The coolest thing ever!

I’m just going to completely ignore the fact that I haven’t written in weeks, and put up some posts about what I’ve been doing. Now that I’ve written all of my papers (YAY!!), I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.

A few weekends ago Michael and I went to the Tropicana. The Tropicana is this really lavish cabaret show that was huge before the revolution. Nat King Cole played there, and it was a hangout for the Mafia when they were in Havana. Nowadays the club only has planned shows rather than new acts every week, but the decadence is still there, and although it was a little pricey (our seats, which were in the best section, were 90 euros a pop), it was one of the things I had planned to do before I even got to Cuba, so it wasn’t something I was going to miss.

After a very nice dinner at the best seafood restaurant in the city (it’s owned and operated by the Ministry of Fish in Cuba, so if you can’t get good seafood there, where can you, right?), we took a cab to the secluded estate of the club. In addition to the theater building itself, the grounds included a park with heavy tropical vegetation and various fountains and statues celebrating dance. We walked around for a bit, then entered the outdoor theater and took our seats.

The show itself was AMAZING. Mind-blowing, seriously. Our seats were the best I could have asked for, and the complementary bottle of aged rum made our experience that much better. Words honestly cannot do this justice, so I’ll just put up some pictures here so you can hopefully get a feel for the production.

What I'm grateful for.

Happy Thanksgiving!! Our ‘Día de Acción de Gracias’ (literally Day of the Action of Thanks… terrible translation) was surprisingly delicious here. Debra (Jake’s dad’s lawyer friend) cooked a fantastic meal, complete with turkey, gravy, stuffing (I had forgotten about stuffing… mmm), excellent salad (again, with vegetables and flavors that didn’t know you could find here), sautéed greens, amazing candied boniato (a root vegetable that is common here) rather than yams, and Jake’s sister came to visit from the states and brought some canned cranberry sauce with her. So we were pretty well taken care of. Oh! And in the dessert department (as I write this it’s making my mouth water, and I’m a little jealous of myself for being able to eat this) we had boniato pie (rather than sweet potato pie), carrot bread (Debra’s own recipe; sooo gooood), and homemade brownies.

Although our group was kind of a mish-mosh (six American students and 3 Cubans, one of which was fairly uncertain about the origins of Thanksgiving and thought it had origins in Judaism until we corrected her), the whole affair was definitely something to be grateful for. I find that I like Havana a lot more on a full stomach, and after such a great meal I started to reflect on my experiences thus far. I won’t expound on them too much here (otherwise, my final post would be rather anti-climactic), but as hokey as it sounds, I realized how lucky I am to be from a country like the United States. I’m thankful to live in a society where my ability to express my personal opinions is valued (and legal), and to know that my country was founded on principles such as self-realization. More than anything this year, though, I’m grateful that my life has afforded me the opportunity to go abroad so that I can realize exactly how fortunate I am. Many Americans take their fortune for granted, considering such liberties to be givens because they’ve never known anything else. However, after having had this experience I believe more strongly than ever that we owe it to ourselves, and to other citizens of the world who aren’t so blessed, to exercise our rights and take full advantage of our freedom so that we appreciate them to their fullest extent.

So now I’m off of my soapbox. Hope everyone else’s Thanksgiving was restful and delicious!!

Amazing Blogger (Bloggress?)

In my constant quest to learn more about the true Cuban experience, I have stumbled upon an amazing Cuban blogger named Yoani Sánchez. Her blogs are mainly about daily Cuban life, but she speaks her mind freely about these instances, which is an unbelievably brave thing to do here. I think there was an NPR segment on her a few months ago, and Time magazine listed her as one of the 100 most influential people of 2008. Her site has been blocked in English and in Spanish by the Cuban government, so I have to use some fancy maneuvering to be able to read it, but you in the States can go directly to her site by clicking here. I hope it sheds further light on what it is like to be a citizen in this country; it certainly has for me.

What is this ‘blog’ you speak of?

