Wednesday and Thursday in Madrid: Chinchon, Tennis, Jarama, and Botin

Buenas tardes,

I have had a busy and exciting couple of days in Madrid. On Wednesay, I spent most of the day in Chinchon, a small town about 30 miles or so from Madrid. Although not connected to the train, it was easy and cheap to get to by commuter, bus passing through olive groves on the way. Chinchon is a popular day trip from Madrid for tourists and Spaniards, especially on the weekends. Fortunately, I was there in the middle of the week and had it all almost completely to myself. After having second breakfast (more Iberian ham!) at a cafe on the Plaza Mayor, I got a map at the tourist office, and started to explore. I stopped first at the Ethnographic Museum which had a lot of artifacts of Chinchon from various time periods, donated by local residents. They had tapestries, clothes, lots of horse riding equipment, tax receipts, pictures, etc. It was quite enjoyable. After that, I really just walked around. Chinchon has lots of narrow old streets and is quite hilly. I got some great shots from the little park in front of the Church of Our Lady of Assumption. The church has an altar painting by Goya, but I didn't get to see it because it was closed. I also saw the nearby clock tower which used to be part of a church but the church has long been gone. This gives rise to the saying, "Chinchon tiene una torre sin iglesia, y una iglesia sin torre" (Chinchon has a tower without a church and a church without a tower). I had a nice quiet lunch at a cafe near a former convent that is now a hotel. Afterward, I walked to the ruins of the Castle of Chinchon which is almost completely surrounded by a fence as it is private property. However, there was a space between two posts that didn't have fencing and so I walked through and was able to see it more up close and walk on the bridge over the dry moat. Despite not being able to go inside, it was worth it for the views of the Jarama Valley and the skyline of Madrid off in the distance. And that was it for my trip to Chinchon. I picked up the bus and came back to Madrid, where I spent several hours just resting and cooling off. The sun has been unrelenting. Although it's only been in the low 70s, it has felt like an oven at times. And it doesn't seem to matter at all that it's a very dry heat.  Can't imagine being here in July. There is AC at my hotel but it's just so so. The Europeans just don't do AC like we Americans.

While I cooled off, I watched a little bit of the Rafa Nadal tennis match on the TV. This was as close as I got to seeing him in Madrid. But I did have a ticket to the night session (8pm) at the Madrid Open. The tennis tournament takes place this time every year in the Caja Magica (magic box) tennis venue on the south side of Madrid. This is the nicest sports facility that I have ever seen. It was practically sparkling it was so clean and modern (the concourses were carpeted!). It was hard to believe I was still in Spain because there was nothing like this when I lived here 30 years ago. My ticket was for the main stadium and I got to see American Jessica Pegula play Spainard Sorribes Tormo and the Greek Stefanos Tsitsipas play the Frenchman Lucas Pouille. Ironically, I had seen Pouille before at the US Open in an amazing match where he beat Nadal. He wasn't playing near as well last night. Tsitsipas won the first set and I was so tired and it was so late, that I decided to leave and go to bed, knowing I had an early morning today. But I am glad I went and got to see some tennis on clay in a foreign country. And as nice as the stadium was, I do have a few critiques: You could not take any food into the stands (probably why it is so clean), there were no water fountains (I realize they're a rarity in Europe), and when you bought bottled water they kept the lid, preventing you from refilling it in the bathroom. No me gusta. Another strange thing was that despite having to go through a gate and get your ticket scanned to get into the larger facilty, every time you left the stadium to do anything, you had to have it scanned and then rescanned when you went back in; I have no idea why. Nevertheless, it was a nice evening and I'm glad I got to see such an amazing facility. Spain has certainly become wealthier in the last 30 years, for better or worse (I don't remember seeing homeless people here before, for example).

Today, I met Almudena "Almu" (who had given me my tour this past Monday), an expert on the Battle of Jarama, Severino "Seve" Montero, and guide in training, Carlos, at 9am near the Atoche train station and we drove out to the "valley" of the Jarama river to explore about 10 sites related to the battle that took place there in Februrary 1937 (I say valley because it's really more like a large plane surrounding the river with hills in various spots; an enormous area of many sqare miles). During the Civil War, many foreign volunteers came to Spain to fight on the side of the Republic, including many from the United States. These groups were known as the International Brigades and one of the battalioins within the brigades was the Abraham Lincoln Battalion. Most of the tour today was about and in honor of the International Brigades. Seve is an expert about the brigades and the battle. He knew dates when troops arrived, where they were stationed, the names of those who died, etc. We spent most of the morning speaking Spanish. I understood almost everything and when I didn't I asked Almu to translate. We stopped in numerous places, hills covered with weeds, olive groves (many that I had passed the day before), almond orchards, a small town, and a cemetery. Everywhere we saw evidence of the war: machine gun nests, lots and lots of trenches, discarded shells, and many monuments. It was a fascinating day. At one point, we stopped at a memorial that Almu and her husband had made to the Abraham Lincoln Battalion near an olive grove where a lot of fighting had happened, some of at very close range. I asked for a moment to just look and reflect which they were happy to give me. I found it very moving to think of so many Americans giving their lives for a cause they believed in in a country that wasn't theirs. Many of the volunteers who made it back to the US were later black listed during the red scare and couldn't find work. So they sacrificed a lot. Many African Americans volunteered in the brigades where they were treated like any other soldier and completely integrated into the battalion. At the end of the tour, we stopped in the town of Morata de Tajuna where we stopped for a beer and then went to the local cemetery to see a monument over a mass grave. The monument was put there during the socialist premiership of Felipe Gonzalez in the 1990s at the insistence of Edward Heath (former Conservative British PM) of all people. As we were reading the inscription, a man came by with flowers that he was going to put on another grave and he told us that he and his father (the local grave digger) had built the monument. He told us all about how the grave had been moved from one part of the cemetery to the spot where the monument is now, how they built it, the trees they planted in memory, etc. An amazing coincidence and I loved hearing his story. It was a great way to cap off what had been a fascinating tour. Seve dropped us all off near the train station once again, and I took Almu to get a drink and had a light lunch, before returning to my hotel to rest and write.

