With just twelve hours left until I leave this behind, I’ve come to realize that I count Cuba—Havana in particular—as one of the few places where I truly feel at ease. I don’t mean for that to mean that everything is always perfect here nor that things are easy. Every single day since I’ve arrived here I have experienced moments that absolutely infuriate me, others that humble, and others that delight.

Despite the fact that it is a political situation that has made Cuba the incredibly unique place it is, you have to put that aside if you really want to discover what Cuba is. For me, that comes down to two categories: people and places. El pueblo cubano represents the most special part of Cuba for me. From people I’ve known since February to those I just met last week, Cubans have welcomed me into their homes with a warmness that is almost impossible to imagine in the United States. That being said, in some cases my nationality has proven problematic as Cubans who spend time with yumas are often closely watched. Nevertheless, as I literally head up north to colder climates, I know that I’ll miss the warmness Cubans have provided me during my brief stay.

Ah, the places. Cuba is a beautiful island, but over everything, a place that lets itself be discovered easily. You can literally see history here. Aside from the beautiful provinces, the places I’ll miss most are scattered about Havana: the tranquility of the Malecón at sunset and at night, the constant movement of La Rampa, the absurd line at Coppelia, walking the stairs leading to the University, the grit of Centro Habana, the elegance of Miramar, the ridiculous horns people install in their cars, someone asking for the último, the history of Habana Vieja, passing through the tunnel on the P-11 to Habana del Este, the smell of fresh fruit at an agro, the sound of a máquina approaching, and the familiar faces that connect everything together.

And here I am, all packed and nearly done saying goodbye. I’m ready to go back, to be in a country where things function like a real clock, where I don’t have to resolver for everything I want to do, where my family and friends live, but also where we ignore the connections between our success and other’s failures, hardly know our neighbors, and quite frankly, waste much of our opportunities. I am going to appreciate being in the United States like I have never before, but also be more critical than ever to improve it, having seen what is capable elsewhere. The U.S. stands to learn a lot from Cuba, just as Cuba can learn a lot from the U.S. One of my goals in coming here is to help with that process. This website is just the beginning of that.

Farewell Cuba, I’ll always remember you.

Ian Yaffe
June 2, 2008 // 11:46 p.m.
La Habana, Cuba

]]> https://havana.ianyaffe.com/2008/cuba-linda/feed/ 1 https://havana.ianyaffe.com/2008/last-week/ https://havana.ianyaffe.com/2008/last-week/#comments Mon, 02 Jun 2008 12:32:41 +0000 http://yaffe.wordpress.com/?p=126 Monday, May 26 //

Let me start by saying that we’ve been having issues with my old room (E) so I’m not in a new room (X). One of the windows is broken in X and the air conditioning doesn’t work that well so I’ve been sneaking into E at night through the balcony so I can get a good night sleep. With that out of the way, I woke up in E, made my way discretely to X and then had a desayuno especial at the Costillar: fried eggs, bread añejo 7 años (also known as croutons), and some mediocre fruit. Walking town 23 and then up J, I made my way to the university arriving to my first class of the day, Latin American Philosophy, a few minutes late. Nothing a permiso won’t solve. We talked about a rare subject—race—and the difference between its conception in Latin America and the rest of the world. For the most part, the profe made great points, except when he said race is messed up in el imperio and that Mariah Carey is considered negra. Maybe I’ve been gone too long and things have changed. Anyway, after a break and return to the residence, I went again to my other class today, History of the United States. We watched “Soldier Blue” which must’ve been made in the 70s about the U.S. treatment of American Indians in the 1800s. No surprises there.