Out of nowhere, this carefree, laid-back Cuban lifestyle has turned into one full of deadlines and, dare I say it, activity? This past weekend was pretty fun:

On Friday, Michael and I went to the Bellas Artes, an art museum in Old Havana. The museum takes up two buildings, one of which is dedicated to older international art, the other to specifically Cuban artists, typically from a more modern era. But I was in a sentimental mood on Friday, so we went to the international one. The art was mostly from the “schools” of famous painters of the time, but the architecture of the actual museum was absolutely stunning: winding staircases, marble floors, and a beautiful stained glass window on the ceiling of the palace. There were also some ridiculously well-preserved artifacts from over 4000 years ago in the empires of Ancient Egypt and Greece. Nothing too fancy; just a nice day at the museum. Hopefully we’ll go to the Cuban one soon.

Friday night a group of us went for dinner at the apartment of Jake’s dad’s friend, who we knew was a laywer of some kind. Deborah, an American, has lived in Havana for 20 years doing various research and litigation for Cuba. On our way there, we all expected her to be some sort of human rights’ lawyer; kind of a logical conclusion when you realize that suing any business here would in effect be suing the government, which I can’t imagine going over very well. And as for suing each other over personanl property, quite frankly there isn´t much to argue over. But the truth was actually more interesting. Deborah is currently representing Cuba in an American case against Bacardi, the rum company (The family, once a part of Cuba’s high society, fled after the Revolution). Apparently Bacardi is afraid of the embargo ending, and having other, more authentic, Cuban brands enter in the American market. In particular, there’s another rum company, called Havana Club, that they’re worried about, as well as Cohibe, the brand of cigar that Fidel smokes, which is highly coveted in the U.S. by cigar afficionados. The case has been in litigation for about 12 years, each time being appealed by the Cuban government. The main problem in the court rulings is that the legal definition of property rights in the United States doesn’t really apply to Cuba. In the United States a person or company can have rights to a brand, but in the case of Cuba it’s a whole country claiming ownership, since the government in effect owns every company. Also, I suppose it would be a politically-charged situation, to say the least, if they recognized Cuba’s right to own a brand that was previously owned by an individual and then taken by appropriation.
Deborah invited two of her friends to dinner with us (I guess the idea of entertaining four 20-somethings on her own didn’t really appeal to her). The woman, Patricia, is a social psychologist who works with Cuban companies in various industries to improve worker morale and participation. Unbelievably fortunately for me, this is exactly the topic I chose a few weeks ago for my Sociology of Work final paper, so you can imagine I will be contacting her very soon. Deborah’s other friend, Jesús, is a stage and set designer for Cuban theater. After talking to him for a while we found out that he had actually designed the set-up for a Cuban production of Cabaret happening that weekend. At the end of the night, he invited us to attend the Sunday showing, and we parted ways.
The food, by the way, was absolutely stellar. I was beginning to forget what curry tasted like (how she found it here, I’ll never know). We’re currently in talks to see if we can have some sort of mish-mosh Thanksgiving dinner… fingers crossed!

Sam’s parents were in town last weekend, and Saturday night they invited us all to dinner. Also in attendance was our advisor at the University of Havana, Carmita. All in all it was a great night, full of interesting conversations about Cuba, funny quirks in both English and Spanish… a very international experience. The food was delicious for the most part (I was extremely pleased with my 8 CUC lobster dish, though others were not so pleased with the maggot-inhabited hot sauce they ordered for their French fries… *sigh* such is Cuba). It was nice to get everyone together for something; we’re usually off doing our own things exploring the city, and occasionally napping heavily.

