| Day 1:
Julie and Scott took me to JFK in the Mini with puppy Homer, three hours ahead of time, for check-in procedures and we needed every minute of it. The line was long, Cuban Americans returning laden with gifts and presumably necessities. Many had see-through bags which contained container after container of aspirins, vitamins and over the counter medications, which because of our embargo and withdrawal of Russian support are in short supply. I saw when I met our group in Havana that many of them brought the same sorts of things, and some had prescription meds, antibiotics and the like which we delivered to clinics and an orphanage. The schools also are in desperate need of basic supplies like pencils and pens and I took a supply of them.
The Cuban American passengers were so laden down we thought the plane would never take off! As they passed through luggage security, and weighed their bags, they were shelling out hundreds of dollars to pay for the extra weight. The Cuban gate attendants announced boarding without separating rows so it was a madhouse, everyone herding on at once. On the flight they chattered excitedly all the way, and cheered heartily both as we took off and landed. I understand this is a Hispanic custom because I have seen it going to Puerto Rico also. (A n unusual sight; a passenger walked down the aisle past my seat and I noticed that one of her thumbs had a second top joint of a thumb growing out of it; both polished bright red!)
On arrival at Havana it took us a couple of hours to get through immigration. The officer stared at my passport picture, back at me, back at the picture, about ten times! Like anyone else would have a haircut like mine. Outside the airport awaited throngs of family members to meet their Cuban American relatives.
We were met by a representative of Amistur, the tour company organized by Cross Cultural Solutions in New York, who had put together our trip. They had helped us to acquire our tickets and visas so we could travel directly from the U.S. into Cuba. American tourists now have to go to Canada to exit North America. CCS arranges meetings with various Cuban organizations in setting up such a cultural exchange as they call it. Our Amistur rep. was a lovely woman called Janellis who spoke perfect English and was a very carefully trained Cuban in charge of American tourists! (You may substitute the word propagandize for trained) Since it was so late we had a quick dinner at the Hotel Plaza and went to bed. The hotel appeared to be very grand, marble everywhere, but as with the rest of Havana, crumbling on the inside.
On the ride to the hotel, even in the dark, I immediately noticed all the fifties and sixties American cars; car guy’s dream city. When Castro banned ownership of private property, the Cubans who fled left their houses and those cars, many of which are jitney type taxis now.
A quick dinner with the JFK departure group members and then to bed. Most of the Women’s Travel Group departed from Miami so we all met up the next day.
Day 2:
Sunday morning, breakfast in the hotel, met my traveling companions for the ensuing week, and then we all climbed on the bus for a tour of the old and new city, and a walking tour of the UNESCO area, which is a beautifully preserved section. Some of the narrow streets and beautiful cobbled squares reminded me of Venice and other parts of Italy and Spain too. We visited the Cuban cigar factory and bought Cohibas for a special gift. Only $100 worth of Cuban cigars is allowed by the U.S. government. And there are other restrictions on imports.
Today I discovered Mojitos, a heavenly concoction that is basically a mint julep with rum instead of bourbon. They cost two bucks each so we inhaled a few each night. I also discovered how Cuba loves its art and its artists ;the museums are fabulous and even the artwork in the marketplaces is good and extremely cheap. (More on this subject for Monday night) Artists who are world renowned live in relative splendor compared with the average Cuban and are treasured.
The picture is of one the buildings surrounding the Place de la Revolution with Che displayed prominently. Che Guevara is a huge, huge hero to these people. And his picture and messages on billboards are everywhere; with messages such as Be Like Che, Live your Life like Che, etc. Meaning give your life for your country.
Here’s an illustration of how fascinating our group of women were: One night, after our visit to the Che Memorial in Santa Clara, Deann from L.A. piped up and mentioned that she had written her Masters thesis on Che! Interesting dinner discussion that night.
Day 3:
On Monday we boarded the bus again and were taken west of the city to the Pinar del Rio Province and a tour of the Las Terrazas Community Project. This was described to us as a self-sustaining farming community, carefully designed for a certain number of residents. We visited the clinic, chatted with the doctor and nurses, saw a busy day care center, and enjoyed a great lunch, entertained by the usual Cuban band. Medical care in Cuba is considered to be excellent, and their medical university accepts and trains doctors from China, Venezuela and other countries.
Some of our members of our group were a tad doubtful as to the truth of the self- sustaining nature of this community because of the absence of workers; doubt was a frequent emotion during this trip as we were told of the wonders of the political system. The picture of this community looks rather idyllic, doesn’t it?!
the trip to the commune, I went with a couple of other women to a local clinic they had contacted ahead of time to deliver some medicines from the U.S. They were so grateful.
On Sunday we had been informed that the Cuban Ballet was ending a season in Havana and so a few of us were lucky enough to get tickets. Lucky isn’t quite strong enough a word; it was the most exquisite performance I have ever seen, anywhere. The ticket were very cheap too. Who wants to guess who was in the balcony, in fatigues, kissing all the ladies. YES. Indescribable ballet, quite avant garde .
Day 4:
Tuesday we were taken to a model layout of the city and had impressed on us the improvements that were planned; the parts that are in the planning stage were all in white and it was obvious that white was the prominent color in the layout. More like hopes and dreams than plans I fear. In the afternoon we visited an incredible cemetery; the private crypts, which appeared to comprise the entire cemetery, were more like minor castles and obviously indicated a desire on the part of the wealthy elite to outdo their colleagues even in death. An amazing sight though. The hearses were old, old converted American cars!
