boxing frustrations

In the Cuban spirit, I have decided to be honest.

And honestly, Cuba and I were not friends last week.

In fact, Cuba and I were so not friends that I seriously wanted to pack Cuba up in a box, put that box in another box, mail that box to myself, and smash it with a hammer. (insert evil Yzma laugh from the Emperor’s New Groove monologue).

In all seriousness, if I studied abroad in Santiago de Cuba, I would hate this place. Even if I vacationed in Santiago de Cuba (which I did…in a way), I would hate this damn archipelago.

My traveling posse and I met some Europeans from France and the Czech Republic and the French man said, and I quote,

“I’d never ever [louder] EVER thought I’d say this but, [insert long pause and clearing of throat], America is right. This country is [excuse his French] shit.”

That got me thinking…Ok, Cuba:

Yes, your medical care is great.
Yes, everyone gets to go to school.

But some tourists hate you and will not come back. Why is that?

Maybe it’s because most everyone else in the world is punctual and if there is one thing Cubans have, it’s plenty of time. A scheduled 5 hour trip from Santiago de Cuba to Baracoa (worth going to) took 7 ½ hours because the driver ran errands up the mountain…you know, getting tomatoes here, water there, a couple cigarette breaks…and did not care tourists (who paid in CuC) had waterfalls waiting to be jumped in.

Or maybe it’s because you can’t possibly escape the fact that this is a third world country wherever you go. Tons of jiniteros and jiniteras (hustlers and hustler-itas) approach you as soon as you get off your 25 hour train ride and ask, “where joo from?” or “I jove you!” or “casas conmigo?” (will you marry me?).

Maybe I’ve become too accustomed to life in Havana and don’t notice third world aspects like Che Gueverra’s face everywhere and Fidel’s quotes about the “solution” being “more revolution,” but Santiago was like a different planet. The living conditions were x infinity times filthier, the people were more desperate (one guy took my hat OFF MY HEAD) and the roads might as well have been gravel. I couldn’t go anywhere without seeing Camillo Cienfuegos’ smile and my dead goat/dead pig tallies were out the window.

The Triumph of the Revolution supposedly helped the Eastern half of the island out the most, but (because I am a journalist) for the record, I did not speak to anyone that felt triumph in anything except their dreams.

I am here to say you cannot possibly visit Cuba as a tourist, Santiago or Havana, without some psychological exhaustion.

My week of 25 hour trains rides and 20 hour bus rides was to be expected, but I have less than a month left and I don´t have time like Cubans. Excuse me driver if your government gives you no incintive to drive me ¨muy rapido¨to one of the most beautiful places in the world, but I am not going to continue making excuses for you because you don´t own a car and this bus is your only ticket to buying groceries without hiking them home.

As cold hearted as that may sound, I have waterfalls to jump off of... thank you very much.

I have come to adore this place and I feel my percentage of frustration is directly in proportion to the many things I’m emotionally invested in and care about.

In that light, this week is our last week with our carnets (proof of residence to pay the cheaper Moneda Nacional prices) so I anticipate a great amount of time at Salsa matinees and El Museo de Bellas Artes (one of my fav. places in Havana).

photos
1. adventure girls get tired too
2. el cobre
3. maceo monument
4. place near greatest waterfall
5. GUANTANEMO
(could not get near American base)