After my last class and making plans with friends to go out once I get these papers I’m not writing done, I went to Jaqueline’s to get a hamburger and to my surprise, fresh pineapple juice too. I haven’t been there in a while because franky, a pork hamburger gets old after three months, but I’ve definitely been missing out. She must’ve changed up the recipe a bit… I think I saw peppers in there! Back at the residence, I spent the afternoon “working” on my paper and more accurately, watching George Lopez. At sunset, I took a coco taxi to the Malecón and stayed there for a few hours, enjoying a Cohiba and taking pictures of one of my favorite spots in Habana. I was there so long I missed dinner! That leaves me with a Crunch bar (from Brasil) and María Integrals to munch on before I go to and hopefully, continue working on my papers.

Tuesday, May 27 //

I was supposed to begin by day with History of Latin America (1929 to today), but that was cancelled due to an event going on at the University which explicitly said it would not cancel classes. Education is really important to Cubans, except if you can find an excuse to miss class. After spending some time just hanging out at the Facultad, I made my way back to the residence to try and make some more progress on my final paper for Latin American Philosophy (due tomorrow, of course).

Lunch was at Fabio’s today—since I’m leaving early I can afford to spend $4 on pasta instead of $.50 on a mediocre sandwich. That $4 put me at $0 in my wallet though so I had to bring the last of my dollars and change them into CUCs at the bank. Unfortunately, one of the windows wasn’t open so a normal five minute transaction took a full hour. Waiting in line is one of the things I won’t be missing about Cuba… except that they do it with style. Given how much of a Cuban’s day is spent in line, there’s a system in place to ensure that you don’t actually have to wait in line, but you still keep your spot. Just go to a line and ask for el último and you’ll see what I mean. Tonight’s going to be low key. While I’ve absolutely got to finish this paper, Deadliest Catch and Alaska Experiment are on so we’ll see how that goes. Tomorrow’s my last day of work though. Regardless of whether I finish or not, I’m enjoying my last weekend here in Habana (including Thursday in true college style).

Wednesday, May 28 //

I actually managed to finish my José Martí paper and after going to the Habana Libre to print it, turned it in at my professor’s office near the University. Next stop was my favorite place for pizza, San Lazaro No. 1019 esq. Espada (esq. is short for esquina which means corner, all addresses include the neighboring streets since many buildings don’t have numbers). They have Pizza de Cebolla (onion pizza) for $10 pesos, or about 40 cents. The only downside is that you have to wait about fifteen minutes since it’s so popular. Today, that turned into an upside as I debated with another student about the best pizza and she told me that the place in her neighborhood (Santo Suarez) is better so we’re going there on Friday to prove it. That argument put me a few minutes late to my U.S. history class, but again, nothing a permiso won’t solve. I think the highlight of the class was when we were talking about the elections of 1888 and the profe said those were recognized as the most corrupt elections in U.S. history then paused and laughed, saying “well, until 2000.” Ah, U.S. history. My final assignment is to write a paper about what people in the U.S. think about Bush. I think everyone knows what Fidel and Raúl think about him.

With classes over, I returned to the residence and was on my way to the gym when it started raining, something we haven’t seen here in Habana for months. That finally pushed me to check out the gym at the residence which I had heard was terrible, but is really perfect for one person. Dinner here was similarly surprising: steak with seasoned rice. Given steak is heavily controlled by the state and seasoning absurdly expensive, dinner featured an unusually tasty combination. Actually, dinner has been really good this week. I think it’s because a group is back that complained the bad food was a form of discrimination against feminists. I spent a few brief seconds thinking about the paper I’m not going to turn in tomorrow before getting to work on compiling all the things I’ve learned here so I can make a guide when I get back. This time in a week, I’ll be in Canada!

Thursday, May 29 //

Since my only class of the day—History of Latin America (1929-today)—was cancelled, I walked over to Coppelia where there’s a guy who rents mopeds. Transportation has greatly improved here over the past few months, but with just a few days left on my trip here, time is very important so having the moped will allow me to save about four or five hours of traveling time per day. First stop was a cruise down Malecón to catch a picture of el Morro (the fortress that’s across the harbor) and then make my way to Plaza de Armas. One of the buildings in the plaza houses a pretty sweet museum of the history of Habana. It even has Havana’s first fire engine! From there, I walked to the artisan’s market, bought a painting, and went back to the Residence to drop it off.

