Santa Clara

Jan. 28, 2018-Santa Clara

We were assigned rooms by perceived physical condition. There's no elevator. More able-bodied people are higher up. We're on the lowest floor. The A/C in our room blows on my bed. There's no adjusting the direction. Last night I had a choice of having the room cold enough to reduce humidity and enable easier breathing, or having it warmer. I froze.

I sat near the pseudo Trump supporter at breakfast. Over the din of an early morning serenade, we talked about other issues. I later told him that he had a brilliant intellect, and it scared me if he was right about Tr. He thinks Tr is an asshole, but he's being made into a clown. People aren't taking him seriously enough. If the Dems don't get their act together we may end up with Tr's successor solving the economic problem by killing the poor. The savings by taxing the top 1% more wouldn't solve our budgetary problem. Eliminating the money we need to spend on maintaining the poor might. That's his opinion.

Santa Clara was founded in 1689 by coastal settlers fleeing Corsican pirates. Historical names are unfamiliar to us except for the top three (Fidel, Che, Martin). Names of parks dedicated to their heroes don't ring a bell. But the park near our hotel has a statue of a woman. That's unusual even though there was a heroic woman who fought in the last revolution. This statue of Marta Abreu is that of a philanthropist, not a warrior. Be that as it may, the park is named for a warrior. Santa Clara is the site of the last battle fought and won before Che marched to Havana in 1958. Batista, the deposed ruler, fled to the Dominican Republic. Trujillo didn't want him to bring trouble, so Batista moved to Spain where he found a friend in Franco.

Our first cultural exchange today was hearing Trova music played and sung by a Troubadour. The term, troubadour is from the Italian. Italian music was Cubanized when adopted. The singer gave examples of how it sounded before and after the Cubans re-arranged it. He sang a song as Enrico Caruso did when he performed here and then the Cuban version. There was a marked difference, but our entertainer could give Caruso a run for his money. He was trained in opera in the days before microphones were common. His recordings were nominated for a Grammy, but even though he had a visa to go, he didn't win so never got there. He was accompanied on violin and piano by his son. They each have their own bands and have travelled abroad. Not to the US.

Our next encounter was with abuelos, meaning grandparents. They're members of a senior club of 130 members. They must be retired and active. Ages in the group we met were from 74-84. Past professions ranged from auto mechanic, cook, teacher, chemist, nurse. They demonstrated a dance called "Danzon" before asking us to participate. It is a couple's dance to a 3-count beat. All our partners counted as we danced. It was one of the first dances in Cuba where couples touched. The hold is classic ballroom and the step is akin to a waltz with a Cuban beat. Participants in Danzon have to dress properly. In the days of chaperones, the young women had fans which they used to convey a code to communicate their desires to the young men.

We asked some questions about aging in Cuba. Most live alone or with family, but provisions are made for those who can't. Seniors are lobbying for access ramps for sidewalks and buildings. They have the benefit of receiving a pension, and if they work after retirement, a salary as well.

To illustrate their fitness, they introduced us to the game of Quimrumbia. It may stem from the indigenous Cubans. No one is sure. It is played with a wooden object shaped like a spool of kite string. That is placed on the ground. A stick is used to hit it at one end so it pops up. When it's airborne the batter hits it with the stick. There are 3 strikes to an out then the teams change sides. We were able to purchase a set. We paid in Cucs and got a combination of Cucs and US dollars as change. I think we lost out on that deal.

The abuelos joined us for lunch at Paladare Sabor y Arte. Our welcome drinks were a fruit juice filled with slivers of fruit into which a generous portion of rum was poured. The meal was average from there.

The rain had stopped and we bussed to Che Guevara's memorial. Che is remembered as Fidel's best commander. He is the main symbol of the Cuban Revolution. But Che was more into the cause than Cuba in particular. From 1958 until he left Cuba in 1965, he tried to foment civil uprisings in Africa, Mexico, and Bolivia. He was unsuccessful. He was murdered in Bolivia in 1967, by those who didn't want his radicalism to catch on. The memorial is a dramatic monument to Che and 37 of his men whose bodies were brought back.

Cars from the train that Che and his merry band derailed in Santa Clara to win the last battle are parked near our hotel. We walked the ten blocks through neighborhoods of falling down apartment buildings. Since Cubans feel free to look through the wrought iron decorative screens when we're in a restaurant, we peeked in at them. Most were in rocking chairs watching a baseball game. The interiors weren't fancy, but livable. One window revealed an adorable girl of about a year who was entertaining relatives and friends who were passing by. They moved aside so we could see her. I wanted to take a photo but was afraid it would be rude to ask. Other wrought iron bars provided lofts for dogs to supervise the passing traffic. Most barked a greeting. Only one showed teeth. As we crossed the street, a motorcycle zoomed by with a girl on the back balancing a large cake in the palm of her hand.

We continued on to Hotel Central across from a lovely park. We made our way through swarming birds and children to check out the menu for dinner. The selections read better than they tasted. They were out of at least four items and only had lemon cake for dessert. I took a picture of the menu to capture the English translations: 

beef bowling larded with bacon (roast beef wrapped in bacon)

chicken pizza stile (sp) (chicken breast with cheese and tomato on top then pan grilled until the

    bottom was as hard as pizza crust)

Petit beef filet flamed in Cuban Ron (rum)

Pork braid (unknown)

We joined others from our tour for this unusual repast then walked back to the hotel through the park. A band was playing in the gazebo, but no one was dancing. Then we noticed a gray-haired man wearing a suit and carrying an umbrella dancing alone in the crowd. He was so graceful he seemed to be skating.

This is Jose's first and last group trip this year. Americans are afraid to come due to government travel warnings. Now, the only work he will have will be day trips from cruise ships. We feel so badly for him.

Tomorrow we go to Havana for three nights!

Toby

Abuelos

Che Memorial