A Sunday Stroll

Today was the first day I felt up to going outside and doing something, so we ended up heading over to Havana Vieja for a bit.

Here are some photos from the day:

Danny, Chelsea, Honorio, Me, and Tara
proof that Sunday is the universal laundry day :)

Messiah Doctors, Flying Nurses, and Killin' Amoebas

Listening to Elliott Smith, watching the room slowly cleanse itself in warm, orange light, darkening elegantly into a subtle rose wash.

I'm just a waxing-emo-poetic. (Have I mentioned that I didn't pack my skinny jeans?) I'll just blame it on the lack of food today. Why lacking food? Oh, let me tell you.

Early this morning I was awakened by my delightful digestive system, which is far from unusual as of late. This morning, however, the enthusiasm of said system was notably increased, and it was at this moment that I promised myself that I would visit the friendly commie hospital today.

Being such a wonderful, steadfast person, I did not break this promise to myself. The adventure known as Clínica Centra Cira García was about to begin.

Immediately upon walking in the entrance, I felt like the sliding doors which had allowed our arrival acted secondly as a time machine. The nurses all had skirts on, tights, white shoes, and.. most notably... WHITE FUNNY HATS. I was reminded of Mom's nursing school picture. Okay, I can't remember if there actually was such a picture, but that is how I imagine such a photograph to look.

Quickly recovering from the shock of the hats (and chuckling when Chelsea turned to me and whispered, "are those hats what your mom wears at work?") we went up to the registration desk. The girl was very much the Cuban version of Mariah... perfectly coifed hair, meticulously accessorized outfit, very professional. Not kidding, I thought about how you'd fit right in, Ry (except for the whole flaming-ginger thing, of course). Anyway, some nurse asked me about my complaints, and then we sat down in the waiting room. (The waiting room had a ginormous cloudy fish tank with two goldfish that were the size of cats.) A few minutes later a man came up to me, handed me a plastic container with a top on it, and told me to go to the bathroom and produce a present. I found this kind notably lacking in subtly, but that's okay. I went to the bathroom (which had not only toilet seats, but TOILET PAPER, AAAND SOAP!) but sadly couldn't live up to his expectations.

After such a disappointing performance, I got called in to talk to Dr. Jesús González. He was a wonderful old man. His office was a strange combination: his desk with paperwork and chairs, the examination table right behind, a sink, and all other amenities. "Stick a toilet in here, and you'd never have to leave," Chelsea said. He examined me, saw nothing wrong, sent me off to have my blood drawn, then said that he'd give me some time to chill in the hospital area with the hopes of delivering. So then Chelsea, Honorio and I went to the hospital cafetería where I had two ice creams and café con leche in hopes of agitating my digestive system enough for it to cooperate. No luck. Instead all I got was a wicked stomachache. C'est la vie. We returned to the ER waiting room again, where the same man who had handed me the container originally looked very excited to see me, then immediately walked away. A few minutes later, Jesús came out to call me back into the office. Despite my incompetence, he gave me some meds for amoebas, some electrolyte packets to put in some water (no gatorade here!), and a scrip for peptobismol. (No joke, that's what he called it - with a thick Cuban accent, of course. That name's not on the bottle, but that really made me laugh that he called it that.) So yes, we went to the farmacía to get the meds, looked around to see what else they were selling, got a little depressed that Listerine cost around $8, then ended up getting handed the bill for 35 CUC for my loot.

Half hour later, the insurance situation got figured out. Turns out they just automatically assumed that I was uninsured, and treated me as such. Poor Jesús had to go through and fill out a whole new set of papers once I was counted as insured.

In conclusion, I ended up paying nothing but the cab fare both ways (5 CUC total which isn't so bad considering the clinic's out in Míramar). I have two rounds of amoeba killers (parasites, of course, but I like how he used the word amoeba) to take, some other pills that have some other purpose that I need to figure out before taking, and some pink shiny peptobismol to boot. Oh, and some coco flavored electrolyte packets. Yess.

This was a very exciting Friday, as I'm sure you'll agree. Today proved to be yet another reminder of how difficult my name is for Cuban people to pronounce. Everyone gets it the first time, repeating after me, sounding it out, but then immediately they forget it. I think it's because they can't visualize how to spell it. I've taken to saying "MEH-gahn" when I think to do so, but sometimes it's hard to remember to say my name incorrectly when someone asks me. After twenty years of pronouncing my name the same way, it's kind of hard to change now.

Anyway. It's now dark in the room, and I have yet to turn a light on. Dinner's in a half hour!

Love you and miss you all!

A conversation this morning before leaving for class...

Chelsea: Why do you have so much aspirin?
Tara: Because Profe said that I should bring aspirin because people need it here! But what am I gonna do, shake some into their hands? So far since I've been here the only thing I've been asked for is a F*&KIN' CARAMELO and I don't have any of those! "Oh here, little boy, I don't have any candy, but I have DRUGS!"
Chelsea: Hm. Well, why do you have so many band-aids?
Tara: I have SIX HUNDRED AND TWO! That was another thing he said that they don't have a lot of here. So I have SIX HUNDRED AND TWO band-aids... y'know, just to out-do the Orishas by one.

I can now say that I know why people say this country requires a sense of humor. There are so many bizarre things about it, I think you'd go crazy if you didn't laugh.

Rumba, Egg Cars, and Havana Parks

I have a lot more pictures from yesterday, so I figured I'd upload a few more.

