Let us begin.
The US Interest Section is a large building in the middle of the strip along the malecón. Heavy security surrounds the building, and one is not allowed to walk on that side of the street. To stroll down the other side of the street usually grants you an oh-so-sneaky security man following you. They don't bother you, though, so it's really not a big deal. It's just very, very odd.
The US embassy was built in 1953. Standing tall along the malecón, its prime location is quite unlike the other embassies seen dispersed throughout Vedado and Miramar, mostly occupying old mansions left abandoned by their owners during the revolution. Why does the US have this building? It was built before the revolution. It was built during the time that the Americans had their puppet dictator in power (Batista) and Cuba was their playground.
After abandoning the building for a time, the US embassy is now known as the US Interest Section, technically a part of the Swiss Embassy. (The Cuban Interest Section in America is the same way, being a part of the Swiss'.) The security surrounding the building is from the Cuban SEPSA crew (as, I believe, all embassy securities are) and some of the floors of the building are occupied by Cuban officials.
Why do I tell you all this? Well, the gang got to visit. It took some planning on Dr. B's part, but it was a go.
Passports in hand, we were headed to America.
The security was rather excessive, but soon we were all in the building, greeted by American flags, granite floors, and a dark booth with someone inside, a Semper Fi bumper sticker on the glass.
We were brought into a conference room and introduced to a couple fine folks who work there, and were allowed to ask some questions. We learned a bit.
1. The staff of the US Interest Section influences US policy on Cuban/American relations. They are not allowed to talk to the Cuban government, however. All info they receive is through other people who have talked to them (reporters, other embassies, etc.). Scary. That means that everything they know about Cubans they can mold into their own stereotypes. Very Scary.
2. We were told to leave fashion magazines behind with us when we leave Cuba in order to show them the outside world. This was another scary indication that these people know absolutely nothing about Cubans. They're not dumb. A fashion magazine is nothing but an ode to consumerism, and does nothing more than say, "Hey, look at all these things that you don't need and never will have because you don't need them."
3. The embargo only "impacts some shipping" and "only means that a country can't trade with Cuba and the US on the same trip." Direct quotes there. Yes, he said that the Helms-Burton Bill only impacts SOME shipping. And if you were a country, would you choose to trade with the tiny island of Cuba, or the largest consumer nation in the world?
4. The US claims to be "fairly generous on the humanitarian side," though gives "no direct assistance to the government." If the American government were such humanitarians, why wouldn't they lift the embargo and let these people get the medicine and food that they need?
5. During the Special Period (the time after the Soviet Union fell and the Cubans had nothing... they were living on practically cole slaw for a few years) the US decided to tighten the embargo in order to try to kill off the Castro regime. Yes, the Americans starved the Cuban people (even more than they usually have over the past fifty years) when they knew that they had barely any food supply. Oh, such humanitarians they are.
Slightly shell-shocked from all this, we decided to drown our sorrows in french fries and rather-edible pizza at Tal Vez.
Then we met up with Casa worker Felix (the cat) and had a tour of the University of Havana. That was fun.
Then Steph and I decided to explore the area on our own, and we saw a fantastic student group that required all of them to wear these lime green trucker hats. We wanted these trucker hats. We could not have these trucker hats. We were sad.
About to leave the campus, we talked to a skinny little man who is a professor of English at the university; he heard us speaking in English and ran over. He asked us what a lug-nut was, saying that the word occurred several times in a novel he was reading, and he could not find a definition for it anywhere. After giving him a vague explanation, he thanked us, saying that previously he was almost positive that it was an article of clothing.
Still grieving the trucker hat incident, Steph and I found ourselves back at Tal Vez for milkshakes (well, I got a milkshake and she got a lima limón). After receiving our beverages, two young men walked in and sat down at a nearby table. Obviously tourists from the attached hotel, they Both got cokes, and one of them slumped down on the table. This same one walked to the bathroom, reaching to remove his t-shirt even before getting to the door.
Fast forward an hour, and Steph and I had enjoyed a spectacle of five security officers, six or so restaurant workers, a maid, and a nurse running in and out of the bathroom in varied states of frenzy, amusement, and disgust. At one point, one of the waiters came out to the bar to get a glass of water to bring to the crime scene. He soon returned from the bathroom, shaking his head, and got out a bottle of water from the fridge. Apparently Mr. No-Shirt doesn't like his water non-bottled. Then the waiter returned AGAIN from the bathroom with the bottle, this time switching it with another one which was not in the fridge, and therefore was not cold. Mr. No-Shirt's tummy apparently could not handle cold water.
After around an hour, the restaurant workers called an ambulance. The EMTs strolled into the bathroom with a stretcher, and ten minutes later came back with the young man laying there, his shirt removed (obviously), his cargo shorts on, but, most peculiarly, no shoes or socks on. Our waitress started chatting with the table next to us, and then when she brought us the check, I asked her if we could inquire. "Of course!" she said with a laugh. All of the restaurant workers knew that we were watching the shenanigans, and a couple of them laughed with us about it. She told us that he was feeling a little tired, and wasn't feeling well ("because of too much sugar," she said, making that sound like it was his explanation, "or too much rum," she said, this seeming to be the explanation the rest of the crew had reached).
We left her a 30% tip on the table, and left Tal Vez, the whole restaurant crew at the bar waving good bye to us and laughing. Just as we were about to cross the street, the ambulance finally sped away.
TO BE CONTINUED.
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