Sunset brought much needed relief to the weather and another surprise: fresh fish for dinner. I knew we were going to have Red Snapper, but it was served to us high-class restaurant-style, that is, whole. I don’t doubt that the fish had been swimming just a few hours earlier. Delicious! You truly eat well when you stay in a Casa Particular, particularly when you get outside of the major cities and people go out of their way to please you because face it, there just aren’t as many tourists. Interestingly, Julio Muñoz has become famous enough that he has to turn people away! He’s so popular in Trinidad that other Cubans will impersonate him in order to get people to stay at their houses. This popularity rewards him and he says he’s able to support three families with his income, not to mention he’s the first Cuban I saw to sleep with air conditioning.

The evening made it a little easier to walk around and I got a chance to explore this city, from its cobblestone streets to brightly colored houses. The best part, as you’ll soon see in my photos, was the view from Julio’s roof. A combination of brick roofs, palm trees, blue skies, and a backdrop of mountains made that a pretty cool place to hang out. Of course, nighttime was upon us and we headed out to see Trinidad’s music scene. With Cuba Libres in hand, we enjoyed the quick beats of Cuban salsa on a grand outdoor escalinata (staircase) leading to the top of the local Casa de Musica.

Next morning (after, of course, a great breakfast), we made our way to Parque Cubano, a small park on the outskirts of town that has a very cool waterfall. We spent the morning there, hiking to the waterfall and then having fun jumping into the refreshingly cold water from some quasi-cliffs above. The afternoon was spent wandering more of Trinidad and checking out a few museums. From the perspective of how deteriorated Habana is, Trinidad is really a miracle. We walked through houses that were centuries old and carried their original furniture and paintings. I also got to accomplish a mission that I’ve had since I arrived here: find the Trinidad library and see if a collection of books from the Brunswick-Trinidad Sister Association arrived. Mentioning the state of Maine was enough and the librarians immediately thanked the association for their generous donation and went about showing me how everything was being used. Libraries remain a very important place in Cuba as often the only place to get information about the world. Books are like fruit here: they only run in season (printed once) and once they’re gone, you have to wait until next year to taste them (also know as another edition). That being said, if the state doesn’t like oranges, you’ll probably only find apples for sale.

The next morning, we got up early to take the bus back westward, this time to Cienfuegos, literally translating to one hundred fires and sometimes even written 100 fuegos. Although many places were renamed after the Revolution, Cienfuegos predates it by many years and is not in honor of the revolutionary hero Camilo. Traveling there from Trinidad is especially important in a historical sense for the destiny of each town is intertwined. Trinidad is one of the oldest towns in Cuba and like other places, was founded first for the safety its harbor offered the Spanish fleet (and later pirates). Not too much later however, the Spanish encountered Cienfuegos Bay which is vastly superior to Trinidad and since then the city has prospered at Trinidad’s expense. It is for this precise reason that Trinidad remained colonial-looking while Cienfuegos developed, ironically turning Trinidad into a much more attractive tourist destination and bringing prosperity again to the town.

Walking from the bus terminal, the first thing I noticed was how clean the city was. It really reminded me of Santiago de Cuba. Surprise, surprise! In the center of Cienfuegos is Plaza Martí which is surrounded my many beautifully restored buildings including a church, theater, and college. From there we headed to the edge of the bay, but first by walking along Avenida 54 which is heavily commercialized (with CUC stores) and reminded me a lot of Malecón in Puerto Vallarta. Along the way to Punta Gorda, I couldn’t help by notice a Yacht Club with something you don’t see often in Cuba—yachts. I could see the masts of what must have been several sailboats longer than forty feet each and in the distance, a 100 plus foot mega yacht flying a Bahamas flag. Despite the Helms-Burton act, international tourists still manage to get to Cuba in what’s probably the most rewarding way possible: by sea. Punta Gorda is most notable for the “jewel of Cienfuegos,” the Palacio de Valle, with incredible views and some really good lemonade (con Havana Club, por supuesto).

Taking a horse wagon back into town, I made my way to the bus station where I knew I’d be able to find a Cuban with a car who wanted a few CUCs in exchange for a ride to Santa Clara, one hour away. Paying $15 CUC, I got the ride there along with two Cubanas who drove another taxi driver crazy. He tried to get them to go with him, but they refused noting that the girl he was interested in had two husbands and to hang out with her, “hay que tener una casa y dinero.” That sent him walking back to the station to try and catch some other tourists for a ride. The cubanas got out at their house on the way as I continued north to Santa Clara.

