May Day

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Yesterday we were told that everything would be closed tomorrow, so I went to the grocery store to buy some essentials. Therefore, I would like to begin this blog with a description of what a grocery store in Cuba looks like.

The market next to our house is inside a "mall." The "mall" has a few clothing stores, a dish store, a furniture store, a perfume/cosmetics store, and a grocery, among other things (like a fake flower store?). Somehow, there's always Michael Bolton songs playing inside and it makes me laugh. There are almost always lines outside of the stores on the weekends, because these shops are small and crowded. People like to sell puppies outside of the "mall."

The store is just groceries, alcohol and soap. I bought some particularly pungent clothes soap there that has so far kept me very clean. There is no fresh food in the grocery store – to get fruits and vegetables, you have to go to an outdoor market. Milk is not refrigerated, because it is either powdered or boxed. There is generally only one brand of everything, and sometimes it even comes from the US. My peanut butter is from Illinois. We found some pretty decent yogurt that tastes like tropical scented lotion. There is pasta, a few canned veggies and fruits, and lots of canned meat like tuna, Spam, ham, and my favorite, canned hot dogs.

There is no beef in Cuba.

Standing in line at the grocery store with my few carefully selected items (peanut butter, crackers, pancake mix and canned peaches), I noticed something peculiar. Not just that people were actually buying the canned hot dogs, but they were buying bottles of beer just by the bottle, not by the pack. This gesture of having only a few beers in a hand basket seems to sum up a bit of Cuban life: get what you can, but only in moderation, because there isn't enough to go around.

But May Day. It's like the 4th of July, except so different. Huge Cuban flags are hung everywhere, along with signs like "Viva el Primer de Mayo!" At 6:00 AM, all of Havana is awake, walking to the Plaza de la RevoluciÛn. It's pretty contained and solemn. At about 6:40, some friends and I trudged through the streets (we live about…20 – 30 blocks from the plaza), watching everyone line up to desfila. At first I was curious as to why there were so many school aged Cubans marching, but then realized that it's a long, hot walk, and their elders probably wouldn't fare well.

We waited in the mob (cnn.com says 200,000 people) as the sun came up and the street began to get hot. Some of us fell asleep standing up. There is always a lot of waiting in Havana. My metaphor for this event is "Nazi Disneyland". Allow me to explain:

Cuba is a militarized dictatorship. It is socialist, and trying as hard as it can, but it is not without its disarming moments. The streets were lined with guards and police, stoic and silent (which isn't always the case, because the cops are as likely to whistle at girls as regular citizens). Giant speakers were set up for at least a mile, playing patriotic anthems and spouting "Viva Fidel! Viva La Revolucion!" every few minutes, in which everyone around would pump fists and shout "VIVA!" Disneyland, because of the music playing everywhere you go, and because you were trapped in this theme park of a parade. Nazi, only because of the regimentation. This event was heavily publicized, and it almost felt like a shame on you to not attend. And because of the veterans in their uniforms, and the shouting, and the marching. You walk into the plaza, see Raul waving from the MartÌ monument (we tried to tell which one he was, but he was high up and surrounded by similar people), and then move along.

There is shouting and music and signs and political assertion, but there was something funny about it. There was something about the way Fidel is still revered, about the way the government is referred to as "Fidelismo." My personal opinion, and I hope I don't get dinged by any governments for saying this, is that Fidel is dead. But the longer he "lives" the longer the United States will stay away, and Cuba will have enough time to sort out its woes. The post-revolution Cuba is nothing without Fidel Castro. I would almost be willing to say that Cubans are not Cubans even now – they are Fidelists. Cuba does not exist if the man is not alive. I don't think he will be martyred like Che Guevara and Jose MartÌ – he will be controversial. I think there was a tone to this May Day – because this is the second year in which Fidel has not attended – of extreme apprehension.

How many more marches will be held in honor of the Cuban Revolution?

I've been meaning to address this philosophically for some time. Cuba feels different than everyone describes. It feels like everyone around you is holding their breath, because the island is spinning around in the air and no one knows how it's going to land. Devilish tourists are hanging around, waiting for the government to dissolve so they can buy and develop land into resorts. (This is true, we've met some). Soon, Cubans will once again live the Bautista-esque days of frivolous tourism and souvenirs. Habaneros will be out of their homes, because all of Havana will be bought up by developers. Will it be better this way? No one knows.

Is it better if children aren't playing in abandoned lots full of trash? Is it better if the houses stop disintegrating into the sea? Is it better if people can buy new shoes and fresh fruits and have the internet in their homes and have cars that won't break down?

Will it be better when Cuba turns back into a plantation, when the U.S. brings automobile dealerships back in, and when the Cubans are forced back into the slums or Havana while tourists move into their homes? Will it be better when Cubans are puppeted by their bastard protector to the North?

If I come back to Cuba in 5 years, 10 years, it will not look or feel like this. But maybe there will be more smiles, and more parades.

Cubans also don't have balloons. Maybe the end of the Revolution would bring balloons.

Love always,
Caitlin