Letters de Havana, Cuba - Part 1

Hi folks. It’s Tom here, sitting back easy at a Mexican beach, and I just received this message from my friend in Cuba,

“Greetings from Havana, Cuba. Made it here safely. Let everyone know. Was surprised to see many Americans on the flight to Cuba. One such, a missionary from Texas, who let me knows that god wants me to travel to see his work. Then he  blessed me on my travels. Cuba was strictly no religion, but times are changing. Who doesn’t need a good travel blessing?

I was able to split the 25CUC (1CUC=$1USD) taxi ride. Travel score! The casa particular, room in a house, which I booked did not expect me (internet is scarce, only in hotels),and currently had a plumbing problem, so I was referred to another house. Now I have an amazing room/apartment, in a family’s house, which has a full shower, AC, kitchen and more space than I need, for 20CUC a night. Resourcefully, I wash my clothes in the shower; and boil my drinking water. From my stair case I look out into several other colorful apartments. There’s no internet of course, so I’m writing this ahead of time and paying good money to send it electronically to you(postal package prices).

Breakfast at the house 4CUC, and its pretty big loads of good fruit. Heavy on the delicious guava in the juice drink, jam, and prepared fresh. The rationed street food with the locals (1CUC) has been good as well, even if people don’t appreciate me in the non-for tourist establishments. Its hard to tell because even if they do appreciate me, they act the same way.

Havana is a camera’s dream; but so far its been more hassle than enjoyment. For the most part no one smiles or talks to me. Technically no citizen here should need anything. Its all provided. Unless they are a capitalist who want more for themselves. For the record, I enjoy all systems of government and wish them all the best. Its always interesting to see them in practice. I get the feeling that Cuba is not all-inclusive “for the people“; but for its people alone. And, that the country, not the people, despise having to subject their system to tourism for profit; at least we get to take a look. Maybe this notion will change outside Havana.

Havana screams of the vibrant culture and overabundance of money from a previous time, when the wealth was unbalanced . Now, still colorful, many grand buildings have this added texture of crumbling concrete and dark mold. Somehow this appears romantic for me. The lack of perfection; but I would not step on a single balcony. The cars are indeed old, but there are an equal amount of modern cars and buses. The joke is that there is a car museum, of old cars, and that the old cars in the museum are in worse appearance than the beautiful ones on the street. I love seeing classic cars packed full of people. Motorcycles with side carts. There is a lack of bicycles however. A shame. Walking has been fine for me.

I stumbled into a volleyball game. The indoor gymnasium touting to be the home of a long ago boxer “Kid Chocolate”, was in ridiculous disrepair. The bathrooms might have had a sleepy attendant, but solely for wiping down what was already broken. I have much more to explore in the showy “Old Havana”.

I’m figuring everything out. Learning lessons. I saw one hustle coming a mile away, similar to a hustle in Thailand. I went along hoping to prove myself wrong - I didn’t - but I didn’t have to stay long to look at the fake cigars, even after the exhausting walk to see the fake “festival de salsa”. Snooze. If anyone in any country, says “My friend, My friend” they are the opposite. I met some other Cuban guys in the street, hung out in their house and then went to the dance club with them “Casa de Musica”. Realistically no Cuban should have the 5CUC entry cost (10CUC for me). I hoped it would be worth me paying the money, and covering “my friend”. Its really just for tourists, although mainly Spanish speaking tourists, as I dozed off when a comedian broke up the Western music at 3am and told jokes for an hour. Too fast for me to understand. The dancing started to pick around 4AM. I got half a decent conversation in but couldn’t convince “my friend” that I was not interested in his fully-clothed dancing prostitutes. Pretty sure everyone in the club was a prostitute in some sense of the word. I hoped  to justify my extra spending (45CUC total), paying for two (which happens a lot), by having a fun experience - but it was boring. The dancing was boring. Everyone was fake and it was equal to any other club playing the same popular music. I had hoped for more fun, or live music and instead just felt distrustful of everyone. Finally, a Cuban guy, living in Vegas, drove me home for nothing. My other “friends” were supposed to cook me dinner for what I owe them, but fearing a lack of decent conversation, I didn’t go. The truth is I expected what I was getting into, carried little money, it happened, and now I can work from there with more positive experiences.

On a real night in Havana, masses of Cubans congregate on the sea wall or in large groups, just chatting like rebellious 7^th graders at the gas station in a small town. That’s their night. I haven’t seen the profusion of street music I’d hoped for, or any. No one hassles me in the night. Seems safe.

I’ve been impressed with my Spanish. Sometimes it flows like my English - I pretend. I use my limited vocabulary to say a lot, but easily get confused with hearing information and yearn to learn more words. I’m having fun with it, and glad I made the investment for a month of Spanish lessons. I can’t remember which language I conversed in now.

I’ll be shooting straight east or west away from Havana, and see what develops. I’m going to go on the attack with smiles, more hello’s, and some new words I learned, like “you’re lying”/ Not sure what my Cuba dream is, or was, but I’m hoping to find it. If not it’s a learning experience, as always, and perhaps a more expensive one. Alternately, I could be hanging out with the awesome family I left in my last days in Mexico; to instead put myself thru this less friendly environment. Mexico is a blessed country; hopefully friendlier things will develop here. Soon.