Arriving in Santa Clara, I became immediately aware that it is both the center point of transportation in Cuba yet doesn’t really seem geared towards tourists at any sense. The two sites of importance to me there were the Plaza de la Revolución with the Che memorial and the Tren Blindado, the monument to one of Batista’s trains that Che derailed, giving him control of the city and therefore, the entire east of the Island. For people from Santa Clara, Che is the hero they trump—while he was a part of Fidel’s movement, they credit him with their freedom.

That brings me to an important question: Do Cubans support Fidel and Raúl or is this all just a political stunt orchestrated by a dictator? Obviously, the answer is not simple. You’ll find more discontent in the cities where opportunities are truly limited and exposure to foreigners creates a sense of relative deprivation. Of course, in those same cities you’ll find plenty of true loyal supporters to the revolution and many who are living quite comfortable (meaning they have access to dollars) be it through family connections abroad, work in the tourist sector, or high-level government jobs. Out in the country though, more people support the government because they are the ones who benefit most from it. A campesino is a lot better off today under Raúl than 50 years ago under Batista. While there is widespread discontent with the government (less than in La Yuma though), a large majority of the population here recognizes the tangible benefits that the Revolution has brought them.

And here I am—beginning my last week in Habana after a four month journey. I can’t believe I’m at this point and just as I’m excited to go home, I’m beginning to understand how much I’ll miss the Island that’s welcomed me as if it were home. Just as I’ll take a part of Cuba with me up north, a part of me will always stay here.

Saturday morning I was up early again, this time to head across the island to Punta Frances, the southwest corner of the island that is inaccessible by road and today largely hosts a nature preserve. To get there, we took a taxi to El Colony and then boarded an old 40 foot Sportfisher which took us the rest of the way by sea. It was great to be out on the water again (as opposed to stuck inside the ferry). The beach site we were at used to be very popular when the Spanish Oceanliner Pulmantur made weekly stops here, but since that vessel was bought by a U.S. firm it is no longer allowed to touch Cuban waters (Helms-Burton Act). The positive side of that transaction is that the beach is completely empty. We spent the morning snorkeling and then after convincing the Captain that my Firefighter’s ID included SCUBA certification, I departed for an afternoon dive in one of the many coral reefs that surround the area.

I should start by saying that I’ve never been diving before, but heard that Cuban waters were something not to be passed up. After a five minute crash-course, I jumped off the stern of our boat and after deflating my vest, began to descend into the reef. It took a few (excruciating) moments to get used to the pressure, but after then I enjoyed all 48 minutes that I stayed under water. Think about all those ridiculous pictures of absurdly blue waters and ridiculously beautiful fish that you’ve seen in magazines and on the internet. It was just like that.

Back in Nueva Gerona, the time for the second amazing part of the day was nearing: our surf and turf dinner (off the black market, of course). We shared four lobsters and at least two pounds of steak for the five of us (plus all the fixings)! With a long day of being on the beach and walking around town behind us, we went to bed early to begin our return trip at 6:30 a.m. on Sunday, arriving back in Havana without too much difficulty by 1:30 p.m. The rest of the week went by without too much event… until today that is.

May 1–Día de los Trabajadores—is one of three major holidays in Cuba (in addition to July 26 and January 1). Pretty much everything gets shut down as people prepare to march on the Plaza de la Revolución. By 6:30 a.m., the streets are bustling with activity as people converge on starting points for the various routes that take people right to the José Martí monument in the center of the city. I met up with other students from Filosofía e Historia and by 7:30 a.m., the march had begun. The colors of the day are red, white, and blue (the colors of the Cuban flag) and loud speakers carry revolutionary chants across the city.

More of a time to relax and socialize, the only real moment where everyone seemed to be actively participating in the march was passing under the watchful eyes of Raúl and other top government figures, some of whom use binoculars to better see the crowd. That isn’t to say that people don’t support the State, but as you can imagine, there’s only so many times you can say ¡Viva Raúl! or ¡Viva Cuba Libre! before it gets repetitive. Nevertheless, when the FEU was called, my entire section went crazy for about a minute, waving Cuban flags and shouting revolutionary chants.

I ran into one of my friends who is a Chilean journalist and managed to take my camera and get an incredibly close-up picture of Raúl himself (who is in the center of the whole event). After then, the march just sort of ended and people go their own ways, but I stayed around for a few extra minutes to see two important groups: the medical students (a few of whom flew U.S. flags) and trabajadores sociales (social workers) who flew hundreds of Cuban flags and street sized banners with slogans including one with Fidel’s picture. By evening, most of the events had finished and things were quiet as people got some much needed rest from such an early start. That’s what I’m about to do. Until next time.

