1. Soroa
A few of us decided to get gutsy, and we rented a car for a day in order to have a roadtrip to Soroa in the western province of Pinar del Rio. Guidebooks made mention of waterfall swimmin', and that's one thing I just can't turn down.
The car situation was interesting. Four to the backseat meant for close quarters, but we managed. A trip that should take approximately 45 minutes ended up taking four hours because of the lack of signs around the city. It took two hours to finally get on the highway leading out of Havana.
Finally reaching our destination, the swimming was great fun, and it was really neat to see another part of the country. All in all, it was a successful roadtrip.
and a photo taken by tara of chelsea, steph, and me:
2. Beach day.
On Sunday the gang decided to head out to the beach for the afternoon, as all of us were distracted by the all-too-lovely sunshine outside. After breakfast set out in search of a cab.
That was when we ran into a man driving a "cab," a coche particular (privately owned car) which he uses to make extra money on the side. True to the communist mentality, such side enterprises are illegal in Cuba. All official (and legal) taxis in Cuba are monitored by the government (cab drivers must keep a log of all of their clients and trips and profits) and all of the money is turned over. Anyway, we all jumped in (two in the front seat, four in the back) and took off for the beach.
The driver, Emilio, chatted with us a bit, and then informed Emma (who was sitting next to me in the front seat) that when we went by check points she should duck down. Oh dear.
So the first check point went fine, but the second wasn't so lucky, as Emma thought that Emilio told her she could sit up again, but it was too early, and immediately the police pulled us over. Emilio got out, got fined, and then we were on the road again. Great.
Then as we were cruisin' down the highway, a truck with several men in the back began to yell at us to pull over. This is rather common in Cuba, as there's always cars falling apart on the road, and everyone's looking out for each other. So, we pulled over to find that the screws had fallen off of the back right tire. Emilio got out the jack, and as soon as the car was raised a bit off the ground the tire fell off without hesitation. After some switching around of the screws from the other tires (in true socialist fashion) we got back in the car, this time with one in the front seat, and five of us in the back. For whatever reason, this was better weight distribution for the tires. Ookay.
A couple photos courtesy of Danny. The first is of us standing on the side of the road as Emilio fixed the tire. The second is of us all in the backseat (and I look a little... special).
Feeling a tad bit anxious but trying to play it cool, we were back on the highway again. Approximately five minutes after we were up to normal speed, we passed another police check point, at which time we were pulled over again, and Emilio was fined again. Great.
So then we finally made it to the beach (all safe and unharmed) and Emilio still made a large profit from driving us there despite the fines because they are in moneda nacional, so they barely detract from our payment in CUC. We were saying after how in the US if that sort of thing happened, we'd want to get the ride for free.. but in Cuba, we almost feel the need to pay the driver extra just for going through all of that for us.
3. The Flood of '09
Monday morning we were all walking to school down tercera, admiring the water which had reached our street thanks to the overactive malecón. The sidewalks were dry, so we were happily traipsing down them, remarking on the Venice-esque dynamics of our neighborhood.
After a block, however, we reached the corner of tercera and B street to see a knee-high river running down the street that we needed to cross. The current was formidable, and we were slightly unmotivated, so we then turned around to head home. This was when we realized that the water had raised onto the sidewalk, and we had no choice but to wade through the water. Taking off my sneakers and socks and rolling up my jeans, I tried to think of other things besides the floating dog poop that accompanied us on our stroll.So we made it back to the building, then sat around outside for a while, playing in the water (which was infinitely cleaner when closer to the malecón) until the Casa bus came to cart us to school. It was fun while it lasted.
Geovani carrying a woman from our building across the street:
Horse and carriage:
A man walking his dog and drinking a beer at 10 am:
Oh, Cuba.
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