Crunk Puffs, Feet, and ¡¿Afrocuba?!

First I must begin by saying that I'm sitting on the balcony in the sunshine, and the temperature is absolutely perfect. I can't believe that it's January, and anything more than a tank-top feels like overdressing. My roommates are doing aerobics, and because I am a lazy waste of life, I am sitting out here doing something far less strenuous.

On an intellectual note, there have been really amusing t-shirts that I've seen when walking around the city. Some include:
1. A man was wearing a sleeveless, pink shirt with rhinestones that spelled out the word "Whistling" across his chest in cursive letters. Why? I do not know. Perhaps he's very passionate about his whistling skills, or I suppose it's possible that he's part of some whistling society, and this is his uniform.
2. A girl was wearing a red tank-top with the word "TOP" spelled out in rhinestones. I'm not sure if this was because she was the best, or that she needed labels for her articles of clothing.
3. A girl the other day was wearing a t-shirt that said in gigantic letters: "GIRLS WILL SAVE THE WORLD." That's the kind of optimism I like to see.
4. Yesterday at the zoo a little boy was wearing a t-shirt with a graphic on it that looked like the front of a cereal box. The name of the cereal was "CRUNK PUFFS." I got a picture of that one on the sly, though I'm pretty sure his grandfather saw me sneaking around. I can only assume from this t-shirt that the boy of about eight years old likes to get "crazy drunk" with his cereal.
5. One of the men working at Casa had on a t-shirt that said "TWINS" in very large letters across his chest. Maybe I should ask him where he got it so that I can appropriately show off my twins.

Tonight we're going to see a play about a Mexican poet (whose name I can't seem to remember at the moment) and Frida Kahlo. That should be fun.. or interesting, at the very least. I guess there's another play that we may be able to go see next week or something that's based on a Fassbinder film, so that should be really neat. I did a paper on the Fassbinder film Lola last semester, and loved analyzing it.

Last evening when we were walking home from the bus, we came across a peluquería that just opened. We asked them their prices, and apparently you can get a manicure and pedicure for eleven pesos nacionales. That comes out to fifty cents. Chino was telling us last night that clean feet are apparently a make-or-break thing when it comes to a girl's attractiveness, so it sounds like a pedicure needs to occur asap. At least with his generation, a girl can't be brought home to meet mom unless she keeps her feet clean (and doesn't wear sandals, which I find a little ridiculous). We also have a bidet in our bathroom which is both perplexing and hilarious, so I've been using that solely for cleaning my feet (even before this lesson from Chino) and it's quite convenient.

I also want to apologize for how hard it is to IM or skype with me, but the connection seems to be a little come-and-go. If I all of a sudden sign off on you, don't take it personally.. I probably just lost connection, and couldn't get back online. Maybe that sort of thing will get figured out soon, if not, I guess it's just a take-what-I-can-get situation.

As far as classes go, the one that's notably hilarious in its terribleness is ¿Afrocuba? which, first off, is spectacular in that the course's name is a question. Every time someone mentions Afrocuba, a confused expression accompanies. Sometimes an incredulous expression, or a face of solemn curiosity, or even the communication of a distressed moment of complete confusion - but always, Afrocuba must be confronted with caution. And, incredibly, the class lives up to its questionable name. The first day we had a professor named Juan Mesa who is exceptionally boring. The best part of the class is that it lasts three hours because we only have it twice a week, and it's only going to last about six weeks. He let us out an hour early, but at the time we believed that this was the worst two hours one could ever endure. We were wrong. The second class was taught by Jesús something or other, and his job was to introduce us to the works of the greatest Cuban anthropologists that have done work in the area of Afrocuba. What Jesús did was recite a powerpoint which was a long bibliography of the titles of every anthropologist who ever existed ever. That's all he did. The powerpoint had about 60 slides. HE was even included in the powerpoint. A picture of a young, dapper Jesús was seen on his biography page, followed by a list of a zillion things he's published. This class lasted for two and a half hours. At one point I got up to go to the bathroom even though I didn't have to go just because I couldn't take it anymore. Thus far, those hours were the most boring I've had in my entire life. Who knew the Messiah could be so dull? Not I.

I guess I'll wrap this up here. For some reason the internet isn't working at the moment, so I'll have to figure that out in order to get onto the blog website and put this on there.

pictures from the zoo, including our the little buddies we spent most of the time with:

Ships, Sunshine, and Antique Cars

I'm about to head out for the day, but figured I'd upload a few snapshots.




view from our balcony:

Fishnets, Hemmed Pants, and Cleavage

It might just be the English major in me coming out, but I feel a little odd writing about things chronologically. Part of me wants to pick some sort of thesis and run with it instead of giving just the plot. So, I will talk about clothing. And I will probably not write a thesis statement.

