Mostly About Music

I can't begin to explain to the rest of the world how good it feels to be out of bed. I've had a week-long battle with a stomach bug which it seems I have beat into submission by eating a lot of…bread, bananas and rice – which are fortunately very plentiful here.

I have a few stories to tell:

Sunday, pre-sickness, a large group of us decided to go to a party hosted by a student at the University of Havana, but ended up being very perplexed because we couldn't find the party, despite the hoards of young adults wandering the streets that night. We ended up in my favorite park (which I believe is actually called the Plaza of the Fountains, about 4 blocks from our house), because we heard music being played. It turned out there was a random talented group of musicians playing in the park, a couple of guitars, a violin, and someone doing percussion on a violin case. Absolutely beautiful, We sat in the grass listening for about an hour. It was mostly drunken university men there, so it became a bit…stifling…because Cuban men really enjoy staring. I spoke with the violinist, William, afterwards, but it was nearly futile because he was drunk and this makes communication a bit difficult. They're supposed to be playing somewhere tonight, and I may make an effort to go see!

Did you know you can buy mojito in a box in Cuba? Apparently you can. And daiquiri in a box? I have a problem drinking anything out of a juice box, so I stay clear. But the people at the park really seemed to like them.

Skip forward, past the early nights of sleep and days in bed listening to music and reading The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down.

Friday, we went to visit a Policlinico, which is like a neighborhood medical clinic of which there are over 400 in the city of Havana. Like any doctor's office, it was full of people and crying babies and elderly people waiting to be seen – not much different from a Kaiser office except that the aesthetic is completely different – paint chipping off the walls, broken chairs, etc. There was an ingenious sign in the stairwell that said "Las escaleras son un gimnasio. El elevador es una jaula," meaning that the stairs are a gym, and the elevator is a cage. This may be because the elevator doesn't work very well, but it's also smart to encourage exercise.

The most uncomfortable part of the visit was going to an examination room a few blocks away, to peek in at a pregnant woman's visit. Of course she had consented, but the doctor really liked to talk and we all grew uncomfortable in the very tiny and hot room – and I'm sure the pregnant woman had places to be other than surrounded by people. Interestingly, we learned that in the Cuban medical system, doctors work in teams of specialists, primary caregivers, and psychiatrists with patients, instead of separating all of the fields. And of course, everything is entirely free. I keep wondering how much more amazing their medical system would be if the United States would stop being such a bully, if the Cubans had access to anesthetics and aspirin and new equipment.
Curiously, there was a large Fidel photo in the clinic room, which reminded me of that Diane Sawyer special in North Korea. There were pictures of their president everywhere…and it seems like Fidel fills similar shoes here. Even though Che Guevara and Jose Marti are the country's poster boys, Fidel Castro still holds a huge omnipotence over Cuba.

Almost ironically, one of the girls in our group was suffering from severe dehydration and got really sick on our visit, so she got to stay and receive medical care there, also for free, and was driven back later. We are aware, however, that as students and Americans, we are subject to better treatment than almost anyone else in the country right now. A few days ago we were told that there are lists with all of the people we hang out with in Cuba on file in the central government at all times, because if anything happens to us, all the people we've been seen with will get dragged to jail. We already suspected we were being watched, because curiously, Facebook stopped working in our residence, but we didn't know it was actually true until now. Kind of 1984-esque, and kind of scary.

Friday night, we were shuttled to ELAM (The Latin American Medical School, which is FREE to those who are accepted for 6 years of comprehensive medical training and practice.) to see a "USA Culture Night". Security was really tight and we almost didn't get in, because not everyone had ID (even though we were guests). But inside, it was interesting to see how Americans can be portrayed to other people. They did spoofs on TRL, Jerry Springer, they did step dancing and hip hop dancing, etc. I made friends with a medical student from Mexico, who may want to hang out at some point, though he made the point that he's very busy pretty much all the time with school.

After that, we begged to stay out a bit longer (we were supposed to go back right after the show ended), so we got to go to the town of Baracoa and dance for a few hours. It's amazing the diversity of people I met that night – people from Botswana, Bolivia, Brazil, Jamaica, Mexico, etc. It was kind of overwhelming, but I made a couple more friends that may hang out later on.

Last night, we went to an Afro-Cuban concert at the Palacio de Bellas Artes, for about 50 cents per person. It was absolutely amazing, and there were so many people of all different ages there. It was outdoors in a huge courtyard, which obviously isn't a problem because it's so warm always. We then went to our favorite sangria hangout, which I will be taking my "friend" to when he comes because for lunch, they have the $6 lobster paella that may be the best thing I've had so far in Cuba. A group of Cubans were celebrating a birthday at the table next to us and we had some pretty funny interactions with them, safe to say we make friends wherever we go.

On the bus ride back, and you wouldn't believe how many people are on the public bus at midnight, we had yet another encounter with a group of young Cuban men (and a few women). They assumed we couldn't speak Spanish and therefore ensued in a slightly perverted conversation in completely audible and understandable Cuban. They talked amongst themselves about how to invite us out in English, finally coming up with "We would like to invite you to have a fun with us." My reply? "We speak Spanish, you know!" (In Spanish, of course) which got the whole bus roaring in laughter. If I had been feeling 100%, we probably would have gone to hang out with them, because they had excellent senses of humor, but so goes life! Another such encounter is bound to happen in the weeks ahead.

It keeps getting better here, and more comfortable, but one thing I miss more than my family, my dear friends and Kyle (yes, you get your own shout out!), is pepperoni pizza. I think I'll do a separate blog on food later, but just about every meal I eat I imagine is pepperoni pizza, with Parmesan cheese and hot pepper flakes. Pepperoni is a very foreign concept in Cuba, but boy, could I go for a slice right now!

Love always,
Comrade CaitlinWarning...video has NO sound