Santiago

A massive monument to one of Cuba's independence leaders Antonio Maceo, at the Revolutionary Square in Santiago

Our program had always included a spring break trip that was supposed to mark the end of the first quarter of classes and the start of the second quarter. On the day that we were supposed to travel, however, a small earthquake hit Santiago. The University of Havana, not wanting to endanger us, postponed the trip until this last week.

The itinerary for the trip included two nights in Santiago. Once the most important city on the island, Santiago was eventually left in the dust by Havana in the sixteenth century. The city, located on the eastern part of the island, is still the third largest in the country (Holguin, on the northern coast, just became second) home to around half a million people. Because the city is so far away, our group took an overnight bus that carried us 12 hours from Havana to the Melia Santiago, the fancy hotel that the program put us up in (much to our chagrin, since we’d rather go to Casa Particulares, but we didn’t have much of a say in it). The nice thing about the Melia was that it included all you can eat-breakfast and dinner buffets – a dangerous proposition for students who have been on a very plain diet of rice, hot dogs and peso pizza.

We arrived in Santiago on a Tuesday morning after spending all night on the bus. After a filling breakfast at the hotel, we took off on a sight-seeing tour of the city. There wasn’t too much to see in Santiago – there were a couple of old houses that we stopped at and we got to go to Santiago’s main city squares, but it didn’t compare at all to Havana. On the plus side, Santiago did have a beautiful setting, with a small bay, the city perched on a hill and the Sierra Maestra mountain range that Fidel Castro’s rebels fought in in the background. Because none of us had slept well on the bus ride, we ended our sightseeing early and went back to the hotel to enjoy the pool. That night, we all gorged on the dinner buffet – I made myself a five course meal that included cold cuts, shrimp, lamb, steak, hamburger and dessert. It was disgusting but amazing at the same time. Jonathan and I weighed ourselves in our bathroom right after and I found that I had gained six pounds; Jonathan outdid me with eight. That night we walked to the city center (our hotel was unfortunately located outside the city center, so it was about a thirty minute walk to get anywhere) and sat in one of the squares before heading back.

Jonathan on the scale after eating way too much

The second day we did more sightseeing. We started out by visiting Santiago's cemetery and paying our respects to Cuba's greatest leader, Jose Marti.

At the cemetery in Santiago

After that, we went to San Juan Hill, known in the annals of American history as the location where Teddy Roosevelt led his Rough Riders on a charge to take a Spanish fort and end the “Spanish-American War”. Cubans are understandably cynical of the hill’s importance, mostly because it symbolizes the intervention of the United States in a Cuban war for independence that would have been won even if the US hadn’t sent Teddy and the Rough Riders. The American intervention forced Cuba to become economically, politically and militarily dependent on the US for the next 61 years. Nevertheless, the hill has been preserved, with several monuments commemorating the Rough Riders and other American soldiers killed in the war; others commemorate the Cuban soldiers who also took part in the battle and the Spanish soldiers who stood their ground for more than 24 hours in the face of an army 10 times their size. Being the Americans that we are, and understanding the historical significance of the battle, a few of us lined up at the base of the hill and led our own charge up.

Our charge up San Juan Hill

For some still unknown reason, our itinerary included a visit to Cuba’s Prehistoric Park, a large grassy area located an hour away from the city whose main attraction are the “life-size” concrete dinosaurs that litter the landscape. It was such a ridiculous place that we couldn’t help but having fun climbing on the dinosaurs and taking silly pictures.

At the dinosaur park

We also visited the Morro, an old Spanish fort built on a precipice overlooking the entrance to Santiago’s bay, used to fend off pirates and other invaders. The last stop on our visit was Cuartel Moncada, the old barracks that Fidel Castro attacked with a band of about 100 soldiers on July 26, 1953 as the beginning of the war against the Batista government. The plan of attack was foolish and quickly failed, leading to the torture and deaths of seventy of the attackers and Castro’s incarceration. The symbolism behind the attack remained important throughout Castro’s time in jail and led to the creation of the 26^th of July Movement, the political-military group led by Castro that led the Revolution in 1959.

After the visit to the barracks (which have since become an elementary school), we went back to the hotel and lounged by the pool some more before having another ridiculous dinner. After digesting for a couple of hours, Jonathan and I walked downtown to take some pictures of some political propaganda that we had seen before. It was here where I encountered the arbitrariness of Cuba’s law – a police officer came over and asked me if I was taking pictures. I responded by saying that I was, indeed, taking pictures. He then asked everyone else who was around if that was what I was doing, which they affirmed. He called it in to his headquarters, which apparently told him that I wasn’t allowed to take pictures. He forced me to delete all my pictures that I had just taken and then laboriously copied all my information on my Cuban ID and American passport. When I showed him that I had deleted the pictures, he told me I also had to delete the pictures I had taken of the Moncada Barracks. I told him there was absolutely no way I was going to delete those, especially since we had to pay extra money to go into the museum with a camera anyway. He didn’t really know what to say then and kept copying down my information. When I asked him what I had done wrong, he balked and couldn’t answer, even though I pressed him multiple times. Finally, he gave me back my id and told me I could go. It was a silly and insignificant encounter, but it confirms what other Cubans have told me that the police enforce the law in silly, arbitrary ways, and that they are often untrained and unskilled. While it resulted in nothing for me, for Cubans it could easily lead to heavy fines and jail time. It was an eye-opening experience.

That was the end of our Santiago trip. To be honest, I wasn’t particularly impressed with the city, but that may have had more to do with the fact that we stayed outside the center at a relatively luxurious hotel, distant from the realities of Cuban life that have made our other city visits more enjoyable.

View from the Morro, at the entrance of Santiago's harbor

Trinidad

We went to Trinidad a week and a half ago. Originally, we were supposed to go Santiago de Cuba and Baracoa as part of our spring break trip; however, because of recurring earthquakes in the area, the University decided that it was best not to risk a trip to the western part of the island. Instead, we were allowed to organize our own trip to Trinidad, located in the center of the island on the southern coast, about an hour away from Cienfuegos.

Because there were nine of us, we got a large van to take us on the five hour ride. The town of Trinidad is Cuba’s best historically preserved city. It was built in the late 18th and early 19th centuries by sugar barons who had come from Haiti (which had just undergone the bloody Haitian Revolution) to establish Cuba as the largest sugar exporter in the world. The area was devastated by Cuba’s first attempt at revolution and the sugar plantations of the area never recovered. The result was that the city was neglected for more than a hundred years – allowing the beautiful buildings that still make up the historical city center to remain – before UNESCO granted it a World Heritage Site designation and the government began restoring the city.

Jonathan, Maeve and Ani in front of Trinidad's old square

The town is beautiful. Like Cienfuegos, there’s not too much too see, but just walking around on the old cobblestone streets and looking at the French-inspired architecture were inspiring enough. We stayed at two Casas in the historical district of the town; after some negotiating we managed to get them to let us stay three people in one room so that Zack wouldn’t have to pay an extra.

Cocounts outside our Casa

Our first afternoon we walked around the historical area of the town. I bought a guayabera, a traditional shirt worn by Cubans which has four pockets and largely ornamental creases and buttons all over it. After eating dinner at a great paladar, we went to a club which was literally located inside a cave. The club entrance at the surface revealed a long stairway down reminiscent of the cave from Aladdin. Once we got to the bottom we went through a narrow passageway and came out into a large cavern. It was amazing – the cave roof must have been about 40 feet above us, but we could still see the different limestone formations like stalactites and stalagmites. The cavern had three different levels for dancing and two bars – it was huge. Other than the fact that it was in a cave, it was just like every other club that we have been to in Cuba.

On our second day in Trinidad we hired a taxi to take us to the Escambray Mountains located a short distance away. After a 45 minute drive up a windy road we arrived at one of Cuba’s national parks. We got out and hiked for another 45 minutes and arrived at a large waterfall that had a nice swimming hole. We swam around for an hour and jumped off one of the rocks into the swimming hole before hiking back.

The swimming hole and the girls being silly

That night we each ate at our own Casas – ours served a delicious dish of curry shrimp, beans, rice, salad and fried viands (we’re still not sure what makes up a viand). After dinner, Jonathan, Ani, Maeve, Zack and I (who were all staying at one Casa) met up with the other group (Emily, Rachael, Gina and Katie) at their house and had a delicious canchanchara – a drink made of rum, water, honey and lime juice. A few of us then went to talk at the park and listen to some of the music at the Casa de la Musica. We even danced a little bit even though a shockingly good German dancer made me feel really self-conscious about my own dance skills.

View of Trinidad and the Escambray Mountains

A car on one of Trinidad's streets

The next day we rented bikes and biked to the beach. Unfortunately, we missed the road to the beach and ended up biking 22 kilometers, 15 more than we were supposed to. Along the way, Zack’s tire blew out, Gina’s chain broke and the whole group split up. It was a total disaster. Fortunately, some nice garbage men picked Gina, Zack and Katie up, put their bikes in the back and drove them the remaining 10 km to the beach. The rest of us straggled to beach eventually. The beach itself, called Playa Ancon, was beautiful. We ate a decent lunch on the beach itself and swam around for a bit before getting two taxis to drive us back with our bikes.

Rachael on the first leg of our 22 km bike ride

After getting into a heated argument with the guy who rented us the bikes, we went back to our Casas to pick up our stuff before we got on the taxi. On the way back, we stopped by Cienfuegos to introduce Jonathan to Casa del Sandwich, making it the fifth time I’d been to that restaurant.

Cienfuegos

I need to apologize to all of you who read this – I’ve fallen behind. I’ll do my best to catch you up.

Three weeks ago we went to Cienfuegos. Cienfuegos is a medium-sized city mid-way across the island on the southern coast. The city is known for its nightlife and music as well as for being the most-architecturally uniform city on the island – a distinction that made it a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Thanks to revenue from that organization and from tourism, the city has been able to restore and maintain a large part of the buildings that make up the city core.

My usual travelling partners of Katie, Maeve and Ani arrived at Cienfuegos on Saturday morning. We checked into our subpar casa particular (the host was a sleazy man of about 50 who dressed 30 years too young and the rooms were dark and lifeless) and quickly left to walk around. There wasn’t too much to actually see in the city itself – the city does have nice late 19^th century neoclassical architecture, but there weren’t many buildings that really stood out to us. One that did was the beautiful home of a Spanish merchant on the far end of the Cienfuegos peninsula which was built in a striking Moorish-Arabic design with some neoclassical elements thrown in.

After walking around for a bit and finding out that the ferry to the famous castle on the other side of the Cienfuegos bay was broken we got lunch at the Casa de Sandwich. It was love at first site. I started talking to a big guy who let people in and out of the restaurant named Darien and he recommended the Cuban sandwich (ironically, the first one we had seen in Cuba) which had three different types of pork and cheese on it. It was absolutely delicious and well worth the 1.5 hour wait. We also made friends with Darien, who gave me his email and phone number. Little did we know that our lunch at the Casa de Sandwich was the first of many forays into that little restaurant.

After lunch we walked around some more and went into a little amusement park to goof off on the go-karts and bumper cars. We then ran into the other part of our group who had come in from Santa Clara that morning – Emily, Rachael, Lily and Zack. We got dinner together at the Casa de Sandwich (2^nd time – Darien was happy to see us) and then went to hang out at one of the docks and the malecon. There was a huge open-air party that we went to briefly before heading back to our respective casas.

One of the more decrepit houses in Cienfuegos

View from the Casa de Cultura of the main square

The next day we woke up and had lunch at – surprise – Casa de Sandwich. After lunch we caught a bus to Rancho Luna, the beach closest to Cienfuegos. The beach was gorgeous. I also got to play around with my camera and took a multiple exposure shot of Ani jumping around the beach.

We had a tough time getting back to Havana – the cab driver that we had arranged to pick us up did not come at 8 like he said he would; he showed up at 8:30 saying his car was broken and that we would have to wait until 4 am to leave. Naturally we were angry about this and went about trying to figure another way back to Havana. After trying for four hours (including two hours at the Casa de Sandwich where Darien tried his best to get us a ride from some of his friends) we finally gave in and arranged to sleep at our Casa till 4. We got up and ready to go, but the taxi never came. After waiting for an hour and walking to the bus station, we gave up and went back to sleep. We got up again at 7 and ran into the taxi driver from night before and I yelled at him for a few minutes before he scampered off and got us a driver who finally drove us back. It was a bad end to an otherwise enjoyable weekend.

News in Cuba

Last Thursday I was watching CNN at one of the hotels where we take dance class and suddenly saw Havana in the news. It appears that the Ladies in White, a group of women who are vociferous critics of the government, marched down the streets of Habana Vieja clamoring for the release of 75 Cuban journalists who were arrested in 2003. The march was peaceful and it seemed like there wasn’t too much police interference, maybe because it was held in such a touristy area, but we would have never found out about it had it not been reported by an international news agency (CNN and other international news channels are viewable in hotels and resorts but not anywhere else).

Most of the habaneros that we talked to were unaware of the march and frankly didn’t seem too interested in it anyway. What was considered by CNN to be important enough to make it into the top world headlines was barely noticed here in Cuba. It’s a sad statement of fact that free journalism doesn’t exist here. Anything that does make into the major dailies – Granma, Juventud Rebelde and a number of other workers’ newspapers – are so full of political spin that it is almost impossible to tell what is fact and what the government wants you to think is fact.

The Haitian earthquake is a good example. For the first month after the earthquake, Granma published a front-page article everyday concerning two different topics relating to the earthquake: US actions in Haiti, and Cuba’s contribution of doctors of nurses to recovery efforts. Cuba’s media, which denounces most American actions as imperialist and neo-colonizing, actively sought to portray US actions as an aggressive military occupation of the country (the images it printed of a US Army Blackhawk helicopter landing on Haiti’s presidential palace didn’t help); on the other hand, it painted a rosy picture of Cuba’s sending of doctors to Haiti as the perfect counterpoint to US aggression.

Of course, Cuba’s medical diplomacy is laudable and praise-worthy. Cuba still maintains more than a thousand doctors in Haiti who have proven invaluable to relief efforts there. But to portray the sending of US Marines to the country as a military occupation, especially after Haiti asked for US assistance, is clearly political. Had the US not sent its military, Cuban doctors would not have had an airport to land at. US Marines provided security and order to a country that badly needed both. Nor did the Cuban media mention the American public’s reaction to the tragedy, including hundreds of millions of dollars raised in donations and humanitarian missions by both NGOs and the US government. The articles published by the Cuban media reflect the political goals of the Cuban government.

Of course the US media is by no means perfect. As our professors here were quick to point out, many of the US’s major news outlets are run by corporations that have their own economic and political interests in mind. Fox News among others has demonstrated a clear political spin, and all of them have practiced self-censorship. But it is just impossible to compare the journalism in the US to that of Cuba. We get really excited when someone's relative brings us a copy of the New York Times because it makes Granma look like a high school newspaper.

The Cuban government’s restrictions on the free press aren’t all encompassing – the fact that I can publish this blog is proof of that. Indeed, many Cubans have been able to publish their own opinions on their own blogs and websites, most notably Yoanni Sanchez, who publishes Generation Y, a blog critical of the government. The Cuban Revolution has many faults and the lack of freedom of speech is one of them. Hopefully politicians here will realize that a free press can promote a healthy and constructive dialogue in the future.

Waiting and waiting and waiting

The most frustrating thing that we’ve experienced in Cuba is its infernal and inefficient bus system, or, more precisely, the system used to buy bus tickets. Cuba has two national bus lines – Astro and Viazul. The latter is used mainly by tourists and works just like any other bus line in the world: you go to their ticket office at the bus station and buy tickets for whatever day you want. Viazul prices vary but are usually about 4 to 5 CUC per hour, so tickets to Cienfuegos or Trinidad cost around 20 CUC. Astro, the line used by Cuban nationals, charges only around 50 moneda nacional (2 CUC) for the very same ticket – so instead of paying 40 CUC, we end up paying only 4 CUC. Given our absolute aversion to buying anything in CUC, it stands to reason that we would want to buy the cheapest tickets possible. This means, however, that we have to brave the Astro ticket system, perhaps the most mind-blowingly inefficient system ever devised by human beings, which takes any poor soul who dares face it to the very far limits of human mental endurance.

The buses themselves aren't bad. The system is another story.

Ok, so it’s bad, but not that bad. After having a more or less delirious experience waiting for four hours at the ticket reservation agency last week to get cheap tickets to Santa Clara, Maeve, Ani and I decided to once again attempt to buy tickets with Astro, this time to Cienfuegos. Because of our experience last time, I decided it’d be interesting to keep a log of what actually happened in our adventure to the Astro station.

