bounces off the nieghbors dilapidated walls. I think the paint is peeling off all these buildings simply because they can't take the loud music. The only reason it hangs on is because the music is soooo good.
There are government stores here that would astound you. They're nearly empty grand old department stores from the 1930's whose broken display cases house rusty spare parts for God knows what and vases that are so
hideous that they may never see a flower. In the center of the display fortress (they're arranged in a circle) are piles of old clothes. Tossed in a pile for citizens to rummage thru. Find something decent and you'll be charged an arm and a leg for it. There's poverty here, yes. But there is also a quality if life that transcends what money can buy. The music is free. TV is a luxury most don't have. Their TV is sitting on the balcony, front porch, or curb and watching people perform their lives outside. I did this in Trinidad town yesterday. I stayed in a private home in a middle class (read: very poor) neighborhood. For 3 hours I sat on the curb watching people do their laundry by hand on their porch. Kids running and playing in the street, making up games with rocks and... well, rocks! Everyone brings out
chairs on their front stoops and chats with neighbors and just watches the light fade from the sky. I wouldn't have believed one could be satisfied with that, but I truly was.
love,
tin tin