The women in Cuba are beautiful. They have the ability to wear the tightest, most fantastic clothing, and pull it off without thinking twice about it. In America it seems like only people with perfect bodies feel comfortable wearing revealing clothing.. you have to be stick thin to be attractive, and if you're not, you try to hide it with baggy clothes. Here, all of the women wear tight shirts, short skirts, and crazy jewelry. The women in uniforms have suit jackets, short skirts, and funky tights and heels. We were trying to figure out exactly what the difference is between our culture and theirs which allows for such freedom (besides the weather, because that can't be the only factor) and we were thinking that it may have something to do with the media. It doesn't seem like women are told here that they need to have flat stomachs and perfectly toned thighs. They just work what their mama gave 'em with confidence, and it's awesome.

I've noticed that a lot of men wear pants that are hemmed... jeans, khakis, any kind. I'm theorizing that they buy pants that are too big then get them tailored, but I'm not sure. I feel like that's an odd question to ask someone. There's a lot more flexibility with work clothes, as far as I can see. Some of our teachers wear jeans and t-shirts to class.

In conclusion: when it comes to clothes, Cuba has its priorities straight.

Landings, toilets, and locals

So much has happened in four days I figured a list would be the best way to attempt to catch up.

1. We arrived in Cuba in a terminal for only Americans. Walking down the steps from the plane and walking toward the airport, Stephanie turned to me and said, "Oh yeah. Best decision ever." I have to agree. To leave a snow-covered New England and arrive in sunny, 80-degree Cuba is as wonderful as you could imagine it to be.
All of the flights to and from the terminal were Miami flights - the José Martí Airport has this separate section for Americans in order to, uh, insure their legit arrival. And/or to keep security tight, and make sure that we know immediately that we are the bane of their existence. Many of the passengers on the flight brought toys, food, and medications for (presumably) their Cuban relatives. I heard today that they can only visit family once every three years, and can send $100 every three months (rules courtesy of the Bush administration). There was a fence behind which the families could wait, and sliding doors with a large black bar across it so they couldn't see in unless the doors opened. Driving away, there are lots of communist billboards telling us how much we suck. (¡Bienvenidos a La Habana!)

2. Weather = Perfection.

3. Toilets without seats. We have devised many different techniques for usage including: the sink grab (clutch onto the sink for dear life), tripod (fingertips on the bathroom floor), hover (standing at an angle in order to successfully deliver), etc. All result in extremely tired thigh muscles. Living on the twelfth floor with a really slow elevator also is quite the workout... we always take the stairs going down.

4. Habana Vieja is what you'd imagine it to be: beautiful, cobblestone alleyways, old buildings, bright colors, tourist traps, locals who mutter "Estados Unidos" to each other as we walk by chattering in English. The locals enjoy giving wrong directions to tourists just to mess with them. At one point in order to find a certain restaurant, we asked a security guy if he could give us directions. He ended up walking us to the place, and started chatting us up (as well as he could, as I kept having to say "lo siento" and asking him to repeat himself. He ended up asking me casually if I could give him a CUC, and I didn't have just one on me, so I couldn't. I feel bad, but oh well).



5. Classes are interesting. Definitely the best one thus far has been Cuba en Siglo XXI (Cuba in the 21st century). Yesterday we got a tour around the neighborhood from Gerardo, one of the Casa guys. He like the mayor - he knows practically everyone we run into, and greets them with hugs. He showed us a few different places where we could go to get cheap food, and then brought us to the neighborhood Bodega. Bodegas are warehouses that are in each area, and the local residents go there for the essentials. It's extremely cheap. There's rice, salt, sugar, milk, beans, and other such things that every person has a ration for. We talked to a woman there (Sonya, one of Gerardo's friends, of course) and she told us how they have a certain amount per person, then if someone has a job they get to get more. She admitted that the living situation and food situation is very frustrating for them, but they're all very hopeful that Obama will pull through for them.
Today in Siglo class we talked to a woman named Margarita who grew up in New York, then moved to Cuba (she has Cuban relatives, I think). She told us more about the Cuban government, and that sort of stuff. I didn't know that they have a parliament system like Canada and Great Britain, and this was established after the revolution in an attempt to find a system of government that's more "just" than the American puppets that were the presidents before (Batista, etc.). It's a good system, but she said that there's only one political party (the Communist party) because dissenters can't quite organize themselves. The only dissenters that actually get attention are usually American mercenaries. There was a group of "librarians" that just had some books in their rooms and called themselves librarians, and spread anti-Cuban sentiments were breakin' laws, etc. and were put in jail just so that the Americans could say that Cuba was imprisoning librarians. Craziness.

That's it for now. Lots of other stuff has happened, but I figure I'll get this up here sooner than later now that I have the internet.

Ciao!
Meg

Some photos:

el malecón:
our room:
en habana vieja: