Cuban adventures

Ohhh, this last vacations left a very strong impression in me and have enlighten my way to think about this world in general, specially about our societies and the standards to which we conform in our everyday lives. Why? because I have never been so wrong about my expectations about a country and their people, or better said, the standards to which they conform.

Im talking about Cuba. That secluded island neighboring my homeland (Mexico). We all know that it is quite an exception in most ways, but specially because is a communist country with closed borders, but what most of us (and this is specially so in my case)so not know is what implications this brings, or how different it can be from something that looks so similar.

As you might have noticed by now, I went there with great expectations and left deeply disappointed, not only because of cuba in itself, but also several other factors that made me angry even before I even arrived there. These unfortunate events are stories in themselves and Ill indulge with the main tale in a moment, but I want to make clear that this text is meant to be objective, what happened before cuba did not happen in cuba.

 And so it all began, waking up very early and driving in the cold to find out as soon as I wanted to check in that just a couple of days before, when I entered Mexico, my passport was not stamped and therefore I could not leave the country without going to the migratory office and getting the proper stamp. Funny thing, the office would not open until I had already missed my flight, and so I did. First time in my life, and that little misunderstanding ended up costing me several hundred dollars.

 Understandably upset and amazingly cold, I had to wait four more hours for the next flight while my dear friend who was travelling with me had to go ahead without me and wait four more hours for me until I arrived. Few times in my life had I been so angry and trying to look at the whole situation with humour I was thinking to myself that I should try to analyze, and memorize what I felt cause it was quite a unique moment in my life... but fool me, I had no idea of the amount of anger that was awaiting me later in this trip.

Anyways, I was there. Finally made it and my friend was waiting for me right where I could findd her without effort, but of course, one of the first things I heard from her was that her card didnt work in the ATMs. This came as annoying but not surprising. I had plenty of money with me in cash to change because I had read before about problems with money and the complicated system of having a "tourist-only" currency and extra taxes to credit cards.

Nothing to bad, we managed to get money with the exchange booth and then, as cubans are not allowed to fly out of the country (except in special occasions) and tourists are not allowed on the public buses, there is no other way to get to Havana than to take a taxi... and so we did. This old american car that makes the Havana look so nice and retro in all the pictures, yeah, why not? well, they are unsafe, uncomfortable and they stink to burned oil and diesel.

 Very soon the nostalgia of the nice retro cars was replaced by a disgustingly polluted city, seriously, grey air as bad  or worst than my hometown of Mexico City (which is pretty bad), and as said, the whole city stinks because of this. At least Mexico City does not smell like that. Oh well, I wouldnt let something like that get me down, I was just noticing the bad in everything cause I was tired and in a bad humor. Soon Ill be in the capital and everything will start going better.

 We found the "casa" where I had booked and found that it seemed clear and the hosts were nice. But exactly in the center, was kind of misleading. Never-the-less, lets shower and go out to make the best out of our first day. A walk to the "Malecon" that should be very near by sounds like the best start, if you dont consider the heavy and cold wind... which we didnt. So we ended up not being able to walk the Malecon because of the rough sea and heavy wind that would soak anyone who dared to try.

 Instead we walked through the smaller streets in direction of the old town. There were plenty of people sitting outside of their porches doing some "people watching" (quite a popular activity as I would later notice) and the other thing to notice was the bad condition of the buildings.

The good news is that on our first night, I wanted to go to a good restaurant. And lucky us, right in front of the capitol there was a very big line of people waiting to get a table in a Criollan restaurant. So we took our place and waited until we got offered a nice table at what seemed to be a very fancy venue all decorated with prices, hand carved wood decoration and lit under candle light. Exactly what I was hoping to find to celebrate.

It was named "Los Nardos". The food was good, and Prices seemed fair. I enjoyed it. So yes, not everything is as bad as I describe it to be. But the funny part about this, is that it was the only time on the trip that I would feel pleased with a restaurant. We were very lucky to start the trip with that, and it kept being a disappointment not being able to find another venue as good as that one was, and even worst, at such good prices.