The afternoon was spent meeting with a local group of the Cuban Women’s Federation. Each municipality has one of these groups of women who provide family services such as counseling, education, training to the members of the families of that municipality. The women feel that their services and family support systems, lead to low incidence of domestic violence and if it does occur the women have a place to go for help.
In Cuba women’s reproductive systems are considered to be their own business and “illegitimate” children do not exist. Most parents do marry not only for the usual reasons but for economics also.
Several of us went to the Hotel Nacionale for mojitos that evening, a beautiful old hotel that is allegedly the setting of the Mafia meeting in “The Godfather” in Havana. In the basement is a tunnel system and cave that was put in place in anticipation of invasion at the time of the missile crisis. After dinner at a local restaurant we were taken to the fort for the nightly enactment of the cannon blast ceremony.
Day 5:
On Wednesday morning we boarded the bus for a long ride across the island to Santa Clara, home of the Che Guevara memorial, and then on to Trinidad, a beautiful beach resort. The resorts are usually joint ventures with European countries and are typical Caribbean hotels, on gorgeous beaches. The ride took about four hours and during it we watched a video. Interesting choice of film by the tour guide; a Cuban film called “Strawberry and Chocolate,” about the problems faced by a gay artist in Cuba. Very well done.
After lunch we went to visit an art academy. I have mentioned before how Cuba loves its art and artists. In the Cuban system, children who are recognized to have performing art talents are taken from the public schools around the age of 8 and admitted to a special performing arts school. This is a tough regimen; they attend school from 8 until 6, studying the art of their choice and regular academic classes. Then a break for dinner and then studying for two hours before bed. The performances again were exquisite; amazing considering the age of the performers. We watched ballet and guitar ists and singing by very young artists and it was beautiful.
We had a quick-whip round among our group and came up with enough money to buy a new instrument; the principal cried when she accepted it. Then, as always, they provided lovely refreshments and a chance to talk with the students, whom we found very outgoing and mature.
The hotel in Santa Clara was a series of thatched cottages around a pool, so a nice chance to relax. We visited the Memorial and then went to dinner, and enjoyed the discussion I described before.
Day 6:
On Thursday we drove back to the Che Memorial for picture-taking since it had been too dark the night before. The drive to Trinidad, a town by the sea, took about two hours. We stopped in the village briefly, and while most of the group toured the art museums there, another water-loving woman and I headed for the beach by local taxi. I have spent a lot of time in the Caribbean and I judge this beach one of the best. Not only was the sand heavenly, but the water was calm, perfect temperature and best of all, we had the place to ourselves! Denise and I found a Cuban with a dinghy to take us out to a reef where we snorkeled for the afternoon and the fish were beautiful. The rest of the afternoon was spent lying in the sun drinking pina coladas. (I didn’t feel too wonderful the next morning).
The hotel was a fairly typical Caribbean resort, right on the beach. As mentioned, most of these resorts are joint ventures between the Cuban government and a European country and Cubans are not allowed to stay in them. Apparently the government maintains various areas of private homes for vacationing nationals.
Thursday evening was a pre- arranged visit with a local group of the Committee for the Defense of the Revolution (CDR) in the local village. Several members of the committee described CDR’s mission to us, and our guide translated for us. They described it as a sort of neighborhood watch. The discussion became very political, anti- American and pro- Castro. Some members of our group were disturbed when a Cuban speaker spat on the ground when he mentioned Bush’s name. Personally I was not surprised; how often would they have such a forum? A reminder that you really do need to leave behind your prejudices when visiting underdeveloped or socialist-type countries.
After the discussion, as usual, the local children danced for us, and pulled us up with their hands to dance with them. The adults passed around cake and coconuts filled with rum! Then the children gave us all flowers.
Day 7:
Sad to say, Friday was my last day of seeing Cuba. We drove the long ride back to Havana (five hours) and had an afternoon left to take in any sights we had missed. Difficult to decide what to do first, but the ultimate outcome was a decision by me to come back. I eventually decided to head out to the house where Ernest Hemingway lived with two of his wives, and where he wrote, among other titles, The Old Man and the Sea. Beautiful, crumbling old house that is a museum now. The grounds were lovely, and the Pilar sits proudly there! Inside the house is a picture of Fidel and Ernest at a fishing competition. Apparently Fidel actually won the contest but gave the trophy to Hemingway; it was the only time they ever met. For anyone who is familiar with the Key West house, this one once housed over 50 cats.
Before dinner, we went to what is named theFriendship House where we exchanged ideas with a Cuban representative of Cross Cultural Solutions. We were several times introduced as women traveling together because our husbands couldn’t get away! And it was assumed that we would be most interested in women‘s issues. Apparently we were the first all- women’s group to do this particular exchange so we made a couple of recommendations for their next venture.
Dinner that night was at a paladares, which means private restaurant in a family home. Until quite recently Cubans have not been allowed to run businesses without paying a prohibitive amount of money for a government license, which precluded the small businessman. This meant that even restaurants were all state-owned. Things have relaxed a little and now people do serve dinners in their homes.
Next morning was off to the airport early, quick shopping for rum and then home, a much more orderly flight this time.
Cuba is a country that somehow gets under your skin; it was my first trip to a communist country and I can’t compare it to any other trip I have taken. I am going to China next month and am anxious to see how the system there works now that capitalism is slowly taking hold.
Due to US Regulations since Dec. 31, 2003, we no longer arrange trips to Cuba. But we will again when the rules reverse themselves in future.
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