12:30 PM

We got to the ticket agency and called for “ultimo” – last person. The line doesn’t seem too bad – only around twenty people ahead of us. The system works like this: you get in line outside of the ticket agency. The line that we stand in is to get into the “cage” – a small waiting area surrounded by a green chain-linked fence capable of seating about twenty people. Once you get into the cage, you sit down and watch all the people in front of you go in to actual ticket office, where you tell the person sitting at the desk where you’re going. Once you do that, you go outside into the cage and wait until everyone who is sitting in the cage gets called into the office, where you wait until you can buy your ticket. The problem is not so much the process itself as it is the system. Because Cuba’s lacks any sort of internet grid, everything needs to be done by phone. This means that every time every person buys any ticket going anywhere at any point in time, the ticket-sellers must call every other ticket office in Havana to make sure that those seats haven’t been reserved, and then they have to call every one of those ticket offices again to actually reserve the seats. The end result is that what would ordinarily take only five minutes anywhere else in the world takes a soul-crushing five hours. We spend more time waiting in line for the ticket than it takes to actually get to wherever you’re going.

The line outside the cage at 12:30

We’re a little more optimistic about the line today, since it’s not so long. I’m guessing that we’re only going to have to be here for three hours – hopefully.

1:30 PM

The line still hasn’t moved and it’s been an hour. Maeve went to go get some ice cream to cheer us up. I talked to several of the men standing in front of us and asked them what they thought of the line and he replied that it is probably the most inefficient system he’s seen in Cuba – and that’s saying a lot. “You can be a Revolutionary when you come in here,” he said, point at the cage, “but you won’t be one when you leave.”

A little comfort food: ice cream

2:30 PM

A lady came out of the ticket office and told everyone who was standing in line outside of the cage to get in order. Because the lines take so long, people usually just call “ultimo en fila” – last person in line – and memorize that person. When the next person comes up and asks for “ultimo”, you raise your hand and memorize that person as well. Once you’ve done that, you can walk around the area, find a place to sit or even go buy ice cream, because you’re almost assured that the line won’t budge. Cutting in line in Cuba is akin to stealing, a major social taboo especially for long lines like these.

Waiting in line and pretending to be mad

The lady who told us to get organized is letting people into the cage in groups of around twenty at a time. We were around 35th in line and so didn’t make into the cage just yet, but hopefully we will after they work through the group that just went in. There’s a very real possibility that the office will close before we are able to get into the cage, but I don’t want to think about that. I don’t think that the American University students who showed up an hour after us are going to make it.

3:30 PM

We’re in the cage! The man standing in line after Maeve was literally the last person in before they shut the doors to the cage. We got lucky – I don’t think the workers here are giving the people still standing outside the cage a chance.

Inside the cage

4:30 PM

To paraphrase the ubiquitous Revolutionary motivational phrase, “Tiquetes o muerte, venceremos!” – Tickets or death, we will win! We finally made it into the ticket office itself where we were told that we should have come earlier to buy tickets to Santa Clara. Now we’re just sitting in yet another waiting room hoping that the three ladies sitting at windows in front of us call us next. We probably have a while to go.

5:00 PM

For shame! The AU students who arrived an hour and a half after we did and only just came into the third waiting room just got their tickets! They must have paid off the ticket lady to get them the tickets quickly, because they very clearly just skipped about thirty people waiting with us. The whole process is getting to be ridiculous. I talked to the man next to me and he told me that he had been there since 8 AM – and I thought I was upset.

In the inside waiting room, at last!

I remember what a lady who may have been losing her mind told us the last time we bought tickets: “It’s a psychological war that they’re fighting against all the bus passengers. The Americans were right – they said that they didn’t have to fire a single shot here because Cubans were going to kill each other anyway, and that’s what’s going to happen at this ticket office. If I have to wait one more day for a bus ticket, I am going to lose my mind!”

5:30 PM

Free at last! After five hours of waiting in three different waiting areas, we finally got through to the ticket-seller and got our tickets to Cienfuegos. The tickets only cost 54 moneda nacional, or about $2. The question is, is it worth it?