For the rest of the trip, we fed mostly on smaller snacks and italian food (not something to expect in the caribe), and in my case, imported and cheap cookies. But on the bright side, most of the Casas will offer breakfast for around 4 Cuc's and they are not too bad, but a bit  miserable. So in conclusion, Ill finish my whining by saying that in general, the food in Cuba, as to be expected, is horrible according to my standards.

 Now the story about the busses. This one is funny now, but I almost went berserk when it happened. It started when we decided to go to the town of Cienfuegos instead of the beach of Varadero. Touristic places seemed to be something we were not aiming for anymore and to leave, we wanted to reserve two seats with one of the tour operators but for some reason I couldnt understand, it was only possible two days before the date.

 This meant we had to take the normal busses, and we needed a taxi to get to the main statin. So we took one those oldie ones again and once let me remind you, they look much better from far away. But lets not start that again, we made it there and after ignoring the many drivers that offer you to take you anywhere by taxi, we managed to get there.

 In the "reception" the fat lady behind the desk didnt even greet us, she was ignoring us while talking loudly with a friend of hers until felt like I had to interrupt. Not happy with my tone she replied "yes, what?" and after explaining our request she said that there were no more busses for tomorrow and the first bus was at 8:45 the day after. So we bought the tickets disappointed to stay in Havana one more night(which were two slips of paper with stamps and a lazy signature) and as soon as we did, she turned to her friend and said "So, as I was saying..."

 We walked for a bit, ate and made our way home again after not finding anything interesting to do or see. There we had the good news that we could stay one more night where we were, and that all our other reservations were successfully postponed by one night. At least that brought my temper down a bit, so I felt like going to the beach and getting rid of my pale skin was the best thing to do. And that was a complete joy even with the minor first degree burns that I endured in the process.

The day of departure, knowing that in Havana many things had gone wrong, we woke up at 7:00 and left to the station at 8:00 trying to be there 30 minutes earlier. It took us 5 minutes to find a taxi, so we got there at 8:20, only 25 mins which still seemed to be early enough, but no. The guy at the station even giggled a bit before saying that "the bus to Cienfuegos left only 2 minutes ago... it was not 8:45, but 8:15"

Asking for an explanation was no use, he would just raise his shoulders and smirk trying not to giggle again. Apparently the receptionist really doesnt like to be interrupted. So we had lost our bus, what now? Well, they told us to wait for the next one that was 3 hours away and that we shouldnt worry, there was always place to spare. Which means we could have taken the bus yesterday? -I asked calmly, and to my lack of amazement, the answer was "of course".

At that point, my brain was about to blank, do something stupid and probably get me into more trouble. I was about to burst with anger and so I did what I always do when I get that angry, I went silent and sat down trying to control the stream of chemicals rushing all over my body. And so I remained for the whole 3 hours before taking the next bus. And by the time I was calm again, I still couldnt find courage to start a conversation with my friend who seemed to share most of my anguish, also in silence.

It was a bad ride, not only because of our mood, it was long and also uncomfortable but when we had our touristic stop to shop, we managed to start talking again with each other. And funny enough, with the peace of mind, I managed to get some sleep before reaching Cienfuegos which lucky us, greeted us with pretty good weather. I verified (twice) the times for our bus to Trinidad tomorrow and we found our way to our new Casa.

From here on, the whole story turns out better. It was a little town founded by the catalans so it was pretty and reminded me a bit to my beloved Barcelona. The streets are build in a parallel mesh and organized by numbers and it makes it pretty easy to move around without getting lost. Left our stuff and went out as soon as possible so we managed to tour the little town quickly and we made our way to the bay just before a very beautiful sunset. Its amazing how something like that can cheer you up.

