Guantanamo- Land Among the Rivers

Jan. 23, 2018- Guantanamo- Land Among the Rivers 

Every day is more interesting than the last. I'm loving encounters with musicians and listening to the unique sounds of the island. The artists are talented and appealing to us. So far, we've bought two inexpensive prints. The cost of framing them will set us back.

Guantanamo has GTMO signs over some stores but it has nothing to do with the US base now. A few locals worked at the base, but when they retired, they were replaced with Jamaicans and other English speaking islanders. 

The population of the Provence is a Creole blend of French, Haitian, and Cuban. We went to Tumba Francesa, a Creole club that preserves old music, songs, and dances. Many stem from slavery and mock the French gentry. The oldest dancer was 74, and moved like the Energizer bunny. Tumba means drums and the repetitive, simple, visceral beat was echoed in the dancers' feet. At the end, the dancers asked several in the audience to join them. They partnered up. Alas, I wasn't asked to dance. During the program, I noticed a man on the street who was sketching. When we exited, he offered to sell or give me my caricature. I hope it was a caricature. His take made me look like a woodpecker. Actually, with my nose and hair, that's not far off.

At 11:30 AM, we were at the House of Changui being offered rum and coke. I drank it. Changui is Haitian slave music played on old and some improvised instruments. The musicians were all in white and sang with spirit as they moved to the beat.

Lunch was at Paladare El Karey. The usual. We learned that the two women traveling together are both married to Jewish men. I also found our Trump supporter. He didn't vote for him, but regaled me with why Trump is doing a good job. I listened and told him I disagreed with everything he just said. We then chatted about his work as a surgeon in Africa. 

We met with Carlos Rafael, an artist, and his wife, Sandra. She has a news program on TV and is more famous in Cuba than he. There's a tradition of placing a cactus over the door to your house as a symbol of love. Unfortunately, his cactus is dying, but the way he looked at his wife, I think the marriage is intact. A cactus is better than hanging a dried llama fetus in the house as they do in Peru. Carlos is successful and gives back by running an art school for 7-12-year olds during the summer.

On our ride to GTMO, Jose answered questions about the old American cars so popular here. In 1963, 1500 of those cars were in Havana. They were stranded when the law changed and importation and exportation was forbidden. In their inimitable way, Cubans figured out that to keep them running they had to be creative. They soon realized that Japanese and Soviet auto parts worked in American cars. The new cars we've seen are government cars. The government uses them for 3 years then gives them to deserving employees or even sports stars. Those people are permitted to sell them. Some here seem to be "more equal."

We remarked on the cleanliness of roads and streets. In a dictatorship it's easy to enforce laws and punishments, even for cleanliness. They also recycle like crazy. 

Raoul Castro has helped with the transition from Cuban Communism to a more moderate form. Jose sees Cuba retaining free education & health care, but capitalism will worm its way in as more people take advantage of entrepreneurship.

Raoul will retire soon. The people have elected their local representatives. Those reps appointed national reps to a general assembly. That assembly will appoint the next president. He or she will likely be younger (50's) and progressive.

Jose told us that the song, Guantanamera, was written as a love song without words. Pete Seger wanted to record it and asked a Cuban musician friend what the words were. He was told there were none, but a poem by Jose Marti would work. Seger was the first to record that song with lyrics.

There is no private gun ownership here. There is capital punishment by firing squad.

He said that there are equal rights laws for the LGBT community, but no marriage yet. Raoul Castro's daughter pushed the legislation through. She's married with children and an ardent supporter of civil rights. We discussed our family and a bit about PFLAG. Ray, the 90-year old who keeps up with the group well, piped up that he belonged to PFLAG and HRC and has the emblems on his car. Jose said he's in total agreement with an accepting society and showed us a photo of is wife. She's white and blond.

We learned that the Sierra Maestro and Sierra Madre Mts. were one and the same.

Yes, we still have no banana. Jose is still looking.

Hippopotamus in Spanish is "hippopotamo." We found two but didn't like either. We're getting bold.

Ingenuity is the stuff of Cuba. We spotted what they call a "camel" because of its shape. It's a semi pulling what looks like a large horse van. It's used as a bus and is crammed full of people. 

Manuel reimbursed us all for tips we've been leaving for the hotel maid. Road Scholar said all tips were included. They really meant it...except for bathroom ladies. 

Sadly, our bus was following behind a truck with a horse in the rear bed. It took us awhile to figure out why the horse was laying down and its legs were tied. He had a broken leg. Jose surmised they were on the way to the vet (free) and the horse would be put down. No, they don't use horse meat in dog food. The bus driver did his best to pass the truck quickly. It was excruciating to see.

On a lighter note, Manuel reminded us that we could reach him on his phone or in his room. When he tried to tell us the room number, he couldn't remember. I did. I'd written it down yesterday. I called out the number to lots of laughter. 

For our first dinner on our own, we stayed at the hotel and went to the Italian restaurant with others in our group.

Tomorrow we have a long drive to Cameguay with a few stops along the way. Remember, there may be days without email...maybe even until we get to Havana in 3 or 4 days.

Toby

Old Ways

Tumba Dancing

Tumba Dancing Queen

Typical Town