Thirty two years ago when one of our professors took us on a tour of Hapsburg Madrid (most of the historic center), we passed a restaurant called Sobrino de Botin. We were told that Hemingway at eaten there, that it was the oldest restaurant in the world (according to the Guiness Book of World Records), that the painter Goya once worked there, and that it was one of the best, if not the best, in Madrid. At the time I didn't even think of going there because I didn't have much money as a student. Well, I finally got to eat there tonight and it was worth the wait. The restaurant has been in continuous existence since 1725 and their specialty is roast suckling pig (20 weeks old, I think). I was seated in the basement room which was more like a cave and ordered the house menu which consited of garlic soup, 1/4 roast suckling pig with potatoes, dessert, half a bottle of wine, water, and bread. It was wonderful. However, eating a quarter pig on the bone with a knife and fork was a bit of a chore and I resisted the urge to pick it up and eat it with my fingers. Part way through my meal I had a lovely conversation with a couple next to me who was from Argentina but who now live in Weston, Florida near Fort Lauderdale. I took a picture of them and promised to send it to their email address and to keep in touch. That is the kind of experience that I never have when I'm traveling with another person; one of the benefits of solo travel. And when I eat by myself I always take something to read so I don't feel awkward.

Anyway, after dinner I decided I needed a walk so I walked down to the Cibeles Fountain in front of the Palacio de Comuncaciones and took some pictures. This is one of my favorite spots in Madrid and just stood and stared at it for a while. It is normally surrounded by Spanish flags but for now they are flying the flags of Spain and Ukraine. After taking several photos, I walked up the Gran Via and back to my hotel to finish this entry and go to bed. I am not setting an alarm tomorrow and have no firm plans other than to get a COVID test so that I can get back into the US on Saturday. I am having a wonderful time!

Good night.

Bill aka Carey aka Guillermo

Third day in Madrid: Memory Lane

 Buenas noches,

I spent most of today walking down memory lane. After breakfast, I took the 150 bus from the center of Madrid to the area around the Santiago Bernabeu soccer stadium, the home of Real Madrid. I say the bus number only because the number and the route are the same as they were 32 years ago which I find fascinating. MARTA buses change routes all the time in Atlanta. Anyway, I enjoyed the drive up the Paseo de la Castellana, a wide tree lined boulevard that connects the central city to the neighborhoods and, eventually the suburbs, to the north. There are fountains and/or statues at almost every intersection and much of it was very familiar to me. The neighborhood where I lived is called El Viso in the Chamartin district of Madrid. A lot of El Viso consists of detached houses, but there are also a lot of apartment buildings along the edge of the neighborhood close to la Castellana. This is where I lived: Calle Santiago Bernabeu 2-6-izquierda. As in number 2, sixth floor, left apartment. Anyway, during my time in Madrid I lived with a widow and her son and a friend of mine from Furman. We referred to her affectionately as la Senora (I don't know how to do the tilde sign over the n). Her name is Ana Cervantes. I tried to get ahold of her prior to my trip by various means (FB messages to her children, telephone, Google, obituaries, etc.) to no avail. Unfortunately, her name is very very common. Kind of like trying to find Anne Johnson in NYC. So I decided to just ring the bell for the apartment. There was no response but the porter saw me and let me in and we talked for about 10 minutes. He told me she is still alive, although very old (90 or so), and that she now lives in a nursing home but he didn't know where. Her daughter now lives in the apartment with her husband. I knew the daughter as well because she came to lunch almost every day. I left a message with the porter to give her with the name and number of my hotel and a note about who I was. I am hoping she remembers me because her mother and I traded Christmas cards for a number of years. 

Just being on the street and especially in the lobby of the building brought back many many good memories of my time in Madrid. However, the neighborhood has changed a bit. It was always one of the nicer neighborhoods, but didn't seem special or out of the ordinary to me at the time. According to the Internet, however, it is now the wealthiest neighborhood of Madrid. And it showed. For example, the 7-11 across the street is now a boutique spa. As I walked around, I saw numerous expensive looking clothing stores, expensive cars, and very well dressed people. In addition, the soccer stadium just around the corner is now twice as large as it once was and is being expanded again. The area around it was mess of cranes, constructions fences, and road blocks. Still, I enjoyed walking around and taking pictures. When I was done there, I took the same bus that I took as a student (the number 147) to get o the Chamberi neighborhood where the school I attended used to be. I took pictures of the building and then decided to sit in the nearby square and just look around. I recognized several of the buildings and the entrance to a parking garage, even though I hadn't thought of these in 30 years. I remember hanging out with friends in that park between classes when we'd get a snack from the bakery across the street. I remember the nearby secondary school that is still there. I remember a lot which is a blessing. It was a little emotional for me, because I had no idea then how important my time there would be in my life. But my time in Madrid opened my eyes to another culture, a different way of living, etc. I would not be who I am today without having had that experience.

After 15 or so minutes of nostalgia, I walked to the nearby former home of Spanish impresionist painter Joaquin Sorolla, who has become one my favorites. In fact, a print of one of his paintings hangs over my bed at home. Anyway, the home is now a museum showcasing his work. We went there several times when I was a student and I recognized a lot, especially the gardens and the main salon. So happy I got to go again. After about an hour there, I made my way to a nearby Metro station and traveled to the Moncloa district where the school, Centro de Estudios Hispanicos Antonio de Nebrija, is now located. The school still has a relationship with Furman University. There I met up with my former art history teacher Marisa Lopez. She was so happy to see me as was I to see her again. We spent the next four hours together, only speaking Spanish. First we went to a tavern for lunch where we had Iberian Ham (incredible!), fried eggplant, deep fried shark bites, and Mahou beer. Everything was delicious. We talked about the Civil War, about our familes, about her time a few years ago teaching at Furman, food, and many other things. At one point, when the waiter came to take our order, she told him we needed more time because we hadn't seen eachother in 30 years. Lol. After lunch, we walked over the Parque del Oeste (western park), around the rose garden, to the Plaza de Espana and the Cervantes monument. We took several selfies and talked about life things. How young I was. How innocent. How hard life can be some times. About loss and joy, history, art, music, language, etc. It was an absolute joy to spend the afternoon with her and when we parted I promised her that I wouldn't let another 30 years go by without visiting. Indeed, I have a feeling I will be back again and again. At least, I hope so. I walked back to the hotel which was not far and got a little emotional along the way, feeling enormously grateful for my time here and that I can still speak the language. What a gift that has been, even though I've never used it for work or made a dime off of this skill. It doesn't matter. If you have kids in school, encourage them to learn another language; it doesn't matter which one. They will never regret it.

Anyway, I didn't have much time after returning to the hotel, because I had a reservation for Flamenco and an early dinner (7pm!) at the Torres Bermejas next door to the hotel. The food was OK but the dancing was amazing. I had never been to a traditional Flamenco show, so this was a treat. Here is a video of the kind of dancing that I saw (fast forward to 12 minutes to see what I saw, more or less; I think every performance is different). I loved the music and the intense emotion in the faces and the dancing. It looked exhausting. But it was a great way to end what has been an emotional day. I hope I hear from the Senora's daughter, but if I don't, I know I did all I could to contact her. And I'm grateful to have spent much of the day with Marisa, another person who meant a lot to me.

I plan to turn in early tonight so that I can get up a little earlier tomorrow for a day trip to Chinchon, a nearby village. More on that later. Buenas noches.

Bill aka Carey aka Guillermo.

First two days in Madrid

Buenas noches amigos!

Good evening. I have had two great days so far in Madrid. For those of you who don't know, I spent a smester in Madrid during the fall of my junior year at Furman University in 1990, one of the best experiences of my life. This is my first time back and it feels really good to be here, especially as an adult after having traveled a bit and being much more mature or at least I like to think so. I arrived yesterday around 8:30 and the first thing I did after leaving my bags at my hotel was to have Churros y Chocolate for breakfast, a Spanish tradition. I then walked around in the old quarter around the Plaza Mayor and the Rastro Sunday flea market, and made my way to the Almudena Cathedral. Compared to other Spanish cities, Madrid's cathedral was built late, beginning in the 19th century, pausing for the Civil War in the 1930s, and finally finished in 1992, after I left Madrid. I enjoyed seeing it for the first time and it was quite beautiful, but not as ornate as others I've seen. The cathedral is built on the edge of central Madrid next to the Royal Palace overlooking the Casa de Campo park (former hunting grounds of the monarchy) and is very close to the old Moorish walls of the city. I also went to the crypt downstairs which was a little spooky with numerous chapels for various families and the grave of Franco's daughter, Carmen Franco Polo. I asked the woman at the front desk if it was his daugher or granddaughter because I wasn't sure and then got an earful about "how awful it was that the government wouldn't let them move Franco's body to the crypt..." blah, blah, blah. I just tuned her out as I certainly didn't care to discuss it further. I made my way back to the hotel where I was finally able to check in and take a nap. At least I tried to take a nap, but it was unterupted by a May day parade complete with drums and slogans, passing along the Gran Via next to my hotel. But I did get some rest.

I eventually got up and looked for lunch. When I lived here before, my roommate and I often missed the USA and went to Burger King and MacDonald's all the time. Determined not to do that this time, I had tapas at a bar ("bar" in Spain means much more than what we think of as a bar in America; they are in general small restaurants where you can get almost anything at a low price) in the old city. I ate Tortilla Espanol (Spanish potato omelet; in Spain, "tortilla" means omelet) and croquetas de jamon (Ham croquettes) and drank a Mahou, the local beer. It was all delicious. Up until then, it felt a little surreal being in Madrid after what seemed like a short flight. But as I stood there at the bar (most bars in Spain are for standing), eating my tapas, drinking my Mahou, I looked around and watched the locals, and listened to them. The distinct Madrid accent and the gestures along with the food brought it all back for me and I realized in my heart that I was really back in Spain and felt wonderfully familiar.

Later at 6:30 I met up with a guide and 10 others for a history and tapas walking tour of Madrid put on by Devour Tours. For the next four hours, we explored several squares of old Madrid, learned a little history, and stopped at four different places for tapas and drinks. I am ashamed to say it, but I did not do much tapas hopping when I was in Madrid before (too busy eating at BK, etc. LOL) so this was indeed a treat. I tried vermouth for the first time, which in Spain is a sweet version drunk as an appertif before dinner, and tinto de verano, sort of fast sangria made with red wine and club soda or sometimes lemon soda. Both were delicious. I also had red wine. For the tapas, my favorite were mushrooms cooked in olive oil, and topped with a piece of chorizo. The mushrooms had the stems removed, were upside down, and held some of the olive oil in this natural "bowl." They came with two toothpicks so that you could pick it up and put it in your moth without spilling any of the oil. They were the best mushrooms I've ever had. So much flavor! Later, I also tried, for the first time, anchoves soaked in vinegar, sweat bread (pig thalumus), and pig's ear. Too my surpirse, the pig's ear was my least favorite of the three (too much cartelage and fat) and the sweat bread was my favorite. Tasted like beef but softer. Who knew? I would not have touched it 30 years ago. During the tour, we passed by a bar with a sign that said in English "this is Madrid; don't ask me for Paella." Although in the US, we associate paella with Spain, Spain is actually very regional, and paella is more of a specialty on the coast, especially in Valencia. You can get it in Madrid, but there's a good chance it was frozen and heated up in a microwave. No thanks. After the tour, I returned to my hotel and crashed, exhauted but satisfied.

Today, after breakfast, I went to the Queen Sofia (mother of the current King, Felipe VI) Art Museum (Museo de Arte National Reina Sofia) which did not exist when I was here before. The museum houses the national collection of art from 1881 onward and contains mainly modern art such as Picasso, Dali, Miro, etc. The "star" of the museum, is Picasso's masterpiece Guernica which was housed elsewhere when I was in Madrid as a student (it was once at the MOMA in NYC but returned to Spain after Franco's death in the 1970s). It is the cover phot on my Facebook page and was painted in memory of the victims of the bombing of the small town of Guernica by the German Condor Legion during the civil war of the 1930s. I spent about 20 minutes looking at it and thinking about the horror of war that it portrays. How sad that the same thing is happening today in Ukraine. I also admired other works of his and spent about an hour and a half in the museum.

After that, I grabbed a quick ham sandwich (bocadillo de jamon and not the plain ham we have in the USA, but cured ham similar to prosciutto) and then met my guide for the afternoon, Almudena Cros, in the Puerta del Sol for my walking tour of Civil War sites in Madrid. Almudena is a history professor for Suffolk University (online programs) and is an activist for the historical memory of the civil war. Her parents were both active in the fighting on the side of the Republic. I will not go into details about the war, as that would take days or months, or even years. But if you want to read about the basics, you can go to Wikipedia. Madrid was the last city to fall to Franco and the Nationalists. The front line of the war very quickly came very close to Madrid. Just a mile or two from the central city in the Casa de Campo park which is a giant public park that used to be the hunting ground for the kings. At various times, the line came closer and was pushed back. The International Brigades, volunteers from around the world who came to Spain to fight for the republic, were instrumental in the defense of Madrid. The woman I lived with when I did foreign study did not speak much of the war, but she did tell us about seeing bombs go off in the street, friends being killed, and her father being in prison after the war. People in Madrid back then did not like to talk about the war or Franco. She did some but she would alwasy get very upset and so I learned not to ask too many questions. Unfortunately, we didn't learn much in school either and what I have learned I have researched on my own since my studies here. The tour today was something I had dreamed about for a long time. I love history! It is my passion and the civil war is fascinating. We went to several sites in central Madrid where bombs had exploded, etc. She had over 100 pictures and maps that we looked at. Unfortunately, one could easily come to Madrid and never know that any type of war had take place here or that it was a crucial spot during the war. There are no historical markers, no memorials (except for the winners, for the most part), and many just want to forget about it. Almudena is an activist who is fighting to keeep the memory alive. 

After touring the central part of the city, we walked to some other sites and got a good vista overlooking the Casa de Campo, where she pointed out where the frontlines were. In doing that, we walked throught the Plaza de Espana where there is a giant monument to Cervantes, including statues of his famous characters Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. After exploring the area around the old Montana Barracks and the memorial to the nationalists who died there (no mention of the loyalists who also died), we took the Metro (Madrid's subway system) up to the University City the home of the giant Universidad Compultense de Madrid. Unlike the rest of the city, the campus is spread out like a park with buildings from the 30s designed in the Bauhaus style. In one area were two clusters of buildings, each maybe 50 or 100 yards apart where during six weeks, the nationalists had penetrated the republican defenses and both sides shot at each other in close range. We walked around the buildings and looked at the thousands of bullet holes, mortar holes, and places where cheap bricks (Spain was broke after the war) were used to fix the worst damage. Again, no historial markers, memorials, etc. to either side. The only monument is a small one to the International Brigades which took a lot of work to get erected. It is frequently vandalized. This was the end of the tour and after paying Almudena, I walked around a little more and saw a plaque she had told me about on the College of Pharmacy building where Franco basically took credit for opening the University even thought it had opened during the Republic. I also saw more bullet holes. The time went by so fast I couldn't believe it was after 7pm. I will see Almudena again on Thursday when she and I go with another historian to the Jarama battlefield about 10 miles east of Madrid. I look forward to that! Almu and I got along very well. She told me a lot about her family and their history, as well as her experience growing up in Madrid. She and I are the same age and so we also talked a lot about what it was like in the 1990s in Spain. Nice to have made a new friend.

After returning to my hotel via the Metro (twice as extensive and more modern than when I was here before), I walked around old Madrid until I found a nice restaurant that had Rabo de Toro (Oxtail stew) on the menu. I also had Gazpacho, red wine from La Rioja, and cheese cake. I really didn't need the cheese cake. While eating, I read the Spanish daily El Pais, something I did every day when I lived here. It was a lovely way to end a great day. I should mention that today is the Dos de Mayo, a holiday in Madrid that commemorates the popular uprising in 1808 against Napoleon that began the penninsular war (or Guerra de la Indpendencia in Spanish). I thought there would be more going on, but other than speeches in the main square that got rained out, it seemd to be a bit anticlimactic.

Tomorrow, I plan to explore my old neighborhood around the Santiago Bernabeu soccer stadium in the north of the city and meet one of my former teachers for lunch. Hasta luego.

Bill aka Carey aka (in 1990) Guillermo

(please excuse any spelling or grammatical errors; it's late and time for bed)

Final thoughts on Cuba

There were a few things that I wanted to write more about but didn't want to take up space in my earlier entries.  So I figured I'd write them here for those who want to read them.

Money: CUCs vs. CUPs

Cuba is the only country I know of, although there may be others, that has two official currencies.  Historically, Cuba only had the Cuban Peso (CUP).  However, during the "special period" of the 1990s they began to accept dollars as well, mainly in the tourist sector.  Later a new currency for tourism was created, the Cuban Convertible Peso or CUC (pronounced kook), and dollars were eventually not accepted.  The CUC is pegged to the dollar and is worth 25 CUPs.  When you travel to Cuba you can only exchange money for CUCs and they are accepted everywhere.  If you exchange dollars, they charge a 15% fee but if you exchange Euros or Pounds, there is no extra charge.  So I took Euros with me that I got at my bank before leaving.  Even though the CUP is still the national money of Cuba, it appeared that CUCs were accepted everywhere and that everyone would rather have CUCs that CUPs because the latter is virtually worthless.  All the restaurants and shops that we went to only had prices in CUCs with the exception of the FAC which had them posted in both CUCs and CUPs.  Because of this dual currency, Cuba basically has two economies existing simultaneously: the official one in which professionals work for the government and earn about $50 / month in CUPs and tourism (drivers, tour guides, waiters, restaurant owners, etc.) where earnings are in CUCs and unlimited.  I don't see how this is sustainable, especially when needed professionals like doctors would rather be tour guides.  I have read that the government is considering merging the two currencies or abandoning one for the other.  It will be interesting to watch what happens in the next few years.  You can read more about Cuban money here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cuban_convertible_peso

El Paquete

As I mentioned in an earlier entry, the internet in Cuba is not very reliable.  Apparently, it is strictly provided through satellite and frequently kicks one off after a short period of time.  However, the Cubans have come with an ingenious way to get information from the internet, as well as the outside world.  Two Cubans who are supposedly unknown started a scheme called the Paquete or Package to bring Cubans media from the outside world.  No one is exactly sure how they do it, but either from their own internet connections or from contacts in Miami, they are able to regularly download a terabyte of content that can be distributed across the island through a network of distributors.  Cubans who sign up for the Paquete are provided with a Terabyte external hard drive about once a week that is full of music, TV shows, news programs, website contents, movies, etc, subtitled in Spanish.  The content is all organized and labeled and each customer is given an hour or two to download what they want.  Prices range from 1 to 5 CUCs depending on how much is downloaded.  Apparently, the government turns a blind eye or is getting paid off, no one is exactly sure.  One of our guides said she had downloaded some episodes of Dora for her daughter and then two days later those same episodes were on Cuban state television, so many believe they are in on it.  Another guide said she worked during college writing subtitles in the middle of the night for the Paquete.  I think this is a good example at just how creative and adaptive Cuban people are.  The following article explains further how the Paquete works and how it has become a way for Cuban artists to publicize their work: https://www.billboard.com/articles/columns/latin/8455249/cuba-el-paquete-file-exchange

The Blockade

In Cuba the US embargo is known as the Blockade.  Near the airport I saw a large sign that read "Blockade! The longest genocide in human history."  Although, I think that's a bit of an exaggeration, the US embargo has certainly done a great deal of harm, and in my opinion, it has only hurt the Cuban people and been a powerful propaganda tool for the Communist Party.  According to several people I met, whenever things aren't going well for the government, they blame it on the embargo and unite the population by getting everyone angry about it.  The cost of the embargo is clearly visible: Everywhere we went, except for Old Havana, most buildings needed a lot of renovation or at least a paint job.  We learned on the farm that because of the embargo it is nearly impossible to get machinery and supplies for farming.  Much of their work, such as harvesting black beans, is done by hand.  I honestly think ending the blockade would probably bring about the reforms that most Cubans seem to want rather than sticking with what we have doing for 60 years.  That is my opinion and I know reasonable people may disagree.

Soft Capitalism

I mentioned earlier that almost all Cubans have some scheme going on to make more money.  The average Cuban makes the equivalent of $50 / month but needs several hundred to survive.  Even though every Cuban is guaranteed a minimal level of food every month through a rationing system, it is not enough, despite being virtually free.  Our guide Julie told me that the chicken ration for her parents and her was about one thigh and one leg each month, for all three of them!  And fish is no longer guaranteed.  Despite being an island surrounded by fish, I suspect that it is being earmarked for tourists.  Cubans have to buy food at private markets to make up for what the government doesn't provide.  To make up for these shortages and to earn extra money, everyone is doing something on the side.  That might be driving a taxi or working for the Paquete or working part time in tourism or working in tourism and sending money back to your parents, as Julie does,etc.  Julie also said that there is a lot of corruption because everyone is desperate.  So you have this officially Communist country that is dependent not only on tourism but also a soft capitalist economy, and even some corruption, to survive.  And the government knows all about it.  I'm not sure how long that can be sustained either.