I set off for lunch in Barrio Chino, but made a detour to the Museo de Ron (Rum Museam) in Habana Vieja by Plaza San Francisco. The museam doubles as a Havana Club distillery (on a very small scale) allowing visitors to see the whole process from start to finish and of course, sample the goods at the end. For those of you who know Cuba, I’m talking Añejo 7 Años. Being that I was in the area, I stopped in the Bar Dos Hermanos, Habana’s oldest bar which had excellent camarones enchilados, sautéed shrimp in a Caribbean tomato based sauce. You can be assured I’ll be eating well these last few days.

Back at the residence, I found out I was still in Cuba, discovering that I would—yet again—be changing rooms for some obscure reason. Accomplishing that task, I set off for the Malecón to see the sunset and then to the Meliá Cohiba hotel to get some wireless internet (don’t worry, still dial-up). After running into another group of U.S. students (form USC), I went back up Avenida de los Presidentes to the Residence and showed Gloria (the lady who works at the front desk) all my pictures of Cuba since this will be the last time I see her before I leave. She’s been out of Habana a few times making her a very well traveled Cuban, but in four months, I’ve visited more places across the island than she has her whole life. While transportation has vastly improved in recent years, it’s still difficult for Cubans to travel because if they don’t know someone where they’re going, they won’t have anywhere to stay (hotels and casas are just too expensive and Cubans truly don’t have extra room in their houses to start).

Friday, May 30 //

After a less than stellar breakfast at the Costillar (at least we had huevos a la orden), I gave Gloria a ride back to her apartment and made my way over to the Hotel Nacional to meet Lt. Commander Rod Rojas of the U.S. Coast Guard whose title here in Havana is “Drug Interdiction Specialist.” As the only U.S. official—military or civilian—who has direct contact with Cuban officials, his job expands to meet nearly all needs that come up regarding international law enforcement. We talked about his job here and his career as a Coast Guard Officer, confirming my desire to apply for Officer Candidate School next fall. Who would’ve thought I’d reach that decision in Havana?

By the time I got back to the residence it was already noon and given that I have a lot to do today and tomorrow, I had to get started. First stop on my Havana list was Casa Natal de José Martí, the birth house of José Martí. The architecture reminded me a lot of Trinidad and the museum had just the perfect amount of information to make it a worthwhile yet quick stop. Continuing upon that theme, I made my way the Plaza de la Revolución which holds the Monumento José Martí. Since I’d already been to the museum before, I went through the exhibits quickly so I could go up to the top of the monument to the mirador de La Habana. For that you get a certificate acknowledging that you’ve been to the highest point in Havana, a seriously great view.

I spent the rest of the afternoon cruising around the streets of Miramar, what I think of as the country club section of Havana. After the majority of owners fled Cuba in the 1960s, many of their homes were converted to embassies and official offices that are very well maintained. Being in this section reminds you of how rich the elite of Cuba were in the 50s, but also of how unequal Cuban society remains today. The highlight of my visit was probably lunch at the Meliá Habana Hotel which has—hands down—the best burgers in Cuba, but I also stopped by Club Habana (the former yacht club for rich Cubans which is now just a yacht club for rich foreigners), Marina Hemingway (a massive marina that is almost always empty since nobody from the U.S. can visit it anymore), and Karl Marx Theater.

How could I forget my quick picture of the clock at Fifth Avenue and Tenth Street? You’re not allowed to park on Fifth, but since part of the sidewalk is collapsed, I just left my moped there to take the picture and just when I came back was stopped by a cop, who promptly saluted me. He told me I just took my most expensive picture of Havana and was going to have to pay the state a multa (fine) of $30 CUC before I left. When I showed him my carné (Cuban ID) he said he could give me a break for $15, but he ran out of tickets for $15 so he had to try for $5. I don’t really understand what he said to his partner next, but he said I could just go, but should come back with beer and rum for them since they were going to have to work all day (5 hours). Ahh, Cuba.

After dinner and trip to the gym on the roof of the residence, I came back to my new room and unpacked so I can figure out what I’m leaving here and what I need to take back. I bought way too many books. This’ll be interesting.

Saturday, May 31 //

I got a relatively early start to the day, arriving across the harbor at about 10:30 to the La Cabaña Fortress and Havana’s lighthouse. The first chunk of my visit was spent at the guardhouse, talking to the guards about U.S. politics and what this upcoming election means for Cuba. I am convinced that Cubans follow our election closer than we do and probably know more about it than the average U.S. citizen. The majority are Obama supporters with that group split into two sectors: one thinking that he will open the doors for Cuba and the other understanding that any change in U.S. relations will be slow. With the clock ticking, I made it to the fortress and saw the great views of Havana offered by its lighthouse.

On my way over to the Christ statue, I ran into a set of Soviet missiles ominously pointed north, not too far away from some canons. I don’t even know how to explain it, but that sight was just so absurd to me that I had to take a picture. The Christ statue has another great view of Havana, this time extending well into the bay where the commercial shipping operations are. What was supposed to be an easy five minute trip back to Havana Vieja through the tunnel ended up taking me two hours since the police wouldn’t let me through on a moped (even though it’s faster that half the things on the road). Instead, I had to wait for an hour and a half for the ciclobus which is essentially a really old bus with the seats removed so you can stand with a bike inside it. Just love that inefficiency! I wouldn’t be disappointed next either, waiting over an hour for my Cuban-Chinese food in Barrio Chino. Lo Mein, sort of.

After a brief stop at the residence, I then made my way to the Necrópolis Colón, a huge cemetery that should be more accurately described as a municipality. My two key stops there were the Firefighter’s memorial (constructed after the deadly 1890 fire) and the American Legion memorial. Seeing anything about the U.S. is always interesting in Cuba. My plans to go out were put on hold by rain (everything in Havana closes when it rains) so instead I went through my photos from the past few days and worked a bit more on thinking about packing.

Sunday, June 1 //

First of all, I can’t believe it’s already June! With that in my mind as I woke up, I got an early start to the day and made my way to Luyanó to get some jugo de tamarindo and sweet-talk the shop owner into selling me one of their glasses made from old Havana Club bottles. Driving around Habana for the last time, I just took in the sights on the way back to Vedado where I had to turn in my moped. For some reason there wasn’t a line at Coppelia so I enjoyed an ensalada especial of vanilla, literally a “special salad” this is the $5 peso gigantic bowl of ice cream that Cubans wait hours for. Needless to say, I lost my appetite for lunch which ended up helping me out so I could walk around Habana Vieja without having to wait two hours for food at a restaurant.

I really enjoy the atmosphere of Habana Vieja and how you can swerve out of the impeccably restored streets of Mercaderes and Obispo to see the “real” Habana just two blocks away where it doesn’t look anything’s been done to the buildings since 1959. For the first time I brought my camera along with me which was a good idea so I can show people what this place looks like, but also a terrible one since I had to explain why I didn’t want cigars at every corner I passed. Ahh, the hustlers. While I took in all the sights I wanted to see, I was anxious to get back to Vedado and shed my camera and with that, the only visual clue that I’m a foreigner.

I skipped the Costillar dinner tonight and took the P-9 to Santo Suarez to get what a friend of mine from the University told me is the best pizza in Havana. Luckily the stand is just a block away from her abuela’s house so we had plenty of time to enjoy it (she was right by the way). Over coffee produced in Miami (she has family there), we talked about the two Cubas that have interested me since long before I touched Cuban soil—one that is reserved for foreigners and one that is reserved for Cubans. Only a few groups of people get to cross those boundaries: international students and Cubans with family abroad or who work in the tourist sectors. What links these three groups of people? Take a guess. Money.

Riding the P-6 back to Vedado, I realized I’m really going to miss this place beyond my imagination. While I expect to return to Havana in the near future, I don’t see myself living here again and certainly not as a student. Between all the problems that Cuba has and people who have to resolver everyday, there’s something that I’ve found here that I haven’t ever experienced much elsewhere—alma (soul).

Monday morning I was supposed to begin the school week but due to some early morning rain, none of the Cubans showed up and classes were either extremely shortened or cancelled all together. When it rains here people pretty much stay inside since many can’t afford an umbrella and it’s really too hot to wear a rain coat. Still, it was my first “rain day” and I was quite amused (and annoyed since I still woke up early to get there).

Tuesday morning it also rained but we had to brave the weather to get to the train station early to buy our tickets for this weekend. Unfortunately, it seems like taxis don’t really run when it rains so it took about 30 minutes of standing in the rain to get a cab. After about two hours in line the ticket agency opened up so we could sit down in the waiting room and continue enjoy waiting to buy tickets for another hour when they’d start selling them. Overall we had to wait about 5 hours to buy train tickets but since they were in Cuban pesos I don’t really have many regrets. First-class on the “special” train which includes a snack goes for 72 pesos or 3 dollars. Not bad. Yet, many Cubans don’t travel because once they arrive somewhere new if they don’t have family or friends, they won’t be able to afford to stay anywhere.

Today I continued the trend of traveling as we went on a trip to Playa Girón, part of the Bay of Pigs area famous for the battle that occurred there nearly fifty years ago. Cubans are obviously proud of the Bay of Pigs because they defeated the United States in a military battle—the first country to do so in the world. I’d compare it to the Battle of 1812 in the U.S. The Bay of Pigs confirmed Cuba’s status as a free country that could govern its own affairs even at the expense of U.S. interests. I still don’t know a lot about the history of Bay of Pigs and look forward to learning more about it. My understanding previously is that we lost because Kennedy would not allow air support and we basically let 1,200 Cuban exiles on their own in a battle they could not possibly win.

The side of the story told here is that we did provide some air support, but Cuba still triumphed over el imperialismo yanki. Cuba still likes to display bits of evidence documenting that the U.S. was behind Bay of Pigs (like a uniform or wreckage)—a fact that confuses me because I don’t believe that we’ve ever tried to cover up our involvement (at least after we lost and it was overwhelmingly obvious who supported who). The peace agreement after the battle is what really interests me: Cuba simply sent the prisoners back in exchange for $7 million worth of supplies like baby food.

At any rate, after visiting two museums, we spent the afternoon at Playa Larga, enjoying the tropical seas and cooling sea breeze. Again, you’ll have to see pictures of this to imagine just how beautiful it is. Tomorrow, I’ll board the 7:00 Tren Especial with a destination of Santiago de Cuba. If all goes well, we’ll arrive at 7:00 Saturday morning ready to begin our 7-day recorrido of the eastern provinces. El Oriente, as the region is called, was the birthplace to the Revolution and is rich with history. We’ll hope to visit Baracoa, Bayamo, and Pico Turqunio while we’re there. If the train gets in on time, we’ll get to go to Game 5 of the play-offs between Santiago and Ciego de Avíla. Until I get back, keep emailing and enjoy the beginnings of spring up north.