Day 2: El Tren “Especial” & Santiago de Cuba // Even in first-class, the deteriorating seats made it hard to find a good spot to sleep. The conductor made that even harder by demanding we eat our merienda (snack) at 1:30 a.m. just after many had finally fallen asleep. The train was making a slow pace but at least we were moving. At 10:00 a.m. we arrived at the half-way point and the day continued at a slow pace—and a hot one once the air conditioning began to fail around noon. At 4:00 p.m. the engine broke again and as we waited on the tracks, the operator said we’d just have to wait for a new one. I wandered off to see how far from Santiago we were, but as I was away we literally hitched a ride with another train and I had to run and jump on just as we started moving again. At 6:30 we finally arrived at our destination: 10 hours waiting to buy tickets, 5 hours waiting to board, and a 20 hour trip for less than the distance between Boston and Washington, D.C. It was all worth it though for we finally made it there. I “checked in” to the casa particular that I’d be staying in ($20 per night for two people with breakfast included). We wandered around the city a bit, saw the view from the top of a hotel, and then finally got a good night’s rest.

Day 3: Santiago de Cuba // On April 13 I had the best breakfast I’ve had since leaving the United States—Ester (the owner of the house) cooked us delicious eggs, tomatoes, mangoes, coffee, fresh bread, and better. I knew it would be a good day after that. Our first stop of the day would be Cuartel Moncada, the military base where the Revolution began on July 26, 1953. The gun shots on the outside of it still remain though they’re rumored to be replacements since Batista has the building cleaned up after Fidel’s failed assault. Today, the building serves as a school and a museum of which we had a private guided tour (for free) since we were students. We also visited the Museo de la Lucha Clandestina (Museum of the Underground Fight) which used to house a police station and now has information about all of the sabotage efforts that the 26 July Movement used to overthrow Batista. The rest of the day I spent with some friends who worked at a bookstore near our residence and sampled the local food.

Day 4: Baracoa // We left Santiago at 7:45 a.m. aboard Víazul (the tourist bus) for a five hour trip through the mountains and Guantánamo province to the first settlement of Cuba, Baracoa. I was amazed our bus made it through those mountain roads, but we still arrived on time and without any hassle—something that wouldn’t have been possible if we were traveling under our Cuban residency. Unfortunately, that also meant the entire town of Baracoa seemed to come and greet us at the bus station offering taxi rides (on bikes) and cheap rooms for the night. Add in the oppressively hot weather and it was nearly impossible to breathe. I finally found a place to stay for a great price since I was a temporary resident and student. Our first stop was the Bahía de Miel and the black sand beaches that line the town. Afterwards, we enjoyed coconut ice cream with a cup of fresh melted chocolate (a specialty of Baracoa) for about 5 cents. For dinner, we went to an old fort right on the Bahía de Baracoa that was completely deserted, but well staffed. After about an hour, my Enchilada de camarones (shrimp in a tomato base) showed up and we enjoyed the ocean breeze.

Day 5: Baracoa & Santiago // Being one of the easternmost parts of Cuba, Baracoa has the privilege of seeing the sun 45-minutes earlier than Havana and for that occasion I woke up at 6:00 a.m. Despite a bit of cloud cover, it was a pretty impressive sight and equally impressive was to see the town wake up along with the sun and begin moving around by 6:45. My next stop was to get on the lista de espera (standby list) for the 2:00 bus back to Santiago and then enjoy breakfast before biking around the town. There’s not too much to do in Baracoa so I think I spent the right amount of time there. Still, I got a chance to see the monument to Hatuey (the first American rebel who led a failed uprising in Cuba against Spain in the sixteenth century), el Yunque which literally looks like an anvil, stop by the firehouse, and get a view of the city from el Castillo. After a five hour bus ride, we arrived back at Ester’s house in Santiago and it felt like I was coming home.

Day 6: Santiago // We got up early to rent mopeds so we could see the whole city and thought we’d be all set only to find out that they were mysteriously broken since we only wanted them for a half day. Instead, we walked around and took a taxi when we needed too. The first stop was right near our casa, the Museo Municipal Emiliano Bacardí which houses all sorts of historical artifacts and artwork relevant to Santiago from the pre-colonial days to the Revolution. They had a lot more than I thought they would about the Tainos, but unlike most of the museums I’ve been too there wasn’t as much written information so I had to ask more questions of the curators who generally knew everything. Unfortunately, I couldn’t take pictures except of two things, but there was really a lot of unique artifacts and artwork that I think are deteriorating because they aren’t in a climate controlled environment. The next stop was the Cementerio Santa Ilfigenia which houses the remains of important figures in Cuban history most notably José Martí who has an honor guard present twenty-four hours per day and fresh flowers delivered daily. That night we had dinner at Ester’s—fresh fish, fried sweet plantains, rice and beans, and salad. Probably the best dinner I’ve had here and all for $5.