Pirates, Guayaba, and Esperanza

Today Chelsea, Danny, Honorio, Steph, Tara, and I went to the Callejón de Hamil to the see the Rumba dancing that takes place each Sunday afternoon. Callejón de Hamil is an alley covered with various paintings and sculptures by a man named Salvador. We had gone to see this the day before, and that was when we were told about the Rumba dancing.

Soon after getting there, a chipper Cuban lad approached me, and, as all Cubans do, began to chat. Notable moments of the conversation included how surprised he was that we learn Spanish in school, because no Cuban schools offer education in English. He claimed that no Cubans knew English, which isn't entirely correct, but that's okay. He certainly knew no English at all. We also were talking about our governments, how America has so much to improve upon with Obama entering office, and how the young people have such high hopes for a lot of change in the future. A lot of Cubans are hoping for changes, too, both in American policies, and the policies of their own government. "There are a lot of issues on the pueblo level," he was saying, "Pero tenemos esperanza." That's all we can have, right?

We decided that the presidents of the United States and Cuba are like little boys fighting with each other, and it's everyone else who deals with the consequences. He was really surprised hearing that people in America are fearful of Communism. "But that's only the government," he said. "That doesn't affect relationships between people."

This deep and thought-provoking conversation was halted when we decided to hit up the closest cafetería for some amazing, amazing pizza de cebolla, leaving my nameless Cuban friend in the crowd. (Need I mention that said pizza was only 10 pesos nacionales, which roughly translates to 5 cents?)

After getting pizza, we returned to rumba-ville. Most notably, I made a friend named Saule. Saule first captured my attention because of his pirate-like appearance. He looked almost exactly like Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean, only without the make-up and gold teeth. He even had the strange, drunken, exaggerated movements like Depp did. He also had on a wool sweater (in direct sun), a flannel shirt, and a stethoscope which was taped to a music player that he used as headphones in order to listen to music. Genius. He also was passing around a stick of deodorant with his friends, and they all applied some in turn. Later, he motioned me over to him, and we began to chat. He knew English which was an added bonus.
The conversation with Saule went as follows:

Saule: What's your name?
Me: Megan.
S: Meh-gahn?
M: Sí.
S: Would you like to meet my friend Uribe?
M: Sure.
S: This is Uribe. He's from Santiago.
M: Hi.
S: Uribe's from Santiago, so they say hello in a different way. They kiss to say hello. [Makes some sort of gesture kissing his wrist]
M: Oh, interesting.
S: Say hi to Uribe.
M: Hi.
S: No, say hi to Uribe the Santiago way. Kiss him.
M: Uhhh.
S: You don't want to meet my friend? We're friends, and I'm introducing you to my friend.
M: I don't even know your name.
S: My name's Saule.
M: SAH-ooh-lay?
S: Sí, Saule. I'm a crazy boy.
M: Hm.
S: I'm a boy prostitute! [Gestures toward his pants region, indicating location of said prostitution]
M: Hmm.
S: What are you doing in Cuba?
M: Studying.
S: What are you studying?
M: Culture, history, film.
S: Film?
M: Yep, film.
S: I want to be in your film! I can be the star of your first film!
[I then realize that he thinks I'm studying to make films, not studying films that are already made]
M: Oh yeah?
S: YES. But I will only star in your film if I play a stripper! [Begins to do an odd dance, presumably demonstrating his skills for such a part]
M: [Laughing at this point] Oh yeah?
S: Yes! We are friends now, right?
M: Absolutely. [I start to go with everyone leaving]
S: We are friends!
[Exeunt]

I only share this conversation because it is a prime example of the strange, fantastic craziness that is Cuba. Only in this country would you see Jack Sparrow dancing rumba with a stethoscope in his pocket, and end up chatting with him, only to find out that he's a "boy prostitute." This place is fantastic. (And, of course, I will add that not once did I feel unsafe whilst talking to him. My friends were all within a couple feet of me, and Saule was not in any way dangerous.)

We then went in search of an amazing bakery that Steph had seen a couple days before, and I gorged on some pasteles de guayaba that is like the food of the gods. Then we walked around the Capitolio, which is beautiful.

Here are some pictures of various parts of the day:

Wind, Gusanos, and Palestine

The wind is so strong here all the windows shake. It sounds like a constant barrage against every room in the apartment. Upstairs the slat windows squeak. Every gust of wind screams, too.

But it's still warmer than home, so I'm certainly not complaining.

Yesterday we went to a pro-Palestinian rally at la Universidad de la Habana. I guess technically it was called a protest, but when it's a state-funded gathering it doesn't seem to be so rebellious. Oddly enough, the same afternoon that this pro-Palestinian rally was going on, a pro-Israeli rally was going on in Boston. After hearing Cuba's side on things, their support of Palestine makes sense. After all, the Israelis are killing a heck of a lot more people than the Palestinians are (or so they say).

It's very loud in here. There are several conversations at elevated volumes surrounding me, and the wind is screaming its own opinions.

I'm reading Catch-22 right now and it's lovely.

I'm planning a blog entry on the Cubans' views on the American gusanos. As an American, I had never thought about the opinions of Cubans regarding those who have fled the country to the states, and vice-versa.

Here are some photos from the rally:

Water & Sunshine: El Malecón

Considering our location, I feel the need to make an entry dedicated to the lovely malecón. The malecón is the seawall that is along the water, and is a common hangout for just about everyone. I've taken some pictures of it and on it, so I'll stick them on here.

from a cab:
walking to havana vieja:
courtney & steph:
sonya:

some bird that i don't know the name of: