Camaguey Day

Jan. 25, 2018- Camaguey Day

 Manuel, our tour director, insists that if we have a problem we tell him so he can fix it. He doesn't want us to struggle alone and complain on the evaluation. This morning I didn't complain about the trickle from our rain head shower, but did tell him the sheets on our bed were the wrong size. Forget fitted sheets. The bottom sheet for our queen bed was a twin. We weren't the only ones. He fixed it and our sheet today will stay tucked through the night. We had quite a wrestling match. The mattress pad won.  

We started the morning with a rousing Flamenco performance by the Camaguey Flamenco Ballet Company. The dance style has returned to favor as a way to acknowledge their Spanish heritage. Of course, they put a Cuban twist on it. The host had a wicked sense of humor. He assured us that flash photography was permitted. If it caused the dancers to misstep and get hurt, the country provided health insurance. He poked fun at the rationalization for American visitors by saying that he hoped we had a meaningful experience, asked meaningful questions, and they would try to give meaningful answers during our official exchange. 

The group of three dancers warmed up on stage with stretches reminiscent of those I do in senior exercise classes. I thought, "I can do that." When the dancing started, I likened the arm movements to tai chi and the stomping looked easy until it picked up speed. I focused on the one male dancer who moved like lightning even though his pants were incredibly form fitting. I have photos to prove it. This time, we among others, were picked to dance with the troupe. They kept the pace slow enough so that no one fell off the stage or passed out.

 As we left the studio, we boarded colorful pedicabs and began our parade around the many squares of the city. It reminded me of Savannah with a park at every turn and labyrinthine streets. Our driver, Tyler, was talkative and his English was fine. He's in his 40's and married 22 years. The photo of his wife led me to assure him he'd never leave her. As he pedaled along, he reached out to touch hands with friends and once stopped to kiss his aunt and cousin. 

We met a leather artist who is unique to Camaquey and Martha Jimenez whose art is world renowned. She works in brass, ceramic, and paint. We thought her work was derivative, but bought a piece of leatherwork. 

Lunch was blah until dessert. We made book on flan or ice cream. We lost. They served guava marmalade with shredded cheese sprinkled on top. It was more a thick soup than a jam. I hesitated to taste it anticipating a cloying sweetness, but the cheese provided the perfect addition to create a strange but exquisite blend.

Manuel, seems to spend a lot of time drinking cokes at every restaurant bar where we stop. We suspect he might have rum in them. I had my first mojito at lunch. It was complimentary, so why not? Yum. Manuel must have been feeling frisky. He joined the woman singer who serenaded us. We all took pictures and promised to post them on Facebook.

On our walks today, Jose explained how addresses work. Many buildings have a number (210) and the next door will be 210A. After the revolution large houses and buildings were divided up for several families. Come the revolution we'll probably have three families living in our house.

We had a few hours siesta before walking to painter/sculptor Orestes Larios studio. He's a world-famous artist who describes himself as a tropical Jew or Jewban. His gallery is unusually large and he donates the space for concerts. He explained that there were 6,000 Jews in Cuba until 1958. The exodus was extreme. With that and attrition, there are now only 800. Most Cuban Jews were from Eastern Europe and were Ashkenazic. There was a sizable Sephardic community, but not the majority. His grandmother came from Poland in 1926. There is one rabbi for all of Cuba and he lives in Chile. He comes once a year. Kosher food has to come from Havana. Cuban kosher is beans and rice and beer.

Those who wanted to mounted pedi-cabs for a long ride to the synagogue. The drivers were reckless and fast as we careened around corners and over railroad tracks. Our return trip was after dark. They had headlights but relied on a bicycle escort who checked traffic at the corners.

The synagogue, with the permission of the government, was built in 1998. It is supported by the 40 members and overseas communities. The sanctuary is simple with painted white walls trimmed in blue. There's a small gathering hall with a kitchen to the side. It is a humble place of which Orestes Larios is very proud. 

Only six of our group went to the synagogue. It occurred to me that we've dragged into hundreds of churches around the world. I was miffed.

This is the process we go through when I send photos to you. I can't be on two devices while using their internet cards. I have to put the code into my phone and emai the pictures to myself. Then I log off the phone and enter the code into the iPad. It's a bit cumbersome, but it works.

Tomorrow we have an early departure for a four-hour drive to Trinidad. I'm able to sleep or read a book on the iPad to pass the time. There's only so much of green landscape and shabby houses to hold my interest. 

Toby

Our Carriages

Captivating Flamenco

Fancy Pedi-cabs

Leather Art

Simple Pedi-Cabs

Synagogue