Day 7: Pico Turqunio // Waking up at 3:30 a.m., we began the drive to Pico Turquino at 4:00 in a “Jeep” which ended up being an old Lada like everything else. The highway in that part was wiped out a few years ago in a Hurricane and there are literally sections of it that washed out to sea forcing drivers to take a makeshift dirt road at times. Every time we saw a mountain we thought that was it, but then around the bend we’d just see another taller one. Finally, we saw Pico Turquino though the summit was still covered by the clouds. We started hiking at 8:00 a.m. and made the grueling 11 km hike with a vertical of 2 km in just about 4.5 hours. Arriving at the top was one of the best feelings I’ve ever had—just seeing the José Martí statue made me start sprinting until we were there. We slept for a few minutes until we were rudely awoken by our guide to begin the descent. I thought that was going to be the easy part, but by just a few kilometers I was beginning to loose feeling my legs and with 4 km to go I was ready to give up. We made it to the bottom—finally—at 7:00 just in time for a three hour drive in the cramped Lada back to Santiago. Ester almost fell out of her chair laughing at our faces when we stumbled through the door. All I can say though is it was worth it. We set a goal, met it, and now anytime says they were somewhere with a view in Cuba, we know we’ve been to the highest point.

Day 8: Santiago de Cuba & Víazul // My last day in Santiago was spent sleeping in and recovering from the hike to Turqunio until about 11:00 a.m. followed by another delicious breakfast from Ester. With just a few things on the agenda, I set out to see the Colegio Jesuito where Fidel went to high school which had a few things on display in a makeshift museum and continues to this day functioning as a high school (though of course it’s no longer private). My last stop was the firehouse which was closed for renovation so I had to go to the central station in a taxi. The Fire Department is part of the Ministry of the Interior and considered a part of the military. For this reason, firehouses aren’t open to the public and the chief wouldn’t let me in nor accept my gift of a CFD shirt without prior approval from the regional commander. I managed to take a picture, but only from across the street. I had better luck in Havana where I’m planning to spend a night to see what it’s like being a firefighter in Cuba. Anyway, at 6:00 we boarded the 6:00 p.m. express to Havana and watched the Oriente slowly pass us by on the road back west.

Day 9: Víazul & La Habana / I had plenty of time on the 12-hour bus ride to reflect on my trip to Santiago and I did that for awhile until I finally drifted to sleep in the middle of the night only to wake up at dawn in La Habana. I felt like we were in a completely different part of Cuba—just like being in California as someone from the east coast—but loved almost every moment of it. Hiking Turquino was a major accomplishment and learning about the birthplace of the Revolution made everything else worthwhile. Everyone’s told me that people in Santiago are more friendly and relaxed and I found that mostly to be true—especially if you look like you want a taxi. Here I am now in Havana—feeling like I’m back at home, but really so far from there. Now it’s time to get back to classes and explain where I was for the past 10 days. Luckily it rained a few days so I only ended up missing a few classes.

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.

Some background: Matanzas is the province directly east of La Habana and its capital city is Matanzas. Within the province there are several spots of interest I hope to visit in the next month: Playa Girón (Bay of Pigs) and Veradero (allegedly home of the nicest beaches in Cuba). Santería is the hybrid religion that combines Catholicism with the traditional Yoruba religion of Nigeria. Barred from practicing their native religion and converted to Christianity, colonial slaves in Cuba kept their traditions alive by masking them with Catholic ones. The most obvious form of this practice is the connection between the orishas (spirits) and Saints. For example, Changó (the spirit of fire and war) is often connected with Santa Bárbara (that is not to say they are the same however).

With that covered, our first stop was the temple where we would also be staying on Saturday night. The Templo Otura Di was the first in Cuba (and second in the Americas) to ordain a female Babalawo (the spiritual leader of the temple roughly translating to “Father Who Knows the Secrets”). After learning about some of the customs and rituals of Santería, we traveled around the neighborhood to other templos to see the differences within the religion. Back at the Otura Di, we were part of a full ritual before spending some of the later hours exploring the city. Since we stayed in the houses of various santeros, there weren’t enough beds and I had the privilege of sleeping the back seat of a 1950s máquina.

Well rested, the next day we explored more of Matanzas before heading back to Havana on the bus. After my first night away from the capital, I was happy to be heading “home.” I’m also ready to get more aggressive about traveling around the island as much as I can. For the month of April I have a long list of places I’d like to visit including: Santiago de Cuba, Bayamo, Pico Turquino (the highest mountain in Cuba), Baracoa, Playa Girón, Isla de la Juventud, and the western most parts of Pinar del Río.