Well that's all I have to say.  I had a wonderful trip and I hope I get to back some day.  I would love to see more of the island and meet more Cuban people and experience more of their rich culture.

Here are some photos of my trip to Havana, Cuba. You don't have to be a member of Facebook to see them.

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10218094321735462&type=1&l=faff84ae94

Havana, Cuba: Last two days

Back in the states and trying to finish up my blog posts.  I'm at Starbucks, but the coffee doesn't taste quite the same since I had Cuban coffee every day.  I miss that.  Anyway, I'd like to tell you about my last two days in Havana.  Tuesday, Nov. 13.  We started the day at Callejon de Hamel (Hamel Alley), an alley near old Havana that has been turned into a large display for the artist known as Salvador (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salvador_Gonz%C3%A1les_Escalona).  Every building and wall, etc. on the street is covered in his art and poetry.  All kinds of ordinary objects, like bath tubs have been used to display his colorful drawings and poems. There was a large tribute to Cuban national hero Jose Marti which featured a bathtub on top of a tall column and filled with grass (my cover photo on Facebook is of the Marti tribute).  In addition to the alley, many of the houses along it have been painted inside by him and you can just walk inside and see more. Before walking down the alley, we learned about the Santaria religion which influenced Salvador. I had heard of Santaria growing up in Florida but did not know much about it. It is a cross between Catholicism and native African religions.  Practitioners dress all in white and can be seen all over Havana.

After exploring the alley, we headed to the Ballet Folklorico of Havana. The dancers and musicians put on a performance just for us in their rehearsal space and included numbers inspired by both African and Spanish traditions.  One of their dances involved the men holding Machetes and dancing around with them; fortunately, none of them came loose.  At the end of their performance, they pulled us all up on stage to dance with them.  It was like being at the club the night before all over again except that this dance had a distinct beginning and end.  We all agreed that their performance was one of the highlights of the trip, given the intimate nature of the space.  After we put our shoes back on (had to take them off to protect the floor), we headed to lunch at a Paladar in old Havana where I had Paella de Pollo y Lechon (Chick and Pork with yellow rice); it was delicious but took a long time for them to prepare.

After lunch, we headed to a Salsa class at another dance studio. We had an hour with an instructor who yelled at one of the people in our group for talking while he was teaching; it was hilarious and we laughed about it for the rest of the trip. Anyway, I've never danced Salsa before, and it was a little tricky.  It is based on an eight beat count with the fourth and eighth count being pauses.  So it's really: 1, 2, 3, pause, 5, 6, 7, pause, etc.  Once I got the foot work down, they introduced shoulder moves which completely threw me off.  Still, it was a fun way to spend the afternoon and meet more Cubans and admire their creativity and culture.

Prior to dinner, Joe had a surprise for us. He had arranged for us to ride in old 1950s convertibles (they are everywhere in Havana) to the National Hotel where we all had our pictures taken by a professional photographer.  As we drove down the Malecon, Havana's waterfront boulevard, Joe had the photographer in one of our vans driving along side us taking pictures.  At one point, we were blocking in a driver who got very upset and kept honking.  Otherwise, it was a delightful experience and I will post those pictures as well when I receive them.  Dinner was a two stop affair with us first having drinks and appetizers at the apartment of a local art collector.  He was not home but his sister showed us around his apartment and his collection.  This was one of the nicest apartments I've seen in what was otherwise a bland looking building and was the owner was obviously very wealthy even by America standards.  The furniture was mid-century modern and the art included some artists we had seen earlier in the week.  The collector was a doctor who had spent time working in Panama and making more money than he could ever have made in Cuba.  He not only collects art but promotes local artists.  Still, his wealth I found suspicious in a country with so much poverty.  I couldn't help but think he had some connections with the Communist Party.  Our guide wouldn't say but kind of rolled her eyes when I asked.  Although the apartment was lovely, the AC was not on and it was very hot and humid.  Probably the most uncomfortable I had been in Cuba so far due to the heat and humidity.

After that, we drove out to the house of the collector's sister in the Diez de Octubre neighborhood.  The house was also sort of plain looking on the outside and on an ordinary street with run down buildings, but it was grand inside.  Instead of mid-century modern, it was decorated in a more classic style, also with a lot of art.  Our guide explained that most people with money don't invite people into their homes because they don't want to attract attention.  This was where we ate dinner.  The house was not air conditioned and although it was cool while we ate, when we moved out to the patio for rum and cigars, it was even more hot and humid than it had been at the airport.  Yes, we had cigars and rum.  A cigar and rum sommelier joined us and recommended cigar and rum pairings.  As she also smoked cigars I couldn't help but think of the opera Carmen where the lead Diva smokes cigars and entices away Don Juan.  Anyway, I did not have a cigar but took a few puffs off of someone else's.  I did not see what the big deal was.  But the rum was good and I enjoyed sipping it while a local musician and his band played for us.  At the end of the band's performance, we discovered the singer was the husband of one of our guides.  Other than the heat, it was a lovely relaxing evening and a great way to end our time in Cuba (although my experience wasn't quite finished).