Aside from a weekend of great food, I’ve been exploring a few more parts of the city as I prepare for several trips out of Havana. On Friday we went to a cigar factory where I enjoyed a Cohiba in their ultra-swank cigar room with bone-chilling air conditioning. Afterwards, we walked around the inside of the Capitolio which is used for tours now instead of housing the National Assembly which wouldn’t fit the old halls. The building is designed after the U.S. Capital complete with two sides and a central dome (see pictures on Flickr). The first thing you’ll notice walking in is a huge (three-story) statue of what I imagine is lady justice or liberty. There’s also a glass case built into the exact center of the floor which used to house a diamond until that was stolen by a senator in the 30s (the stone in the middle is a replica). Walking through the building we visited the ornate hallways, meeting rooms, and library which functions to this day and is open to use from Cubans. I think I’ll be able to get in there with my carné so I may try and study there one day. I also have to visit the building again to go on a guided tour which allows you to sit in the President’s chair for a photo op in the old meeting room of the National Assembly.

It’s rained the past two nights in a row so we’ve stayed at the Residence. The journalists left yesterday and now there’s a group of writers from 14 different countries in America here for the next week. Hopefully that means we’ll get an official welcome party tomorrow night! If not, we’ll certainly get one the next week when the new group of journalists arrives for the next class beginning on April 2. Looking ahead towards the future, I’m planning on going to Matanzas next week for a trip to experience santería and in a few weeks I hope to go to the Oriente for a whole week to visit Santiago de Cuba, the Sierra Maestra, Guantanamo, and Baracoa. Now I’ve got to finish up a paper on Brasil under president Getúlio Vargas.

I took advantage of my first Friday off by taking a guagua to Guanabo, a beach not more than 15 miles from the center of Havana. It took us about an hour to get there which is on the short side of things since we made caught a bus within minutes of getting to each stop. As I’ve mentioned before, they were packed. This time more so than I’ve seen before. On one of them the fare collector had to push people away so we could get moving and then eventually once we were going full speed people got far enough away from the doors that they could close. The 30 minute ride on the 400 from the Navy Hospital just after the Tunnel from Habana Vieja to Habana del Este was most memorable when we passed a slower moving 400 bus and we got to shout out to the other people about how fast our bus was going.

We first got some pizza and later some fried rice with ham (refreshingly delicious) as we were looking for the other students we were supposed to meet. They didn’t have nearly as much luck as we did getting to Guanabo and it took them about an hour and a half longer than us. Not to mention they were on a separate part of the beach. You don’t make plans in Cuba—you just do things together from start to finish because if you try and make plans, something will inevitably happen to mess them up. Either way, we had a great time at the beach. I’ve never been in an ocean that warm not to mention in March. Hopefully it won’t take me too long to adjust to the Atlantic in New England! Speaking of New England—we talked about that in my U.S. History class including the Quakers who are called los cuaqueros here (pronounced Quack-er-os).

Yesterday, I got up early (a las 7) to run my first maratón. About eight of us went and at first we thought it was cancelled with we couldn’t find anybody at the University. Resigned to go back to the Residence and put another page into the “you-can’t-make-plans-in-Cuba” book, we finally found a huge group of students (between 1 and 2 thousand) and music playing at the makeshift starting line. After showing our meet (carné=ID card / carne=meet… I know it’s dumb, but whatever I find it amusing) proving our eligibility to run in the race and sign up to rep our facultad, the race started at 9:45. 10 minutes later, we were at the finish line. Yeah that’s right—I ran a marathon in 10 minutes. I guess Cuban marathons are a little shorter than what we normally think of a marathon.

This afternoon we’re traveling across the city in a quest to find the only Mexican food in Havana. In other news—my first set of pictures is up on Flickr. You can check them out at http://www.flickr.com/photos/ianyaffe or click the side bar on the right. They’re best viewed as a set so click on “Cuba I” to see the full thing. Until next time…

PS – the internet froze when I tried to put this up the first time so the Mexican food quest continues. Apparently the place we went to only has Mexican food on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. We got some “burgers” which I’m pretty sure didn’t come from a cow, but were very tasty and then went to get ice cream at Coppelia. Unfortunately, something (Cuba) happened and after an hour in line, they closed down and we had to get ice cream at the tourist stands—an unthinkable price of 60 cents for a cone… More soon.

Still, there’s plenty to miss back in the US. In addition to friends and family, I find myself missing most the variety of food that we can easily obtain at nearly any hour of the day. Food here can be wonderful, but the most noticeable thing about it is a lack of spice. I can’t wait to get a burrito again and have hot sauce at my disposal.

The reason I’m writing today is because of a reality check I had about life in Cuba for Cubans. For extranjeros, I can imagine few places more unique and beautiful to visit (not to mention economical). Cubans on the other hand, live a truly difficult life and are not allowed free access to travel, the internet, and conversation with foreigners. I have been asked for my carné (identification) every day now for the past three days. The first time was as I was trying to get into the Habana Libre hotel to buy something in their store (Cubans are not allowed inside the hotel). Today, I was sitting on the steps of the University with four white students from the United States and a police officer motioned to me (and only me) to come over and talk to him. Once I showed my carné proving that I am an extranjero, I was free to go about my way.

The plus side to this is that I never have trouble getting a máquina and never get hassled to pay for something in CUCs when that same item is available in pesos cubanos. Still, the heavy police presence here and everyday restrictions placed on Cubans shed light on some of the negative aspects of the Revolution. At the end of the day, you have to compare positive and negative aspects of the Revolution and make your own call on whether or not you think it’s a good or bad thing. My only hope is that at the end of my experience here I’ll be closer to being able to make that call with some type of objectivity and authority.

Some other students were going to take the train to Cienfuegos only to find out when they arrived there at 6:00 a.m. that it only runs every other day. These types of things are common in Cuba where public transportation is fairly well developed (Cuba is the only Caribbean island with a train), but almost impossible to understand at best. To travel between provinces there are four options: airplane, train, bus, or hacer la botella (hitchhiking). Hitchhiking is such an important part of getting around Cuba that along the highway you will find amarillos or cops who are empowered to stop traffic so people can get a ride. By holding out a few pesos though, you’ll get picked up pretty quickly.

Public transportation in the city is extremely developed, but seems to lack a central planning system that would publish things like route maps or timetables. Most tourists will take tourist taxis (including the coco taxis which are sort of a motorcycle with two seats in the back… google it and you’ll see what I mean) for about $1 CUC per person (convertible peso which is valued slightly higher than the U.S. dollar). That price makes it obviously impossible for Cubans to take taxis as we know them.

Unless you’re walking or hitch hiking, you’ll have to ask around to figure out how to use the most common types of public transportation: collective taxis and buses. Máquinas (collective taxis) travel a fixed route and pick up passengers (Cubans and residents only) on the way charging $10 pesos cubanos (less than 50 cents) for the trip. Guagua is the term Cubans use for the local buses that travel all over the city. While there is clearly a system that the guaguas follow, there are no published schedules or maps and bus stop signs are only found here and there. Instead of looking up a time table and going to the nearest bus stop, you just walk around and ask people to give you advice and eventually you’ll find yourself at a cola (line) for that particular bus.

The next step is to ask for the último (basically who’s last) and once you find that person you become the último yourself (for a few minutes until the next person comes). This is the Cuban way of being in line without actually having to stand in line. Finally, among the guaguas there is a sub-section that called camellos. A camello is a Brazilian built semi cab with a Cuban built passenger section that crudely resembles a camel because of its distinctive humps. All buses are $1 peso cubano or less for the trip and they will be filled beyond capacity so prepare to get comfy.

With this understanding of public transportation, you can begin to make your journey anywhere in the city or across provinces (there are special inter-provincial buses for tourists and it might just be worth paying for them). On Sunday, I took the P-11 to the 400 which runs along the Habana del Este province home of a few great beaches. We visited the more “authentic” one called Guanabo which is almost devoid of tourists. While it was pretty windy (think sandstorm), it was great to relax on the beach for a few hours in the beginning of March and in the middle of a semester.