Sunday I finally gave in and began doing research for my final papers. In total it’s going to be around 30 pages of academic writing, in Spanish, so… don’t be surprised if my blogging languishes severely. Later that day Mike, Sandra, and I went to Jesús’ Cabaret production. The set was fantastic, and the stage went straight through the middle of the audience—apparently the first stage of its kind in Cuba. As it was all in Spanish, the songs were a little hard to understand (even though I knew most of them in English), but the dialogue was very clear and, surprisingly, I understood it all! It struck me as a little odd, however, that the show was so popular even though it makes such a blatant mockery of the totalitarian, puppet-on-a-string mentality of Nazism; to me there is little difference between the two systems in that respect. But, as Michael so accurately put it after the show, I guess “There’s nothing a Socialist hates more than another type of Socialist.”

After the show Mike and I rushed back to the residence to eat dinner, and then we were off to the movies! Last weekend the movie theater right next to our residence had a festival of films based on Cuban literature. Ever since we arrived in Cuba, we’ve been hearing non-stop about this one movie, Fresa y Chocolate (Strawberry and Chocolate), and how it’s probably the best Cuban film ever made. So when we saw that it was showing Sunday night, we knew we had to go. To our great pleasure, the movie was subtitled in English, as the version played in the theater was off of a DVD compilation of films endorsed by Robert Redford’s independent film organization.
I loved the movie. Basically it was about a young Cuban student who is a diehard member of the Communist Party. He gets assigned to investigate this supposedly counter-revolutionary gay man, who actually knows more about Cuban art and culture (and is thus arguably more “Cuban”) than he. Of course along the way each realizes that the other isn’t just a stereotype, and they both learn to put a human face on what before they each considered to be “the enemy”. Beyond the plot, the movie did a really fantastic job of throwing in small comments and scenes that depicted exactly what life in Havana is like. While I was watching the movie, I kept thinking that once I get back home, I’ll be able to show the movie to my family so they can get an even deeper understanding of my experiences this semester.
In a complete contrast from classic Cuban film, on Monday I went to see Speed Racer with Michael, which was good because if I was ever going to see that movie, it would be in a situation where I´d only have to pay 5 cents.

Along with the harsh reality of final papers, the realization that the “real world” is rapidly approaching us has also begun to set in. Classes have been registered for, and people are once again talking about modifying their resumes for recruitment in January. I usually have a hard time readjusting to classes after breaks as it is; I can’t imagine how jarring this transition will be.

Election Night in Havana

Experiencing the American election abroad has been really interesting, especially in a country with such a unique perspective as Cuba. In general, Cubans are very supportive of Obama, since he has spoken openly about reinstating diplomatic relations with the Castro regime. Below the surface of this initial enthusiasm, however, many of them still see him as just one of many presidents before him, and are aware that little beyond Cuban-American relations (if even that) may change. Being a black non-Obama supporter has added another level to the whole experience, since people automatically assume that I voted for him (even more so than in the United States!); I have been personally congratulated several times on his victory since Tuesday, by students and professors alike.

The actual night of the election was absolutely amazing. A few weeks ago, some of the American students went to the American Interests Section (which basically does everything an embassy would do, it’s just not called that, for obvious reasons) to cast their absentee ballots. They met the American Citizen Services Officer, who invited us to an election night party at the house of the head of the U.S. mission (a.k.a ambassador). So Tuesday night we got pseudo-dressed up and caught a bus to Miramar, more or less the suburbs of Havana. The wealthiest Cubans used to live there during the 50’s, but they all fled during the Revolution, so the government appropriated all of their mansions, and now most of them are embassies. Once we got to Miramar we had to show some form of American identification in order to get on a shuttle to take us to Cubanacan, another neighborhood with basically the same story as Miramar, but with even wealthier people. The head of the mission lives in Cubanacan, in the house that was originally built with the intention of housing the U.S. President on his visits to Cuba… oops.

