Finally... my first real blog post!

September 9, 2008

My first few days in Cuba have been pure insanity. I knew from the second that I saw the beautiful Cuban landscape from the plane that I was going to fall in love with this country. That feeling, however, was followed by nauseousness and a strong desire to throw up as we descended down into Havana’s airport. I guess it was a rather appropriate metaphor for the adventure I was in for – heartbreakingly beautiful, but sickeningly difficult.

Our arrival at the tiny airport was marked by being hit by the hot, muggy, heavy Cuban weather, and then being filtered into a makeshift processing area that literally looked like a tiny warehouse sectioned off with blue sheetrock, being wanded with a metal detector, and then waiting for about two hours for our baggage in the “baggage pickup” section. The entire process took place in what was seriously nothing more than an industrial space fashioned into a Cuban airport, but spoke to the creativity of the Cuban people in making do with what they have.

Upon leaving the airport, we made our way to the Asociacion Nacional de Agricultores Pequenos, our homestead for the next four months. It was filled with staff welcoming us in, and I was completely overwhelmed by both their graciousness and insanely fast greetings in Cuban (read: very difficult to understand) Spanish.

When I reached room 108, I was completely stunned by the simplicity of it all – three beds, a fridge, two chairs, two nightstands, and a sliding-door closet. No dresser drawers – meaning a clothing crisis between three girls living in the same cramped quarters - but, as my roommate Bolaji puts it, “this semester is going to be a lesson in humility.” Cubans often say the phrase, “no es facil” (it’s not easy), and it definitely isn’t, but you make do.

Our “cafeteria” is a “restaurant” located in a small room connected to a kitchen by an outdoor hallway near our bedroom. The staff there are awesome, and the cooks and waitress (called “la China” affectionately by everyone) are really affectionate and jovial all the time. Our “laundry room” is located up a staircase by the restaurant and contains two washers, one of which we are allowed to use by the staff, when they are not using it to wash our sheets and such. We also have clotheslines (!).

I’m actually getting a huge kick out of the simple things, like the fact that out toilet doesn’t have a flusher, but a little pull-string at the top, to flush the toilet. Also, the staff here are awesome and joke around with us all the time – in Spanish, of course! Life just seems so much richer when it’s simpler, and you start appreciating things a lot more, like hot showers, great conversation, and honest friends.

Speaking of honest friends, we got our first taste of jineterismo (a Cuban hustling phenomenon that includes everything from scam artists to prostitutes) a few days ago when a “regular” came to visit ANAP to visit his “American friends.” This guy named Ry, a Cuban UHavana student, came to the house and introduced himself, which seemed nice, until Yadira informed us that he was a repeat visitor from other semesters of international study abroad students, and befriended the students every semester in the hopes of getting American benefits out of the deal. I wanted nothing to do with him, just because I hate that thought that people will try to befriend me for a purpose of utility. I’m going to try and be smart without being jaded, although I find it so sad that I have to be vigilant of something as innocent as a friendship.

In addition to being at ANAP, we have also been touring Havana (before Ike hit, of course). There are people who go around in latas (old-style cars) with speakers blaring communist propaganda, people who ride little bicycles attached to carriage-like things (bici-taxis), and people who sell roasted peanuts in little cones. Everything is different – things I knew well in Boston smell, taste, look, feel, and sound completely different here. We have visited some cute little markets, went to Barrio Chino (Chinatown) and ate at a Chinese restaurant, and shopped at very cheap books shops (some books cost as little as 10 pesos in moneda nacional, or roughly 50 cents – although fitting it in my suitcase is another story). Other bookstores charge in CUCs, or Cuban convertible pesos, which are roughly under a dollar in value each and are mostly used at touristy places, such as fancier restaurants (which are few and far between here), gift shops, and hotels/bars.

Then, of course, there is Hurricane Ike, which is keeping me from currently accessing the internet and publishing this blog post. It’s nothing more to us study abroad students than a giant rainstorm with wind gusts in Havana, but it sure does scare the crap out of you when giant doors are banging against each other and water is gushing down in the middle of the night. Removed from our comfortable status as a foreigner, however, other places in Cuba, like Pinar del Rio, were hit very badly, after having been hit badly by Gustav, as well. I was watching the Cuban news channel on the tv in our room, and eastern Cuban hospitals were destroyed, houses had their roofs torn off, trees fell all over the street. The damage outside of our house is incredibly mind-blowing.

I apologize for the long post, but I am currently just so stuffed full of information and overwhelmed by all that I have seen that I’m just dazed and confused and needing to get it all down somewhere. The muggy Cuban weather only seems to compound the issue, as I feel grimy and kind of sleepy all the time, although I shower regularly and have been sleeping fairly well.

All in all, though, I sincerely have loved every minute of this experience so far, and can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings! Please write to me often, and hopefully I will be able to get to a computer soon to see all of my email!!!

Much love to everyone!

September 11, 2008

Hey, all,

So, the last post was a rather jovial one, although this one is going to be a bit more serious. I had my cross/necklace/saints medals stolen tonight by a man who ripped my cross off my neck, and I would be lying if I didn’t say I was a bit traumatized by the experience. Just the thought that somebody would come up to me, when I had been vigilant in watching all my stuff, and snatch my cross off my neck is deeply disturbing to me. I suppose that this is a part of the “lesson in humility,” though, and one doesn’t need to have a visible sign of one’s faith if it is already a part of your heart and soul, as I have come to find out.

Other than that experience, I have been having a great time – getting my caricature done in Havana Vieja, taking pictures of Havana, and seeing sights I have never seen before (like tiny frogs, tiny puppies, and other various cute things, like adorable childen).

Please keep me in your prayers, as I have a feeling that I’ll be needing them.

Love you all,

Christina :)