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Hey there everyone! I just got back from a lovely weekend in Santiago de Cuba, one of the most important Cuban cities in terms of both the revolution and general culture. Basically, Santiago is where the Revolution started, so there’s a ton of museums and a giant cemetery hosting Cuban greats such as Jose Marti, Mr. Bacardi, and musicians from Buena Vista Social Club. It was great to get to see another side of life in Cuba. Santiago is different from Havana in that there are more jineteros (because Santiago is not as comparatively “wealthy” or big of a city as Havana), and there is more “culture” (meaning starving artists and more flavorful food).

We met up with a Harvard grad student named Grete in Santiago, who is studying the Haitian population in Santiago, and showed us around her stomping grounds. We all stayed in casa particulares located on the same street, which were REALLY nice and decked out with tons of goodies like antique furniture, toilet paper, and beautiful gardens. A “casa particular” is basically somebody’s house that has rooms for rent. It’s the Cuban version of a bed and breakfast. Many Cubans seek extra income by renting out their rooms to people, but these enterprises are heavily regulated and taxed, so many people can’t afford to keep up the business. Plainclothes inspectors come to casa particulares all the time to make sure that the houses aren’t filled up over capacity (owners are only allowed so many guests), and ensure that everything checks out. Also, houses that can’t afford things like toilet paper, fruit, hot water, and various other niceties that foreigners look for cannot compete with other casa particulares who offer these goods. It’s crazy how all the things that I took so much for granted in the US are considered to be luxurious commodities in Cuba!!!

The casa particular I was staying at was beautiful – giant ceilings (as is typical of Cuban architecture, but well maintained, which is not), beautiful beds, a polished China cabinet, photo frames, air conditioning – it was a PALACE! The woman who Bolaji and I lived with treated us “like daughters,” and spoiled us rotten with good food and great hospitality (said to be a very Santiaguero trait!). We had [what had to be black-market!] eggs for breakfast, pineapple, a kind of weird sweet-potato-like reddish fruit, guava, warm, soft bread rolls (with butter!!), JAM!!!!!!, TEA!!!!!, HONEY!!!!, and milk. It was crazy-luxurious, and I enjoyed that mint tea like nobody’s business!!! It was so satisfying after having craved tea for so long! One can develop an addiction to Cuban (read: STRONG) coffee, but tea is still my favorite!

The best part about Santiago, though, was the sightseeing (outside of our casa particulares, of course!). We played tourists for two days shopping at bookstores, looking at artwork, and meeting awesome Cuban experts on culture and history. We met up with the city historian for Santiago, who gave us a great tour of Santiago and explained some of the history behind the city. We also met with a woman who specializes in “artes plasticas” in Santiago, with an artist who is one of the most famous poster artists in Cuba (he did a lot of political posters, painted by hand, commissioned by the government!), and with a man who is an expert on the history of the town of Cobre, where there is a shrine to the Virgin Mary, which I’ll go into more detail about later. It was totally enlightening and, honestly, refreshing, to meet such genuine people!

As for our tourist-y roundabouts, we visited the cemetery of Santiago, where we saw the tomb of Jose Marti, which was a BIG DEAL and has guards to watch it that change every half-hour similar to the tomb of the unnamed soldiers in Washington DC. He’s HUGE here, so his grave site is really extravagant – you can probably tell where he’s located in the cemetery from a mile away. We also got to see a museum located in a working school where there was an invasion at the beginning of the Revolution. For some reason, most Cuban museums are obsessed with displaying blood-stained clothing and showing gruesome pictures of dead bodies and torture devices, so that was, as always, a rather disturbing part of our visit. Although, I did find it quite comical that the “bullet holes” on the outside of the museum / functioning school (it still is a working school and there were kids playing soccer outside when we visited!) were actually conveniently added onto the building for dramatic effect. Gotta love those Cubans.

One of my favorite parts of the trip was visiting the tiny town of Cobre, though, which is just outside Santiago. History has it that two fishermen got caught out on a tiny boat during a storm off the coast of Cobre, and the Virgin Mary appeared to them on a board saying, “Virgen de la Caridad del Cobre.” When the men returned to shore, they built her a church, and the Virgen de la Caridad del Cobre became Cuba’s patron saint. The church was absolutely beautiful, but it was so strange to see the people selling beautiful bouquets of flowers in roadside stands that would probably go for 15 or 20 dollars back home, selling them for the equivalent of US $2.50. Cobre is a pretty poor-looking town, but then again, so are most small towns in Cuba.

The entire week, I have been struggling with two pretty difficult realizations that have been cascading down on me constantly. One: Cubans are ridiculously poor, and the fact that I can go to fancy schmancy restaurants and afford (or, Harvard can afford to pay for) a $15 plate of food feels so guilty to me. I realize that giving away money won’t solve the problem, but how does one even begin to tackle the realization that the only way to get more money to Cubans is to drop the embargo??? It’s sad, really, that our countries can’t even talk to one another, which brings me to my next realization. Two: Cubans are inherently continually disrespectful or discriminatory against foreigners. I am not by any means a forceful person. But, what upsets me the most is when Cubans behind the counter hand you back the wrong amount of change, or ask you to wait in a line you already waited in, and hand what should be your ration of food to some Cuban who came after you did, or give you an up-and-down when you ask for a discount on something because you are a Cuban university student, and present your carnet (ID card).

At the airport (where, by the way, we waited for around 9 or 10 hours for our plane to arrive after its scheduled departure time at 9:30 am – we got on at around 7pm-ish), one of the members of our group forgot his paper ticket, and the airlines forced him to purchase an entirely new ticket for $116 CUC. He was listed in the computer as having purchased the ticket, under his name, but the airlines wouldn’t have it. There is no customer service here because people are their own bosses, but there was no recourse for us as foreigners trying to get back to Havana. It was so frustrating, and I guess that’s just the general theme of Cuban life. It’s frustrating to be treated differently because of who you are, but I suppose that’s what immigrants in the United States go through on a daily basis.

In a way, I’m glad to be experiencing the discrimination that I am. It’s a lesson in patience, most definitely, but it’s also giving me a brief glimpse into a world that most people find too unpleasant to even think about. I never understood before the feeling of not belonging, and here I most DEFINITELY do not belong. Although most people are not blatantly and openly prejudice against foreigners, there’s a sort of disdain (and not unmerited, in my opinion) for somebody who can blow a month’s salary (about 15 bucks) on toilet paper, or a couple of drinks at a fancy hotel. Cubans just can’t mess around with that sort of thing.

Alright, enough philosophical ramblings – I’m going to go read about US-Cuban relations for my Spanish class. It’s a sixteen-pager in Spanish – wish me luck!!! : )

Be safe, be well, and God bless!!! : )