Since internet is not readily available writing again may not be possible until the end of the trip. Will do my best. ”

See Ya Later America

Goodbye America, for now. This guy is heading south to learn spanish. Found I could ride this Greyhound pass straight into Mexico. So, I'll be starting easy in Guadalajara (picking up near where I left off in May) and, from there, I'll follow my new mantra: "...sometimes you end up in a canoe on the Mississippi...". That's the best I can tell you about my future plans.
A special thanks to Tennessee, Louisiana, Mississippi, Colorado, Texas, Davy and his yellow canoe, older (and newer) friends -- all, for reeducating me on the heart of America; which I found starts south of the Mississippi, then flows upward. I have found a new part of America to remain proud of, thru rich musical history, distinct foods (perhaps too fried), evolving cultures, and unending genuine hospitality. It doesnt always make sense, yet it works.

One day, I have much more to explore in Louisiana, new friends to visit, and so many more canoe adventures to start around the country.

Happy New Year everyone!

Christmas Eve Begins! blow baby blow!

Chilled out beginning in India House Hostel. Probably the most laid back complete hostel Ive seen to date. Our private room last night had massive paint peelings. And I thought, heck yeah, New Orleans!

Found some red beans and rice with grilled catfish for lunch. Then hopped the trolley (yah the trolley $1.25) into town. The neighborhoods in midtown had great bars witha great vibe but I need to see the craziness downtown. Just found a brass band near Frenchman called the Spotted Cat. Its nestled in the side streets of colorful houses. Characters all over the streets. Big plans for awesome music tonight!

Hope everyone has a stellar xmas eve! I'll be thinking of snow, cozy fireplaces, christmas trees, presents, family, pierogis, borscht, post-feast napping,and the movie White Christmas (with the comments mom makes about it every year); as I celebrate another non-traditional xmas away from home because this where I landed. The hostel should have a gathering tomorrow.

Love everyone

Mile 95: Goodbye 'Dignity'; Hello New Orleans!

'Dignity' canoe & Davy

"I gave away the canoe last night in exchange for a po' boy and my bar tab" said Davy as he swaggered by my tent, after the bar. I felt indifferent. Ending at the port city of New Orleans would be a fitting end to the saga::.15 days and 350 miles. I got to experience a lot of the Mississippi, build up muscle, and take some great pics of a America's modern marvel. One of those trips where 2 weeks felt like 2 months.

This last 20 miles down river were relatively quiet at first. Little traffic. The clouds gave way to some sun, then we saw the city 3 times around false bends. We were defeated as we hit the last stretch and the river began to flow backwards in a massive eddy with the wind on us hard. A barge overtook another barge coming closer to us than any other on the trip -- for one last scare.

Sitting along the New Orleans river walk a couple took the $400 canoe for $40 (and a majority of the Walmart gear), so we can celebrate! We donated the rest of goods to the homeless people scattered about. They were happy. And like a mermaid losing her fin, we walked into New Orleans -- land people, again.

Bring on the holidays! I'm thinking Mexico City for New Years .

Rain. Wind. Rain. [Tornado Cancelled]

[Update: The tents started to blow violently; the rain came down hard. Davy's tent took off (while he was at the store) and I dropped a rock on top of it. Tornado sirens went off. I collapsed my tent, pulled in the canoe, and made it to Amour de Cafe (with my dry bags) to dry off and warm up. Now, far less grumpy. The tornado warning was eventually cancelled. The sky is clearing. I'm sure the waves are still choppy. We'll hold for the night].

[Earlier] Hiding in my tent and eating dry packets of oatmeal because its too windy to start the propane burner. Testing the limits of this childrens tent and its surviving! How is Walmart's Ozark Trail not sponsoring us yet?! The thick fog that set in last night and blanketed the coast like an eerie movie has lifted. I'm content reading Vonnegut a bit longer; but things are damp all-around. Maybe sun by noon? Too bad its just the NOLA airport and the suburbs (shotgun houses and Christmas lights galore) over the levy. No good stores; no Starbucks.

Mile 115?: Amongst giants; suicide alley part II

Today was blues skies and hot sunshine. For parts of the day one shore was peaceful and green; the other shore was larger and larger factories billowing smoke; then the shore became wall to wall lines of barges awaiting picking up. In a way this became the new norm, the steel levy.Passing by titanic sized ships being loaded with coal and chemicals was often awe-inspiring. Watching tiny men walk their lengths. We watched the movements of all things metal; studied them; and reacted to them with patience as we drifted by. Manmade rapids would appear an challenge us. Such a strange challenge. Land of giants.

Then the river gave way to a long serene stretch, like peaceful lake forged by miles of dam to one side. Its calm made me nervous. We came across a migration of thousands of tiny ducks amid the barges. They would fly and land near us again and again.

We are camped somewhere between barges. Workers are busy. A fire seems improbable. 20 miles outside New Orleans. My arms hurt <whine>

Mile 147: All is swell. Real swell.

We had to wait until noon for the river fog to clear. Zero visibility until then. Thunderstorms and rain loomed but we just got wind on us that created 1-2 foot waves the length of our path down glorious Suicide Alley. For 15 miles the graineries and shore factories were got bigger and closer. Awaiting barges lined the shore. But while we hit arm exhausting chops down this stretch there was little traffic. Im almost sad.
At this point the barge traffic stops and gives way to larger ships like the one pictures that head the rest of the way to sea. They dont move very often. We just pass a lot of them.
Still seeing eagles. Perhaps a migration.
We've made it to Gramercy. Davy is anxious. His last attempt at this river ended at this same town in 2010 when his expensive kayak was stolen. Just 150 miles to go. Or as he says "hes almost there". Being the hitchhiker; I'm only halfway there myself. ;)