On Wednesday, Nov. 14, my flight wasn't until 2:30pm so I knew ahead of time that I would have some free time in the morning.  After seeing the Hemingway house on Monday, I asked Joe if he could arrange for me to visit the fishing village of Cojimar on Wednesday morning before I left.  Cojimar was the village that inspired Hemingway to write the Old Man and the Sea and he dedicated his Nobel Prize to the fishermen of that village.  I enjoyed the Hemingway house so much that I just had to see the fishing village.  So Joe arranged it for me with Julie who had been our guide at the Hemingway house.  She and a taxi driver picked me up at 8am and we headed east to the village.  On the way there we passed several large sports stadium where the Pan American games had been held; they were decorated with more propaganda about the importance of sports to the revolution, etc.  Anyway, Cojimar is still in the city of Havana but feels remote.  Like other places we had been, most buildings could use some renovation, although I did see one nice house across the street from the ruins of another.  We stopped in the Terraza de Cojimar, a restaurant / bar where Hemingway liked to hang out.  We had to bribe someone to let us in since they were not open yet.  But we saw the table where he liked to sit (they have it roped off) and admired all their pictures of Hemingway in the large dining room over looking the small bay.  We then walked down the water front street to the site of a small Spanish fort and the adjacent monument to Hemingway.  At a small park on the waterfront a lot of young people would gathered because it was a WiFi hotspot.

We weren't in Cojimar too long so on the way back Julie said we could stop at the Christ of Havana statue which overlooks Havana Harbor and old Havana.  The statue predates the revolution by a few years and is similar to ones in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil and Lisbon, Portugal but without his arms spread out.  Instead his left hand is near his waste and his right hand has two fingers held in the sign of a blessing.  However, it is a local joke that from a distance it looks like he is holding a glass of rum in one hand and a cigar in the other.  Julie said some people also call him the sexy Jesus because he is so attractive and has full lips.  We took several pictures and then because we still had time, headed to Revolution Square where Julie took my picture in front of the giant Che Guevara mural on the Ministry of the Interior building.  On the opposite side of the square is the Jose Marti memorial.  The square has been the site of numerous political rallies and speeches by Fidel Castro.  During this part of the trip Julie and I talked a lot about the current situation in Cuba.  I asked her if people believed all the propaganda we saw.  She said most Cubans were apathetic and ignored it and besides, Cubans are now exposed to outside ideas and news because of the internet.  I'll talk more about that in another entry.  Cubans have come up with an ingenious way to see internet content from all over the world despite the spotty internet access in the country.

Before leaving for the airport, I bought two bottles of expensive rum at the hotel.  At the Delta check in, nobody said anything about it.  At passport control, where they stamped my passport "Exit" and took my Visa, nobody said anything.  Then at security, the guard told me in Spanish that I could not take them on the plane (liquids, darn it!  I should have known better).  She said they could only be in checked bags.  I asked if could go back out and check them in and she said no, because I'd already had my passport stamped.  "So what do we do now?" I asked.  "I'm going to take it" she replied.  So without intending to, I treated the airport staff and security to an expensive cocktail hour.  Five minutes later I bought some cheaper rum at the Duty Free shop.

Well that's it.  I had a wonderful time and the whole experience felt more like a cultural immersion than a sightseeing trip.  I hope I get to back sometime soon.  I'd like to see more of the island.  I'm going to post one more post to talk about some of my observations and to post some pictures. Thank you for reading my blog.  And thank you to Joe Sandillo and Almaz Journeys for the fantastic trip.

Havana, Day 2, Monday, Nov. 12

I’m waiting for my flight back to Atlanta from the Havana airport. It is late which I was warned would probably happen. So I decided to use the time to blog some more even thought I can’t post this until I am back in Atlanta and have internet again. In fact, the internet at our hotel has been very unreliable and usually kicked one off after about 10 minutes. Other than not being able to blog, however, it has been kind of nice to be cut off from the news and goings on in the US. So over the next week or so I will update the blog and post some pictures on Facebook.

Sunday night we had dinner at another Paladar, this one inside an old factory that has been converted into a space for artists, la Fabrica de Arte Cubana or FAC. The FAC also has space for music and several bars so it is a popular place to go at night. When we arrived, there was already a long line of people waiting to get in; because, we were eating there, we were able to skip the line. The restaurant was outside on top of the building. We were seated at the same time as two other large groups so it was a bit chaotic. It was a beautiful evening with perfect weather and was nice to be outside. 

After dinner, we explored the art space. The FAC is three levels and most of the art is on the top two levels. There is music on the ground level. I was impressed at the outpouring of creativity that I saw. All kinds of art and almost none of it was political. Apparently, the art rotates and when we were there, they seemed to be featuring an artist who liked to paint and photograph naked middle aged women. Lots of them. But there was other art as well, including a painting of what was supposed to look like a formal portrait of Batista’s wife in the royal palace, however she was completely naked. It was displayed like it was an official portrait labeled, “the First Lady of Cuba, madame Batista” or something like that. After viewing the art we told our guide Yusi that we didn’t really care about hearing the music, meaning that we were ready to go and didn't need to see the art downstairs. She didn’t quite understand the hint and took us for a lap downstairs where a loud heavy metal band was playing. Most of the folks on the tour are retirees in their 70s. Several of them held their ears as we walked around. When we finally got out to the van, we all had a good laugh about it.

Monday, we spent the morning learning first about the Mafia and then about Hemingway. For this part of the tour, Julie was our guide. She is a former French teacher who also studied history, but left teaching to work in tourism, because it pays much more. In a traditional job, the average Cuban makes about $50 a month which is not enough to survive on even thought they are guaranteed a small amount of subsidized food every month, but that is not enough either. So almost all Cubans have some other thing that they do on the side, such as selling electronics from the states or working as drivers part time. In addition, many professionals who speak English leave their professions altogether and work in tourism, particularly as guides. There is no limit how much they can earn and most share that with their families.