The house and its grounds were absolutely beautiful… I’ve honestly never been in such a lavish place without taking a tour of some sort. The gardens in the back were beautifully maintained, with a tennis court, swimming pool, and vegetable garden all on the property. The event was catered by the house’s staffed kitchen, to the delight of all American stomachs that had been starved for anything legitimately resembling American cuisine (I was beginning to forget the taste of pesto…). The open bar stocked with beer, wine, and various cocktails was also a lovely addition…

By far though, the most refreshing part of the evening was the overwhelming presence of academic and political figures (both Cuban and American), who were not afraid to speak their minds about the current situation in both countries. One of the most frustrating parts of the semester so far has been spending time in a country, all the while forming opinions about my experience with no one willing to validate or correct them, or share any of their own. Since we got here, Cubans and visiting Americans alike have been trying to walk the policy line—some more convincingly than others. Many of them seem hesitant to disagree outright with the current Cuban government, while at the same time they struggle to say something that doesn’t sound as though it came straight from a Communist Party pamphlet. We got to speak to economists and diplomats, one of whom set the record straight on a lot of Cuban “news” we’ve been hearing since we’ve got here. By far, though, the most valuable (and probably the most obvious) thing he told us was that we shouldn’t take his word for it that the American side of the story was any more accurate than the Cuban version, and that we should do our own research once we get back to the states (and out from the watchful eyes of the Cuban government’s information censoring departments). It really hammered home the fact that by no means will this experience end once we touch foot on American soil again, and that only as we learn even more after the semester’s end will we realize the true value of the time we spent here.

Back in Havana

Hello! This weekend was fantastic, albeit full of tedious traveling. Friday morning we went to the airport and took a propeller plane to Santiago, on the eastern end of the island. We took a cab through the infamous heat and beautiful greenery of eastern Cuba to our hotel, the Hotel de Las Americas (we each had our own rooms with two queen beds each, which was absolutely GLORIOUS). We didn’t spend too much time in Santiago since we had to go explore other parts of eastern Cuba, but we did get a chance to walk around at night and get a feel for the city. The architecture is completely different from Havana; the city had the vibe of a small Hispanic port city… which I guess is exactly what Santiago is. Things are definitely slower-paced, but sadly there were more beggars and “street performers” than in Havana, which I attributed to the lack of any real industry in the town, the vast majority of which is devoted to tourism. Saturday we took a bus to nearby Baconao to see and climb a giant rock called, of all things, La Gran Piedra, and then go to a small local beach.

On Sunday we said goodbye to the wonderful continental breakfast of our hotel (oh eggs, how I’d missed you so), and took a 4 hour bus ride to Baracoa. Baracoa is your average mountain town, except that the mountains are covered in dense rainforests. The city itself was quiet but beautiful, but down by the harbor (also called the Malecon there) even buildings 50 meters from the wall’s edge had been completely demolished by the waves caused by Hanna and Ike. The scenery leading up to the city was absolutely gorgeous, and along the way to the town there were small, seemingly self-sustained communities with their own pigs, chickens, etc. Many of them had jerry-rigged a pipe system to bring water from higher up on the mountain, which was really neat to see. I think it would be enlightening to live that way for a year or so; it would definitely give me a better appreciation for the people behind the scenes of my daily subsistence, and for the advancements that have been made in technology since the times when all humans lived that way. As we drove past these communities, I noticed a more concentrated collection of revolutionary and Communist Party murals than in Cuba or Santiago (which is saying a lot). It’s pretty ironic that the most agrarian communities of Cuba (and the world, when you think about it, i.e. the farmers and serfs of Cuba and Russia, respectively) are the most enthusiastic about Communism, when they are without a doubt the farthest thing imaginable from the ideal proletariat that Marx had in mind. Once we got to our hotel, we mostly just relaxed and walked around the town, knowing that we would need our energy for Monday…