Today it was back to class—sort of. Classes here run on the same type of system as the guaguas so you never really know what to expect. Students generally have to wait for the professor—no matter how late he or she is—unless they have heard otherwise. There’s no ten minute rule here so we waited about 45 minutes until we gave up and went to lunch. Don’t get me wrong on this one. There are few places in the world that I think place as high a value on education as Cuba does, certainly not the United States. It’s just things notoriously happen at the last minute here so the schedule is more of a guideline than a regulation. Of nine classes I was scheduled to have in the past week, two were cancelled and two met at a different time.

Check out the classes section of this site for more info on the classes I’m taking. Also, I’m expecting about 60 pictures to go up online by the end of the week. Until then, I hope everything is going well wherever you are and look forward to hearing from you.

The big news this week—for me, at least—is that classes started at the University of Havana. I’m in six right now and by next week will have to limit it to five: Latin American Philosophy, Sociology of Education, Political Sociology, History of Cuba (1920-1959), History of Latin America (1930-today), and History of the United States. Professors here are incredibly engaging and classes are a lot livelier than what I’ve seen to be the average back home. Several times per class everyone will just start talking at the same time to bring their perspective to a contested issue. Another thing you should know about Cubans is that when they get excited about a topic, their voice raises and it appears that they may be on the verge of throwing fists.

Another thing I’ve noticed about Cubans is that they are incredibly well-informed of international events (despite communications limitations imposed by the Cuban government and U.S. blockade) and how those events connect back to the island. The class president for FEU (University Students Federation) is in one of my classes and made a great point: “You have to stay informed, but more importantly, you have to analyze what you hear. There is no such thing as an objective source.”

The FEU is a very important part of life here in Cuba—both within and outside of the university campus—and it organizes everything from conferences, intramural sports, lectures, social events, and exchanges (this weekend there will be an exchange between the U.S. students here and Cubans because of how biased perspectives are between the two countries). I talked to him a little bit about how student government works in the U.S. and at Bowdoin and he was very disappointed—especially about our elections in which nobody votes and hardly anybody runs. Here student government has policy implications on a university, municipal, provincial, and national level (FEU elects one of its members to the National Assembly each year).

I’ve been meeting a lot of incredible people here—both Cubans and other international students. The University of Havana has international reach and for this I’ve already had classes with students from Peru, Zimbabwe, Brazil, the Dominican Republic, Germany, the United Kingdom, and Angola, just to name a few. Many of these students are here for free because Cuba believes that everyone should have access to education, not just the privileged. Other people I’ve met include the parents of Cuba’s former ambassador to Bolivia and Haiti who now runs one of the ministries and the wife of one of the Cuban 5 (you should look that one up and make your own conclusions).

Over everything, Cubans live a humble life. The President of the University lives next door to shop keepers and laborers in nearly identical conditions. For his high position, he is rewarded with a car (which we got to borrow the other day). You’d be hard pressed to find a place where people are on such an equal footing than in Cuba. Yes, they are poor and opportunities can be considered limiting. I haven’t been able to find the kind of poverty that exists in the U.S. and other “first-world” countries though so like everything, you have to make a judgment on whether or not that is a good thing. The U.S. blockade of Cuba has made things very difficult here so it’s hard to say what life would be like if the current system were in place and the blockade not. Some things would be better, others the same, and others worse. U.S. development brings progress to other countries, but as we’ve learned, it also brings a lot of terrible consequences such as class conflict and environmental degradation. As I fully acknowledge that the blockade is inhumane, I also feel so lucky to be in a place where McDonald’s doesn’t exist and you can travel 15 minutes from the center of the city and be in the country side.

This is just the beginning of my thoughts about la situación cubana and as I continue to learn—and analyze—I’ll update things here. Hopefully in the next few weeks I’ll get some pictures put up so just keep an eye on the side bar on the right and if it looks like Cuba, there’ll be about 60 others on my Flickr site.