Finally buying the tickets

Celebrating outside the cage

(pictures by Ani Goerdt)

Santa Clara

In 1958, a thirty-year old doctor from Argentina ordered his small platoon of rebel soldiers to destroy the rails on the tracks leading into the small central city of Santa Clara. Within an hour, an armored military train carrying soldiers, weapons and munitions for the dictatorial Batista regime derailed on the spot and was surrounded by the rebels. The surrender of the train set in motion a rapid chain of events that led to the exile of the dictator Fulgencio Batista, the arrival of the Argentine, Ernesto “Ché” Guevara to Havana and the triumph of the Cuban Revolution on January 1^st, 1959.

Che Guevara, newly naturalized as a Cuban citizen, made Santa Clara his home in the months after the Revolution. Katie, Maeve, Ani and I decided to visit the city precisely because of the historical connection between the city and el comandante. Our visit was brief but good. We managed to get Astro (the national bus line which is far cheaper than the tourist line – only 2 CUC compared to 18 CUC) tickets for 6 am on Saturday (after waiting for them for three and a half hours on Wednesday). We arrived at Santa Clara at 10 and walked from the bus station to our Casa Particular, which the guide book described as a “national treasure”. It was very nice – the rooms we got were decorated with an eclectic mix of art deco and colonial antique furniture.

Top: the patio of the Casa where we slept. Above: one of the rooms at the Casa Particular

After checking in, we got lunch at a peso pizza place and then caught a ride on a horse carraige to the Che monument and mausoleum.

Enjoying peso pizza in Parque Vidal

Horse carriage - the main mode of transportation in Santa Clara

Che Guevara left Cuba in somewhat mysterious circumstances. Up to that point, he had been Minister of Industry, an important position in a government that had declared itself as socialist in 1962; however, Che grew restless in his new country and clashed with Fidel Castro about the way the country was going. He became obsessed with “exporting” the revolution to other countries, a policy that under his influence was officially adopted by the Cuban government as “foquismo”. In 1965, Che sent Fidel his resignation letter, renounced his Cuban citizenship and disappeared. He reappeared in the Democratic Republic of the Congo with a band of Cuban followers and tried to instigate a revolution; however, he became frustrated with the lack of commitment and cohesion between the rebel forces in the Congo. He disappeared again and showed up in Bolivia, where he tried once again to lead a peasant revolution. His revolutionary fervor blinded him to the realities of Bolivia and led him to misjudge the Bolivian people. In 1968 he was betrayed by the very peasants that he had been trying to save but who had always viewed him and his movement with suspicion. He was summarily executed by the Bolivian army with the express approval of the U.S. and buried in an unmarked grave.

Fidel Castro marked Che’s death by declaring him the ideal man, an example to which every Cuban should strive to be. He has since become a symbol of the Revolution and of rebellion not only in Cuba but around the world. His image has been rampantly commercialized, especially his iconic photograph that was made into pop-art by Andy Warhol. It is ironic that the man who despised capitalism and sought to overthrow has made millions of dollars in profit for t-shirt companies in the US and Europe.

In 1997, Che’s remains were discovered and brought to Santa Clara, where the government erected a massive monument and plaza to his legacy. A mural depicts his actions in the battle of Santa Clara; next to it, stands a rather ugly statue of him emblazoned with his iconic phrase: ¡Hasta la victoria siempre! - to victory forever. Underneath the monument is a museum with artifacts from his various expeditions and his remains, along with those of the men who fought with him in Bolivia.

After visiting the monument, we walked back to the city center and bought some soda on the rooftop of the Hotel Santa Clara Libre, another important battle site. We then walked to the site where the trains had been derailed and checked out the museum inside some of the boxcars that are still on the site of the derailing. On our way back to the Casa, an enterprising old man tried to sell us some puppies for a dollar each, an offer that was very difficult for Maeve, Ani and Katie to refuse.

At the site of the train derailment

View from above of Parque Vidal and the rest of Santa Clara

We had dinner at the Casa and had lobster with shrimp – it was absolutely delicious. We ate dinner with two Dutch girls that we had met earlier that day. They were backpacking through Cuba without a schedule or itinerary, something which I would love to do if I had time. After dinner, we went to a club called Mejunje which was really cool – it was in an old building with no roof and had trees growing in it. We found out when we walked in that it was gay night, so for the first time I got more hit on by men than the girls. It ended up being really fun though and they played some American music which we got excited about.