We woke up around 6 on Monday to go hiking up El Yunque. In Spanish, El Yunque means “anvil,” and that’s a pretty accurate description for this plateau covered in dense greenery. The hike was unbelievably intense, and at one point we even had to ford a river. So needless to say, about halfway through the 2.5 hour uphill half, Sandra and I decided to listen to our overworked bodies and let the testosterone-driven guys continue the journey without us. A few hours later, they met us coming down the hill, and we went back to the hotel to get our belongings and begin the ride back to Santiago. On the ride back I saw a side of Cuba that I’d never seen before: its grain fields. The sun set beautifully on wide fields of crops marked by electricity poles, but the effects of the hurricanes could still be seen in missing rooms from the top levels of houses, and barren fields that once held the country’s crops. It is truly a testament to the human spirit that these farmers can persevere to provide the nation with the little food they can, despite the constant reminder that there will be a food shortage for the next six months at the least; despite the threat of another hurricane; despite the fact that they barely have enough food to feed themselves and their families; and despite the fact that the fixed prices imposed by the Cuban government in the midst of this crisis prevent them from making enough money on their goods to recoup their immense losses.

After such a relaxing vacation (and after getting back to the residencia around 1:30 in the morning), most of us didn’t feel like waking up for 8 AM class on Tuesday. So we skipped our classes and were just lounging around, when I saw an e-mail that Carmita, our “Inge away from home” sent us about a great opportunity for us. Doctor Julia Sweig, the Director of Latin American Relations for the Council on Foreign Relations in the U.S., was coming to give a speech that day about the political climate in the United States and what it would mean for relationships with Latin America and Cuba in particular. In true Cuba fashion the meeting was open to anyone who wanted to attend (in the United States Michael, Jake, and I would have needed press passes or some such nonsense).

Carmita was really excited that some of us decided to come, and as Dr. Sweig proceeded to give her speech in heavily American-accented Spanglish, I thought that nothing would make Carmita happier than if one of us asked a question during the Q&A session that was to follow. After the speech was over, five or six older Cuban men approached the microphone and asked their questions, many of which seemed to be designed to try and “trap” Dr. Sweig in some manner. (I’m not sure if this was due more to her position in such a questionably moral organization, or to the huge blow to their machismo-conditioned egos that a woman was sent as their ambassador from the United States; maybe a mix of both). Unlike Q&A sessions that I’d seen before, this one’s format was for every person to ask their questions, then have Dr. Sweig respond to them all at once… meaning I had less time than I thought I would to draft a question. After a few of the men had asked their long-winded questions preceded by paragraphs of historical context and the room sat in the momentary silence of shuffling, the moderator asked, “¿Alguién más?” and I awkwardly dashed up to the mic. In English, I thanked Dr. Sweig for coming to speak, and told her my name and what school I was from when she asked. I proceeded to ask my question in Spanish. I won’t put it all here since it was about a paragraph, but I basically asked her how she thought the removal of the embargo would influence the exchange of ideas between the two countries, rather than the exchange of goods. It’s a good thing I just went up there and did it, because had I realized beforehand that I was about to speak to, without a doubt, the most powerful person I’d ever talked to, I might have just stayed put.

Her answer to my question was nothing terribly revealing (she essentially said “yes, it will influence the exchange of ideas”), but the question of another attendee definitely opened my eyes. Though a few of the men who asked questions after me chided my question for not staying on the topic of economic development, the coordinator of the conference later asked Dr. Sweig when the lack of academic exchange would begin to subside, because, as she said “Lo sentimos. (We feel it.)” That really took me by surprise; I guess I sort of viewed myself as an unwanted intruder here, not so much as an inadequate reminder of the vibrant and healthy exchange student system that used to exist between our two countries. I agree with that woman that the free travel of academic persons should be one of the very first steps in removing the embargo; both countries have so much to learn from each other, and as long as that free exchange is stunted, all American students will “learn” about Cuba are the prejudices and distorted myths that have existed for decades.

But then after the conference the really exciting thing happened! Dr. Sweig’s research assistant on this trip, a young guy maybe 5 years older than us, came over to us and told us he’d love to grab a beer with us before they left on Saturday. We exchanged contact information, and if all goes well, hopefully we’ll get to meet with him this week. I’m really excited to talk with him about all things Cuban and American, and what the CFR thinks about it all. Strange that within a couple of months I’ve not only been able to get more involved in Cuban political happenings than I’d ever imagined, but that it’s also been easier to learn about American foreign policy straight from the horse’s mouth than it ever would be in my own country.