Next day we finished with what we hadnt manage to see, including a funny rehearsal for a kids show at the theater and made our way to the bus station where we had no more problems. The bus ride was much shorter and upon arrival in Trinidad, there was a lady with a sign that had my name written on it (I noticed that there is a first time for everything) and she escorted us through a maze of random streets (nothing like the nice Cienfuegos) up to our new Casa, and on the way I finally started to feel like I was in Cuba.

Trinidad is pretty. Most books names it the jewel of the caribean, which I consider an exaggeration in any way, but I did like it from the beginning so I dont want to make it sound bad. Then again, this might be because of all my bad previous experiences, the best out of the bad? Either way, I was happy to be there, happy there was a Casa de la Musica (even though I had no intentions of dancing salsa) and very confortable in our new room. 

Few days went by with satisfaction until I had to leave Trinidad and my good friend behind and go back for a very short night to the Havana. I wanted to arrive as late as possible, go to sleep and wake up soon after to go to the airport. But I had to eat something once I arrived and of course that city wouldnt let me go without a last proper goodbye laugh (sarcastic smirk that is). 

As I walked to the casa with my backpack on the Boulevard (the most busy street I knew) looking for a pizza stand to grab something on the go. Three girls approached me and started asking me if I wanted to have a good time, so I very politely answered that I was not interested. They continued insisting regardless of my ever more loud and direct NO!, thank you... until the point where one started pulling my arm and I had to yell for them to leave me alone, now!

They left laughing and I got my pizza*. But as soon as I got home, I noticed the side pocket of my backpack had been opened and I was missing a half bottle of water and my 6 moths old toothbrush. Those girls had obviously been bothering me while trying to get stuff out and left noticing I had nothing of value on the outside pockets. But non-the-less, on my last 6 hours, I was robbed.

*(Note, the pizza man was the only fair cuban that I got to meet for he gave me a couple of Cuban pesos to make up the price difference instead of rounding it up)

 My last and probably funniest anecdote was at the airport on my way home. After having checked my bad, had to go to migration to pay the tax for leaving the country. I was standing there in one of the 10 or 12 lines and waited for easy 30 minutes until it was almost my turn. Then as the lady in front of me went to the migration officer and delivered her passport he put it on the table and started looking down at it.

It took a while, and the other lines were moving, but ours wasnt. The lady by the desk was just looking around waiting for the officer and I was about to ask what was going on when I realized offer the side panel from his little cubicle that his eyes were closed, and he wasnt reading something, he was nodding his head asleep. Yes, the migration officer was asleep so I started giggling in disbelief and took a few steps forward to make sure. Yes.

So I screamed to the lady, loudly enough so everyone could hear: "wake him up, he is sleeping!" and she looked at me confused before looking down and realizing I was right and not knowing what to do, she just looked back at me and didnt do anything. So at that moment, the lady behind me in line stepped forward to the counter and with all her might slammed her hand against the desk so loud that all the airport turned to look at the guard who just jolted and almost fell back of his seat.

I found this slightly amusing even though in other circumstances I would have laughed-out-loud. It was very funny and his face unforgettable. But I was in no mood of laughing anymore, I just wanted to get out of that country and be home with my family and this seemed to be  the general feeling because everyone went back to the gloomy mood of just a minute ago, and shortly after, it seemed like nothing had even happened.

As I got to the counter I said "good morning!" very cheerfully, but he didnt seem to find this funny, and I didnt care if he did. I just waited a moment and went thru. Managed to find the terminal without problem, I bought me a last package of cookies and to my delight, not only the flight was on time but I made it to Mexico alive.

The conclusion of it all is that I do not like Cuba, and im very disapointed, but lets be realistic here: What other week of my life could have produced such a long and entertaining text? I even skipped a couple of stories so I wouldnt overwhelm everyone... I always said that good times make good memories, and bad times make good stories. The fact that I didnt like it, doesnt mean that I regret being there. It was an enlightening experience and left me with memories (either good or bad) that I will never forget and thats better than other holidays Ive had.