Julie first took us to the Riviera hotel which is just across the street from ours and told us about the Mafia in Cuba in the 1950s and the casinos they built without having to worry about legalities; they only had to give Batista, the dictator at the time, 10% of all earnings. Julie also told us that in the 50s, there were 100,000 prostitutes in Havana which had a population at the time of 2 million. And also at the time, most of the country was very poor and illiterate. We went inside the Riviera for a few minutes and took pictures in the lobby which has giant windows overlooking the Caribbean. The furnishings are all mid century modern originals and we felt like we had gone back in time. 

We then went on the National Hotel which is an old hotel up on a hill overlooking the city. It is where the meeting of all the bosses from the American mafia met in 1946. The meeting was hosted by Meyer Lansky and Lucky Luciano and the bosses discussed how they would split up their gambling enterprise in Havana. The meeting is depicted in The Godfather Part II. At the national, Julie also told us about the Cuban revolution and the closing of all the casinos. I was surprised at how candid she was about the revolution. She emphasized that Batista was a brutal and despised dictator and that Castro, Che, Cienfuegos, and others had wide spread support in their efforts and that only after the Bay of Pigs, did Castro declare that he was a socialist. Despite its accomplishments, such as universal housing, education, healthcare, and literacy, she also admitted that the revolution was bad for many and that many had left at different times and that many were still leaving in search of a better life. Half of her classmates had left the island, not for political reasons, but economic. She emphasized how much she and her generation wanted things to improve but that it was hard to be patient and wait for the old guard to relinquish power to the younger generation. At the same time, no one wants another revolution or violence. I said I couldn’t believe how open she was being and she explained that since the starvation period of the 1990s, the government had been encouraging more openness, hence not only her honesty, but also the art and music that has become more creative, things that would not have existed 30 years ago. I’ll post a separate entry later with more political commentary and observations.

After the visit to the National Hotel, our tour turned to Hemingway. I was most excited about this part of the trip since my favorite book is the Old Man and The Sea, the book that caused Hemingway to win the Nobel Prize in literature. We visited the house that he owned, where he wrote the Old Man and the Sea and where he lived off and on for many years. Hemingway’s will left the house to the people of Cuba upon his death and so it is now owned by the Cuban state. The house is on a hill on the outskirts of Havana and overlooks the whole city. Supposedly, his third (?) wife bought the house as a way of getting Hemingway out of the city and away from the bars. You cannot go in the house, but you can walk around it and look in the windows and doors which are open. People working inside can take pictures for you if you like and I paid one 5 CUC (=$5) to take some for me, including the kitchen which you can’t see. The house is small enough that walking around it and peering inside ensured you saw just about everything. We also saw the pool and his fishing boat, Pilar, which he normally left docked in the village of Cojimar. I visited Cojimar this morning before leaving for the airport and will write more on that later. Julie was with us the whole time we were at the house and told us a lot of the history of Hemingway in Cuba and how much he is admired by the Cuban people.

After a couple of hours on the grounds, we said goodbye to Julie and headed for a farm about 40 km west of Havana where we enjoyed a farm to table lunch and were shown around the grounds by the owner Alfredo, a Peruvian, who along with his Nicaraguan wife Annabelle, had moved from Paris (!) to Cuba in search of something different. They wanted to be in Latin America, where they were from, and chose Cuba because there is virtually no crime. They have an Usufruct on the land which is a Civil Law (Napoleonic code) form of ownership that I don’t really understand, but the folks on our tour from Louisiana were able to explain in to us. It is a use right for a period of years or for life (similar to a Life Estate in common law jurisdictions like England and all of the U.S. except Louisiana) and it seems to be the most common kind of land ownership in Cuba. In Cuba it is also inheritable, but I’m not sure if that’s typical in other civil law jurisdictions or not. They have the land for 20 years and that can be renewed. If they use it for any purpose other than farming, it will revert to the state. Anyway, we had a lovely time eating great fresh food under an Avocado tree and relaxing in the shade. After lunch, Alfredo showed us around his farm and talked about the bartering and trading economy that exists in much of the Cuban countryside between farmers. He also showed us his beehive of stingless bees and gave us each the chance to slurp honey out of the hive with a straw. I looked it up on Wikipedia later (when I had internet) and stingless bees are native to the tropics, especially in Central and South America. Their honey combs are formed in a spiral and they store honey in pods on top. It was out of these that we slurped the honey. It was good, but not as viscous as I think of honey. Apparently they are used more for pollinating than for honey production.

Once back in Havana and freshened up, we ate dinner at the oldest Paladar in Havana, the Guarida, which was featured in the 1993 Cuban movie, Strawberries and Chocolate, which I will have to see again. The Paladar is on the third floor of an old mansion in the Centro neighborhood of Havana, that is otherwise divided up into apartments. I had Caribbean Lobster which I had wanted to try. It was good, but had more of a steak texture than Main Lobster. After dinner, we went to a club in our hotel that featured a Cuban style band with a singer who had been part of the Buena Vista Social Club. While I sipped my Cuba Libre (rum and coke; yes, I’ve discovered that I like rum), I was pulled to the stage by one of several young female dancers who had pulled others up to dance Salsa. I’m not sure what I was doing but she basically lead me and others on our tour were there as well. But the song seemed to go on and on, and when I tried to leave, she pulled me back up, much to the delight to the others in our group. I finally was able to escape and my knees were grateful. It was a nice way to end a wonderful day.

I think I’ll stop for now. I will post a few more entries over the next week when I have time.  Hasta luego.