After the club, we walked to Parque Vidal, Santa Clara’s main square, which is closed off to traffic. Tons of Cubans were out late so it was fun to talk and people watch.

Some anti-American grafitti on one of Santa Clara's main streets. The bubble reads: "Yes Mom, I'll take care of the terrorists"

We decided to head back to Havana early so that we could have time in the city, but we ended up waiting in the standby line for the bus for four hours without getting any closer to getting tickets, so we ended up getting a private taxi back to Havana for 15 CUC each. We didn’t have any trouble on the highway and got back to the residence by 6.

Viñales

On Saturday, Ani, Emily, Lily, Rachael, Katie and I went to Viñales, a small touristy town located in the eastern province of Pinar del Rios, the heart of Cuban tobacco production. Some people from our group had already gone to Viñales a few weeks ago and had highly recommended visiting, so we got up early to catch the bus. Unfortunately, the Viazul bus (the state company that runs buses for tourists) decided to not pick us up at the bus station and we were delayed four hours. The ride itself wasn’t bad – Viñales is only three hours from Havana. We arrived at four and saw the León León who I had talked to on the phone about arranging a casa particular waiting for us with a sign.

The town center

León and his wife were very hospitable and brought us some guava juice while we registered with our passports. I stayed in his house in one room while Emily and Lily stayed in the other room; the other girls stayed in rooms next door.

The whole town is obviously geared towards tourism – almost every other house was a casa particular and there were a couple of touristy restaurants located in the very small town center. Viñales attracts many foreigners because of the countryside that surrounds it – beautiful little mountains called mogotes which are the remnants of an ancient limestone plateau. Underground rivers eroded the plateau from underneath, causing much of the plateau to collapse and creating large limestone caves in those that didn’t. The whole area is also the center of tobacco production – Pinar del Rio’s soil is the best in the world for cigar making.

Because we arrived late, we didn’t have time to go to some of the caves that we wanted to go see. Instead, we walked around the town and found a small botanical garden that we got lost in for a while.

Entrance to the botanical garden

León and his wife made us a delicious dinner that consisted of chicken, rice, soup, fried root vegetables, salad and more (we asked if they had lobster which we had heard was good around here but they told us that only the government was allowed to sell lobster to tourists).

Before dinner

After

After dinner, we went to the only night club in the area and danced. The place was packed but we still had a good time.

Sunday morning we got up and had a massive breakfast of eggs, bread, guava jam and fruit in Maeve and Ani’s casa particular. At nine we were picked up by two cars and taken to a farm in the outskirts of Viñales where we got on horses that seemed far too skinny to support any human weight – it was sad.

Maeve on her horse

Our guide led us out into the countryside where we admired the mogotes and talked about Cuban farm production.

A mogote

We got to visit a tobacco farm and got to talk to the campesino – farmer – whose land it was. He said really interesting things – the government technically doesn’t own his land, but it tells them that a certain percentage of their land has to go to the production of tobacco, even if producing other crops are more profitable. During harvest time, the government sends workers to help pick the tobacco and set it to dry; it also provides the fertilizers and chemicals necessary for good growing conditions. In the spring, the campesinos pick the tobacco plants – each level of leaves – top, middle and bottom – are set on different racks to dry.

The tobacco is grown and then dried in the brown straw building

The government then buys ninety percent of the harvest for a set amount based on the quality of the tobacco leaves and sends it to the tobacco factories (h. The man who was leading our tour told us he made around $300 for last year’s bumper harvest – a sum that has to last the entire year. To supplement his income, he grows other crops: corn, root vegetables, tomatoes and more, which he also sells to the government. He uses the ten percent that he gets to keep to cater to tourists like us – we ended up buying 36 cigars for 60 CUC, or one-fifth of what he got paid by the government for his harvest last year. It was really interesting to see how involved the government really is in every aspect of life here.

Making the coconut drink

After enjoying a delicious drink of coconut milk with rum, grapefruit juice and honey and smoking a cigar, we got back on our horses and went back to the town. After a miserable lunch that took entirely too long (45 minutes to bring a menu? Come on, Cuba), we walked up to a hotel on a hill overlooking the city and played frisbee. We caught the 6 pm bus back and we were back at the Residence by 10.

An old dilapidated church in Vinales town center