Aside from traveling, classes have been at a relaxed pace the past few weeks, but that just means we’ll be gearing up for another round of semanarios in the next few. If you’ve been reading the New York Times recently, you’ll notice that there are a lot of “major” changes happening here in Havana, all of them a loosening of restrictions that have been in place on Cubans for many years now. First was the legalization of the public sale of microwaves, DVD players, and eventually air conditioners, then garnering more headlines, the opening of the cell phone market to all Cubans. Just a few days ago, hotels were officially opened to all Cuban (who used to be prohibited from renting accommodations in tourist hotels even if they had the money to do so).

I’m not trying to take away from the significance of these changes, but would encourage people to think about them using a historical perspective. There’s a huge black market for items that the state doesn’t sell openly so any commodity that can be found on the island can be bought by a Cuban if they have the money to do so. The same goes for cell phones. The decision of the State to openly sell these items resulted from the need of Cuban’s to have access to these items as much as a necessity for the State which looses money when it doesn’t control the method of product distribution. The opening of hotels to Cubans is slightly more significant because that was something that could not be bought on the black market, although there were many ways for Cubans to gain official access to tourist hotels. We’ve now entered the “low” season as Europe warms up and tourism decreases and when you combine that with an overall decrease in tourism over the past few years, you’ll notice that this is a win/win for the state which gets to fill empty hotel rooms and make the (capitalist) world think that Cuba is changing.

What I find significant in these recent measures taken by Raúl Castro is that the government seems to be acknowledging that there are two classes of Cubans—those who have access to convertible pesos and those who don’t. There are two notable ways to gain access to convertible pesos: working in the tourist sector or for foreign businesses and having family residing abroad that sends remittances. From an economic standpoint, the growing availability of commodities available to Cubans with access to convertible pesos will serve as an additional incentive for Cubans to try and gain access to that type of currency. Given that the government can not increase salaries twenty-four fold, this means there is a greater incentive to work in the tourist sectors. Overall, I see the recent headlines as an acknowledgement of not only the existence of socioeconomic classes in Cuba, but more significantly, that the class of Cubans with convertible pesos is growing and gaining political power. Like everything, I’ll have to get in the cola to find out.

From 7:00 on Friday night to 3:00 Saturday morning, I celebrated the occasion with journalists from across America (North, South, and the Caribbean). We sat around a table with drinks on the house (the State) and sang songs from our respective countries. Represented at the table were songs from Cuba, Panama, Ecuador, Mexico, Nicaragua, Brazil, the Dominican Republic, and of course—the United States. I settled with Calle 13 featuring Orishas “Pal Norte.” While it may not be a traditional song back home, the U.S. obviously plays a central role in the song as the country many refer simply as el norte.

Saturday—despite being out until the early hours that morning—we woke up at 6:00 a.m. to begin a four hour journey to Santa Clara. As our school bus pulled up, complete with wooden seats, I knew we were going to be in for a long drive. Just about an hour out from Havana though, we found ourselves back in Cuba as the bus broke down and we were stranded on the highway. With a van coming to pick us up (all 15), the driver was finally able to fix the bus about two hours later and we made our way back to the city instead of risking getting stuck again. Everything worked out and by noon I was sitting back on the white sand and crystal clear waters of Guanabo with some other international students from the University.

Sunday began early as well since we changed the hour here and 9:00 breakfast suddenly felt like 8:00. Shortly after, four journalists and I walked down Avenida de los Presidentes to catch the P-11 heading toward Habana Vieja. We spent a few hours at the Museum of the Revolution and later the Granma Memorial. There’s so much history in that building though (the old Presidential Palace) so I’m sure I’ll be going back again for a third visit sometime soon. Next up was a stop at the Camera Oscura where we got a pretty cool view of the entire city.

Finally, after lunch at the Residence, we took another bus to Miramar where the National Aquarium is. Of course, no visit to an aquarium is complete without a dolphin show and I’ve never seen one so cool. One of the highlights has to be seeing the dolphins dance to different types of popular music here in Cuba—merengue, then reggeaton, and finally rock (which is ridiculously popular in Havana). Speaking of something you wouldn’t expect to be popular here, Cubans love the theme song from Titanic. It played no less than three times during a two hour visit to the aquarium. On our way back, I took advantage of being in Miramar to find the Supermarket (actually Giant or Safeway sized, but it was closed early for some reason) and the only Mexican restaurant in Havana. Now I should seriously think about doing some reading since I have a semanario tomorrow at 8:00 a.m.

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.