Thursday, 13 February 2020: la Havana

 

We had planned to meet Sandra and Peter at 9:00 near the sculpture of the girl riding the cock.  I hadn’t changed the time of my phone so basically I was an hour late.  I sat down to enjoy cafe con leche while Justin finished in the shower.  Hopefully we’d be able to salvage the day.  

We did learn the story behind the sculpture somewhere during the day — the cock is representative of the man in Cuba.  The woman dominates the man in two ways, one through sex (she is nude and wearing heels) and the second is from the kitchen (she is holding a fork).  Hmmm...

Justin joined me and we totally frittered away the morning in a cafe that had internet.  Yes, we were paying double prices for our coffee, but we had the service we needed.  

From our vantage point looking out over the square we watched tons of school kids going through their morning.  The younger kids played relay games while the older kids flirted and laughed with friends.  All the kids wear the safe uniforms throughout the country.  The little boys wear short pants and the girls wear pinafore jumpers.  Middle school students have a separate ensemble and the high school kids wear mustard colored bottoms with white tops.  

First impressions:  the city is crumbling ... there are no materials to make repairs... there was a line for petrol.  I learned from our driver that the cars were waiting for diesel.  When the truck did arrive, much later in the day, the people would need to wait for more than an hour after it was pumped into the supply tank (for the fumes to settle) before vehicles could start pumping.  But these folks were in line.

We enjoyed breakfast in the square.  Good thing they served breakfast late; many diners were already enjoying lunch but we still wanted breakfast.  We finally connected with Peter and Sandra and I owned that I had screwed up the time.  We made a plan to meet about 6:30.  By now, Justin and I were ready for a siesta.  

Several weeks ago when we were in Merida at Boston’s for a Packers game, our waitress was Gracey who was from Cuba.  She told us about her friend Leyanis who still lives in Havana.  We’d planned to meet Leyanis at 5:30 and we were not late.  She gave us some great ideas and helped us to focus our plans for our time in Cuba.

Nightfall found us, on time, with Peter and Sandra enjoying a stroll by the capital and the national opera house on our way to Floridita, the club where Hemingway is said to have whiled away some time.  They are known for their daiquiris... so we had a few.  Great music too.  We enjoyed a rather simple dinner at La Pina de Plata and music at a few venues as we walked back to the old square.  The music scene in la Habana is vaguely reminiscent of New Orleans — music spilling into the streets and the compelling need to dance.  That part is fun.  The crumbling buildings and uneven sidewalks are not so fun.