Various Updates

Not too much to write about since I posted those photos; I think we’re realizing that you don’t have to travel all over the province to learn while we’re here, since one conversation with any Cuban on the street is enough to give us plenty to think about.

On Monday I went with Michael to a meeting of the University Professors’ Union where they were discussing the various merits and shortcomings of Cuba’s imminent new Social Security plan. Surprisingly enough, Cuba is having an almost identical problem with their Social Security to what is happening in the U.S. The population is aging, and soon there won’t be enough young people to pay for their elders’ benefits. So the main point of the new plan is to push back the age of retirement by five years, starting next year and increasing in 6 month increments until they reach the desired age (60 for men, 55 for women). They’ve also thrown some other changes in, which suit some better than others; hence, the need to discuss potential revisions.
The process of revision goes like this: The ministry in charge of the social benefits distributes a draft of the plan to the public, through the government newspaper (the only newspaper) The Granma. People have a chance to read it, and then the various unions around the country assemble for a few months to discuss and debate about what works and doesn’t for their particular demographic. At the same time as this is going on, the same ministry that wrote the plan in the first place goes door to door in areas to take a census about what Cubans do and don’t like about the plan. Once the unions and citizens have pleaded their cases, their suggestions are sent back to the original ministry, who compiles everything and tries to accommodate as many people as possible.
Before the meeting began, the president of the Union made a sort of inspirational speech about what everyone in the room was about to do. He mentioned that in any other country in the world, even developed countries, their process would be performed by a Congress; thus, their responsibility was even greater since they were true representations of the people. I guess the people in the room had heard something to this effect before, because they didn’t seem particularly moved. To me, however, it was a true epiphany. For all of the liberties that Cuba takes away from its people, this was definitely a more legitimate manifestation of democracy than anything I have ever seen in the States. I’m sure it would be much harder to implement in the U.S., due to pure scale issues; still I’ve always thought it ridiculous that so few people, though they may be elected, have the power to control so much of our lives. I suppose it’s a result of having taken so much power away from the legislative branches of each individual state; with state congresses given their original Constitutional duties back, we would have a law-passing system very similar to the process that Cuba is currently experiencing.

There has also been progress this week with making friends with the Cuban students in our classes. It’s been a little tough until now because we float around various years and academic fields of study every day, whereas they stay in their same year and field all day, so we’re not really around them long enough to make an impression. But yesterday I talked with some students for a while, and then today when one of our professors didn’t show up, we spent the period (and some of the next) playing what is essentially charades with some of our classmates. It was a lot of fun, although the rules are a little different (there are different rules for every round, for example). The strange thing was that when the 20 or so of us returned fifteen minutes late for our next class, the professor simply let us come in without a word and began the class. Not continued. Began. For fifteen minutes she had heard us playing directly below the window of the classroom, and just passed the time until the final round was done. I’m not complaining, since I was kind of worried as the game continued that we would all be reprimanded. It was just kind of silly; I suppose she had sort of a “let kids be kids,” mentality about it.

Like I said earlier, life in Habana has become slightly less driven by the initial “Let’s go everywhere we possibly can and explore!” mentality, and the routine has gotten a bit monotonous this past week… Which is why I can’t wait for this weekend! Tomorrow morning we’re flying to Santiago, a city on the eastern side of the island. It’s a much slower way of life than in Habana, and the city seems to be frozen in the late 1800s as far as the architecture goes. Our hotel is apparently gorgeous, with a pool, gardens, and we each get our own bedroom! I have absolutely no work to do for the whole weekend, and I am more than ready to enjoy 4 days of vacation—which is funny because Cuba was supposed to be a vacation in itself. I guess I’m just really lucky; but then if there’s one thing this experience has taught me so far, that’s definitely it.

I won’t have internet at all this weekend, so until Tuesday!