Almost Gone

As I get ready to leave Cuba, it's time to say goodbye to some things I didn't write about, but which nevertheless I'm fond of. I'll be leaving behind Roberto's fantastic Creole cooking. The dinners he produced with a seemingly inherited ability to create amazing flavours were always a high point of my day. I won't again be waking up in the near future with the sound of salsa on the neighbour's stereo drifting through the windows. Walking down the street I won't pass dozens of people wolfing down the unofficial national food — cake. Or stare hungrily at an entire icing-covered cake being carried away from the dirty street-facing window of a tiny bakery.

I will have to say goodbye to the charismatic Afro-Cuban religion, where lit cigarettes are placed in the mouths of statues of saints so that they smoke during ceremonies, where there is a black Madonna, and where rum is drunk in place of wine. I will leave behind the local slang, where a tourist is called "juma" and money is "guaniquiki". And finally, I will tearfully bid farewell to the nickname I was given by Roberto and Francisco when I started staying at their house: papichuli.

Welcome to First Grade

There's an American building along the waterfront in Havana, possibly the only one in all of Cuba with the exception of those at Guantanamo Bay. Named the "Building of American Interests", it's where Cubans go for any US-related business — for example, to wade through the long process of getting a visa if a relative has invited them to visit. And also, someone in charge there may have been hoping, to break free the chains of Cuban state-controlled news and opinion.

Taking full advantage of its property, the building put up large pro-America, anti-Fidel propaganda signs outside. This of course didn't sit too well with the Cuban government, which responded by encircling the building with black banners to hide the signs. It also stationed police officers to move along anybody mulling about hoping to get a peak around the banners.

I'm not sure if the signs are there simply to irritate Fidel or an honest attempt at influencing the opinions of Cubans who walk by the building. Whatever the case, the fact that the dialogue between the two governments is at this level is hilarious.

A Different Way to Unwind

Here's something new I learnt tonight: take a Cuban coffee — strong, black, served in a tiny espresso mug — mix in some cream rum, add a cigar, sit out on the balcony of a house overlooking the street, and relax and talk. You now have a combination that's a lot tastier than a night out on Red Bull + vodka mixed with other people's cigarette smoke.