My family has been clamoring for a new blog and I admit that I have been neglecting my duties as a student traveler. But recently, life in Cuba has taken a new spin. Because we are leaving so soon, suddenly the city has become so exciting and homesickness is a word I can't believe I've ever felt.
Last week we went to visit Pinar del Rio, a city in the countryside where we visited a cooperative project that provides free after school arts for all children in the area. It's unbelievable that a place like this is free. Students learn to dance, sing, learn about health and the environment, and do beautiful art (none of which is for sale, by the way, because here the art of children is not for sale). The most amazing part of the day for me was seeing a group of girls, about 10 years old, who crochet the most BEAUTIFUL clothes for themselves and pretty much know how to make everything, including tablecloths, purses, hats and bottle covers. All of these things, they make for their family. One girl had made baby booties for her pregnant mother. All the materials used by the kids are provided by non-profit organizations and donated by students families. It's worth noting that Pinar del Rio is no better off financially than Havana (because socialism of course implies that it can't really happen).
But the countryside is beautiful (and much cooler than the city). One odd point of the day was when we stopped at a rest stop to use the bathroom. The rest stop felt like we had stopped in Cancun – it was obviously made for tourists and tourist buses. People were selling coconuts and fancy drinks and souvenirs. There happened to be a group of American tourists (with huge ugly name tags with USA printed on them, and their city of origin) at the rest stop with us, and I'm proud to say they didn't think we were tourists. One man from Carmel tried talking to us in poor Spanish when I pointed out in English that his name tag said, very large, where he was from.
On the way back from Pinar del Rio, our bus popped a tire. I've never been in a car with a popped tire before, that I can remember. So we stood on the side of the road next to a sugar cane field watching tractors and busses pass us. The bus was fine, but I actually enjoyed the experience. All of the boys on our program thought they knew how to change a tire, but they didn't end up being much help. Us girls weren't even allowed to help.
On Thursday we returned to Fresa y Chocolate, the Trova venue about 20 blocks from our house. Thursday was probably one of the hottest nights we've had here, and sitting inside a packed room was absolutely grueling (we started fanning ourselves with whatever scrap paper we had in our bags). But when my girlfriends stepped out to smoke (which stopped bothering me a few weeks ago. Smoking here is very common but not nearly as obnoxious as in Europe), I made some friends! Some guys were standing next to our table so I invited them to sit with me while my friends were outside, and they were happy to do so. It turns out that one of them reminds me a lot of my guy friends from home, so we've now hung out a couple times and have a terrific time! It's about time I made a good friend here. It's pretty accurate to say that my new guy friend is my Cuban kindred spirit.
I'm a bit nervous about completing my independent project, considering I was going to do a report on a day in a Cuban classroom. Apparently I have to go through a huge bureaucratic process to even get permission to be in a school. What I'm thinking about doing is comparing different internet views on Cuban children, then possibly using some children of Casa employees to do an art project for me, possibly to make a picture about what they want to be when they grow up, or what they like best about school. I'd really like to know the value of education to children here, and if they are happy. We'll see how this turns out.
I'm getting really sad about leaving Cuba, because whenever I will return to Cuba, it will not be the same.
And at the same time, Cuba will keep spinning. The friends we've made will keep living and we will be filed away as memories of strangers are, and we will be replaced by other students in the following years. The Trova concerts that we love so much will continue to play and create in our absence, the Malecon will continue to fill with young adults every night, and the busses will continue to fill and run full of hot and tired families throughout the day.
There is nowhere on earth like Cuba, and I have not been everywhere. The way the air smells (sometimes like trash, I'll admit), the way the sounds sound and the way the waves crash against the rock wall is irreplaceable. I am going to miss searching my brain for the right Spanish words in my conversations, and I'm going to miss conversing with my American friends in a laughable Spanglish mix. Sometimes I think in Spanish, and dream in Spanish. I love walking outside the door and meeting anyone new. I love taking cheap taxis, or walking for miles, eating rice and beans and buying cheap Cuban wine.
America is only 60 miles from Cuba, and yet these places are worlds apart. I only hope I don't remember this like a dream and more like a huge accelerating part of my life.
Love,
Caitlin
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