A Cuban Wrap

9/2/15   

    
    
    
    
 I am at Lima,Peru waiting for my connecting flight to Brazil. Here is a quick wrap up on Havana.

1. Use only CUC or both MN and CUC?

Both. While most things tourist related must be in CUC (bus fare, good restate arts, etc.), shops using MN has more affordable prices. There are also shops that uses MN only, especially local food stores with awesome fruit juices and fruit sellers. Also, small towns mostly use MN. You can often get better prices when you bargain in MN.

2. But how can I tell?

If you are relatively good with currency, it is usually not a problem. CUC is brightly colored and more fancy looking. Of course, some locals will try to confuse you. Just stand there and make sure all the bills are right before moving on. Think of it this way: at 1CUC to 25 MN, they have a string motivation to “accidentally” give you a wrong bill. 

3. Do the locals mark up prices for tourists?

In touristic places: you bet. Once a seller quoted me 100MN for fruits, and we eventually settled at 35MN. You may want to bargain. However, restaurants and food sellers usually have prices listed. Away from city centers, this happens less (or I was just too naive…)

4. How are Cubans?

I can only speak of the people I have met. In Havana, almost everyone that talks to you want something: sell cigars, restaurants, tours, money, beer, sex. They love to greet me in Japanese or mandarin and then start their speech on knowing a good restaurant nearby (often at a marked up price, the guy gets a commission, and you end up with an expensive check). Cigars are usually defects. If you walk along Malecon at weekend, people may ask you for beer, and girls will come up to you offering “services” and massages. If you go to a bar or club, you will be extremely popular: they want you to buy them drinks and pay the entrance fee. Even at $1.50 a beer, or $4 a mixed drink, they add up quickly.

5. Best restaurants?

The paladars (government owned restaurants) in Vedado are pretty good. I loved Artechef. Cafe TV is also good. Most have orfertas that includes a drink (can be a beer), main course and dessert for $5 CUC and up. The portion is not small. One thing to skip: pizzas. 

6. Best food?

Ice cream. If you go local, it is 10 MN for an ensalada: 5 scoops. Line up with locals at Coppelia and you get 5MN for ensalada (but only with whatever the offer of the day is). The shop at 23 and Infanta sells condensed milk flavor: delicious. There is also ice cream in a coconut half shell. Taste good, but gets messy under the sun.

The second best: fruit juices. At 3MN a glass, and with choices of guayaba, papaya (fruta bomba), mango, and occasionally melon, they are really delicious. Be aware: there is a difference between fruit juice natural vs fruit juice vs refrescos. Go for fruit juice natural.

7. To go

The concept of “to go” is not very popular here. If you get juice, it comes in a glass: you finish it on the spot. Same goes for coffee. They do have some food in box to go, and also ice cream in good carton to go. (I had one carton of ice cream: it gets messy). 

8. Weather

I highly recommended the winter period (dec-feb). In summer (June-August), it is blisteringly hot and super humid. Think of Singapore weather, but without much air conditioning. 

9. The thing I wish Cuba has

Coffee houses with air conditioning. The cafes here are actually restaurants, and there are very few places you can sit and enjoy a coffee in air conditioning. Trust me, you want air conditioning after walking under the sun. 

10. Cash

Don’t repeat my mistake: bring lots of cash (you can change it a few times at the CADECA: the official exchange). The recommended amount is $100 U.S. a day. I concur: if you plan to be traveling around the country. Buses for tourists are not expensive, but they still add up fast. Even if you plan to go local, you will need money for wifi, lodging, transportation, meals and drink. Also, cigars are not cheap! Rum is cheap though. 

Also, atm, visa or master card from US banks do not work in Cuba. Visa seem to work better. And yes, some cards just won’t work at all. Cash is king. 

11. Cities

Havana (duh). Santa Clara (Che is buried there). Trinidad (cool architecture). 

12. Drive or bus?

Actually, driving is not that bad, mostly because there are not very many cars around (except in city centers). If you stay in hotels, intercity buses can pick you up there. 

13. Internet

There is wifi now, but only at certain spots. Look for big groups all concentrating on their phone. 23rd street in Vedado has good wifi signal. You must buy a scratch card. They come with user name and password, good for an hour, usually $3 CUC an hour. Big hotels usually have their own. Fun fact: foreigners are allowed to have Internet access and therefore, wifi. If you find a expat, make friends and he/she maybe able to let you connect for free.

14. Lack of Internet

Life sucks without Internet. Apps do not work. No emails. Hard to do online checkin. 

15. Jogging

I fulfilled my goal of running in Havana (every other day, in fact). The pavement sucks: potholes, cracks, ruptures, uneven surfaces: definitely watch your footing. The weather also kills: high humidity. Early morning or late evening works well. Malecon (8km) is great: good scenery, next to sea, lots of people. Since vehicles here bleach black soots and dark clouds, strong lungs are needed. I once ran along Malecon and a bus came towards me: I was hit with soot, rocks and other debris. It tasted bad, I coughed a lot, and blinded me for a few seconds. 

16. Hydration

It is hot, humid, not much shade in the cities. Be prepare to sweat a lot. Drink lots of water. Tap water is actually drinkable. Bottled water is available, but expensive (1cuc for small). Large bottles are hard to find, but they do sell gallon sizes in some larger shops. A lot of locals freeze their water overnight and let it melt as the day goes by: highly recommend that if you have access to a fridge.

Revolution and Reform

9/1/15

   
    
    
    
   
I have great admiration for people who stand up for their belief (even though I sometimes believe I don’t quite believe what their believe in). For most of us, it is easy to say we believe in something, but bend (over. Heh) when outside forces become too much to bear. To be honest, I think I will sell out lots of ideals for lots of money on the table (or in a briefcase, in bank accounts, even in unmarked, non sequential bills- yay capitalism). Not just because I like money, but more because I know what I am willing to give up, and what I am not good at (resisting offers and withstanding tortures). Doing anything that may cause death of innocent(s) under even war situations (even though there is no innocent bystanders in times of war…) is simply not something I am good at. In general, I think I like humanity more than my believes (unless they wrong me, of course). 

If you have been reading this blog (please do), you may be familiar with my routine by now: running errands the day before I leave the country/city/town/hostel. It saddened me to realize this is the second last country I will visit on this trip: after Brazil, I will be returning to Argentina to fly back home (well, also stopping at Miami and Atlanta. I have the most complicated flights). Nonetheless, certain things need to be done before I leave so they do not arrest me: I had to pay cash for my casa (which means another visit to the money exchange), use up what little cash I have left, and visit the museum I have been saving up for: the museum of revolution (conveniently located 5 minutes walk from the casa). 

Changing money in Havana is usually not a bad experience.  You wait in line, they call you in, and you get the cash. Today, for some reason, things just went wrong (or maybe I was lucky before?). I queued up, and witness a very irritated tourist yelling at some Cubans about them cutting (not literally) lines. Apparently the Cubans wanted to wait in the shade, so they formed another line across the street but did not mentioned anything to the tourists (why are some many Cubans changing money? I think it is between CUC and MN. That made me wanted some M&M. But this is Cuba…). When I got in, the guy behind the counter was doing everything to shortchange me. Twice before, the counter would give me change ($0.50 and 0.25), but he refused to give me $0.75 worth today. They also said the system was offline and could not print receipts: which was amusing since they use very old computers that hooked up individually to a printer. This begged the question: what system was offline? It is just an on screen calculator, and a direct connection to a printer. I half expected to hear a dial tone for the dial up to Internet (wow, old timey reference!).

The afternoon visit to the museum was a much more interesting experience. The museum, used to be the presidential palace, is three stories high and part of it is still undergoing ongoing renovation. The exhibits started with the revolution against Spain, but quickly divulged into the socialist revolution lead by Fidel Castro, Camilo Cienfuegos, Che Guevara, and a few others. There were a lot of anti-Batista news clippings and why they revolution was necessary. In 1953, Fidel led an attacked on Moncada army barrack in Santiago, but was quickly arrested and threw into jail. However, he drew spotlight when he defended himself and gave the famous “History will absolve me” speech. He was still thrown into jail (guess that defense did not work out so well. And I wonder: what do history say of Fidel Castro outside of Cuba?), but released in 1955 under amnesty. Fidel then fled to Mexico, where he met Camilo and Che. Determined to be back for a planned uprising, they came back to Cuba using a boat named Granma, of which a replica is stored in the museum (err…why?! What’s the use of a real size fake boat?!). They shipwrecked off the coast, and were spotted by the army. Only a dozen or so out of 85 managed to escape and joined up with the guerrillas. In 1957, the guerrillas started to turn the tide (lots of watery reference!), and Fidel had the famous interview with New York Times. Batista came up with a plan to end Fidel, sending 10,000 men to go after the rebels. Vastly outnumbered (300 only) but with help from local farmers, Fidel managed to beat back the army, and the rest is history (well, there are a lot more about Che and Camilo, but I am just too exhausted to recap everything. May I suggest Wikipedia?)

From then on, it was reform period. The country stared nationalizing industries and turned all private enterprises into government (or as the propaganda said: people and citizens of Cuba). Overnight, shops and factories were confiscated, and employees became state workers (while the corporations lost everything). Lands revert to farmers, all buildings belong to the government and no one can own any houses. For me, the revolution history was captivating, but the reform exhibits were just purely propaganda. (I should know. China did about the same things and had even better propaganda.)  Looking at where Cuba is (figuratively, not literally) today, that reform has definitely failed miserably. While the rebels were good soldiers and tacticians, they were pretty dismal public servants and governors. 

The exhibit did give special mentuons to two dead comrades: Camilo (died in a plane accident), and Che (died in Bolivia. He was fighting as guriella in Bolivia when he was captured, tortured, had his arms cut off and then shot to death in front of CIA observers- which, I have to say, is a terribly way to die and completely go against any convention. PSA: torture=bad). It is a very nostalgic memorial, and it appeared that the Cubans loved these two leaders a great deal. I finished the tour looking at funny murals about the Reagan, Bush I and Bush II (that period of insanity. Which could be repeated if Donald Trump wins the election. Please, no.) On the flip side, there is no painting making fun of Kennedy, Clinton or Obama. 

As I try to decide what to blog, I was hit (again, figuratively, not literally) by the thoughts on how we are not only defined by what we believe, but what we accomplish. Strong belief is important; for without it, you cannot withstand trials and tribulations. You must have the passion and the fire within (again, not literally. That would be the spontaneous human combustion) to fight, without regard of your own lives,and lives of love ones around you, to accomplish your goal. However, you must also be good at the processes leading to these goals. If you want a revolution, you must be a good general. However, if you want a strong government, you must be a good governor. So many revolutionaries seemed to forget one important fact: they are not good at everything. In desperate times, a fighter is needed; but in peaceful periods, good administrators are essential. Knowing oneself and the limits is important, not just for oneself, but sometimes for the good of the population.

(Yeah, I am happy being the one in the crowd, not at the front of the crowd. Unless, of course, it is a queue under the hot sun in high humidity.)

The Engineer on the Train

n8/31/15

   
    
    
    
    
 (One month left! This time next month I will be in Argentina again, ending my 6 months trip. I can’t believe it…)

I am a civil engineer (really, I have licenses to prove it), and I work on a lot of civil related projects (except civil rights projects, well, unless it is a monument for civil rights). I have always been a little confused by the association of operating a train with engineers. The first time I saw the slogan was during a visit to the MIT gift shop, where a key chain said :”I am a civil engineer! When can I drive a train?”. Come to think of it, did it actually said just “engineer” and not “civil engineer”? (My memories are failing!) However, I have to admit: trains fascinates me. One of my very good friend, George, is a train enthusiast, and I have learned a little (ok, very very little) about trains from him. (Mostly, I just play with his toy trains and tracks at his house, in his back yard.) They are marvelous machines that have been improving throughout this century. 

The game plan today: visit the town of Casablanca (there are lots of them in South America), and take the Hershey electric train to, well, the station of Hershey (and town of Camilo Cienfuegos). You may wonder why there is a town call Hershey in Cuba (well, I did). Turns out, there used to be a Hershey factory there and the train system was used by them as a form of transportation (duh). When the revolution happened, the factory was abandoned, and the train became a passenger train for local residence, going from Casablanca to Mantanzas. 

Deciding to start early, I took the ferry from old Havana to Casablanca at 10am. It was an easy ride, though I had to undergo a bag check and a body check (with the security magic wand, wow, that sounded dirty…). It was the weirdest procedure for the ferry is really a piece of…floating antique. It fits about 30 people, contains 4 seats and standing spaces. I am not quite sure why security check was needed, especially since a solid kick to the hull may sink the ferry. 15 minutes later, we disembarked at Casablanca.

Casablanca is a small town, most famously known for the Che house and the white Christ statue (that seem to be a very popular statue across South America. Strange considering the history of Spaniard and the revolutions…). I walked up to see the Christ statue, only to realize it was under maintenance- just like most of the places in Havana. I walked by the house of Che, but was advised by a few tourists not to bother, since you cannot walk into the actual house. (I really have to read up more on Che. He is a very popular figure here, but some locals also critiqued him heavily.)

Since the Hershey train (I kinda feel like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory every time I say Hershey train) is used by locals, it was an interesting experience. The 12:21 (precise!) train started relatively close to on time, and we rocked and shakes our way out of the station. Along the way, sights of old and new sugar cane plantation filled the landscape. The metal covers banged every time the train swayed, and we were treated to a cacophony of doors banging, people chatting, children crying, and an occasional screech from pigs (yup, they also allow life stocks onto the train, but mostly in bags). As an engineer, it was a terrible feeling. It is obviously that Casablanca and Hershey were the original stops: they both have actual physical stations. The test of the stops were simply concrete huts built along the side of the track. The train also stopped at convenient locations (I.e., any where) for people trying to board or get off. It was a weird mess that somehow worked: the train remained relatively on schedule. 

Then two weird events happened: the fate collector saw me and deliberately skipped me, which caused everyone around me to shake their heads and silently motioned me to keep quiet. I suspected it was because he had no change for tourists currency (the CUC. Locals pay with their own currency at a very low rate). Then the train broke down just 10 minutes away from Hershey. The conductor opened all does and let some passengers off, while he ran around with a piece of wire and a screw driver to fix the problem. I decided to stay in the cabin, and was rewarded twenty minutes later: he fixed the problem and we entered Hershey.

Only for me to see the return train almost pulling away across the platform. (A little explanation: there are only 3 trains a day in each direction. If I waited for the next train, I will have to wait till 6pm in Hershey, and hope to be back by 8:30pm, and hope the ferry is still working.) I jumped onto that train, deciding to skip the town visit. This time, the conductor collected my fare: only to realize he did not have enough change. In the end, he took whatever change I had, and called it even. The ride back was even better. We had more piglets and pigs, a military member, people smoking cigars and cigarettes, and more random stops with passengers jumping off moving trains. It was worth every sweaty minute I spent on the train.

After that, it was another long ferry ride (where the agent checking my bag wanted my packet of moist towelettes, and I said no), and then dinner. I went to a highly recommended Chinese restaurant, where the chef is from Shanghai. The food was actually pretty good, and I had a short conversation with a family from Shanghai visiting Havana. The father and I talked about our impression of Cuba, and he said it best: Havana reminds him of China 15 years ago, and of Hong Kong 30 years ago. 

The dinner conversation actually stuck with me during the walk back. It is true: Havana is a little like Hong Kong of 1970s to 1980s. The old buildings, the cramped living spaces and the terrible air quality. However, Hong Kong also had a great transportation system, which Cuba clearly lacks. The trains I have seen so far are in terrible conditions: old, dilapidated, rusted, and collapsing. While it adds to the charisma of the country, it is really a tough sight for an engineer to see. Hopefully, with the changing wind of government, Cubans will be able to improve on their transportation system and take a page from China. Maybe the next time I am in Cuba, they will have magnetic elevated trains and I can travel from Havana to Trinidad in an hour.

(Although if that happens, I bet I won’t be able to afford the price of said train tickets, and have to bus all the way.)

And it Rained

8/30/15

                      
And it RAINed.
It started off slow, but increased in intensity and volume until sheets of water tumbled out of the sky. A seemingly never-ending river that plunged onto earth, washing and cleansing anything in its path: a few fishermen, tourists trying to catch a view of waves pounding on the Malecon, and one traveler who timed his return badly. Dressed in tshirt and shorts, he was completely drenched, with the wet clothing hanging onto him for their dear lives. Thankfully, it was hot and humid in Havana, so he was not terribly cold. As he walked along the waterfront, his thoughts returned to his itinerary of the day. 

It was such a simple plan, one that included walking to the Lennon Park (so named because the park has a John Lennon statue in it), visiting the Jose Gomez memorial, and having lunch at Artechef cafe (highly recommended). The day started innocently: cloudy and not too humid, which made the traveler felt motivated: it would not be too unbearably hot for his 4 miles one way walk to the park. When he was about to set off, he was suddenly asked to switch rooms for reason unknown to him. He rushed to pack everything, moved his luggages before starting his journey after that brief delay. 

The sky was overcast, a welcome relief for the traveler who had been baking under hot tropical sun for the last week. The scene was chaotic: pedestrians rushing in and out of dilapidated building, on and off cracked and broken pavement, seemingly eager to complete their errands on this day of rest. The sound of street vendors yelling, smell of fumes from old cars, and taste of sea mixed with metal filled the air in old Havana. The traveler, being more used to this after a week, rushed along with the locals, but deep down wondered if he should have left this city earlier. After all, his time was limited, and there seemed to be better places to be a tourist than where he was.

He dutifully walked to Park Lennon, avoiding deep potholes and large crumbling gashes in sidewalks along the way. Even without the sun beating down on the city, it was hot. His thoughts lazily drifted as different types of music floated through the air: jazz, salsa, someone practicing violin, hip hop; each household holding its own concert. The residents, chased out of their apartments by the heat and lack of ventilation, sat on their doorsteps enjoying the eclectic sound mix. Here and there, tables were set up along the road, occupied by old and young men playing domino, while the occasional smoker smoking cigars perfumed the air with the unique bitter taste of tobacco. The traveler walked past all these, marveling at the presence of collective community, but also secretly wishing for an air conditioned coffee shop-something as rare as wifi in Havana. 

He reached the said park: a small square that contained, as promised, a John Lennon statue resting on a bench. In the middle of the square, elevated by beams, was a giant model representation of a molar. The traveler felt a little cheated by the statue but terribly intrigued by the molar. What on earth processed someone to honor a molar? Is this a dentist park? Is that a model of John Lennon’s molar? 

Then it started to rain. 

Hurrying along, the traveler managed to find Artechef and had a delicious and yet affordable lunch. His thought turned to the food his missed, and before long, the restaurant seemed utterly too stifling. He paid his bill, thanked the very attentive and courteous staff, and began his walk back. 

Rain poured from above, like rivers of frustrated tears from a failed relationship. 

He walked along the Malecon, admiring the waves crashing single-mindedly and dedicatedly into the old seawall. Water cascaded down his cap brim, obscuring vision by turning everything into fragmented reflections through the water droplets. Rain, now coupled with strong wind, soaked everything in its path with glee. The traveler was wet from head to toe. He delicately placed his cell phone in his backpack, and gamely soldiered on. May as well enjoy the scenery, he thought; I am already wet anyway. He giggled a little at the possible dirty meaning of the words, and continued trudging along the shoreline. The rain never lightened up nor ended. 

And it rained.

 

The Information Gap

8/29/15

   
    
    
    
 Internet: the one ubiquitous thing we are accustomed to nowadays. It is the treasure trove (or trash can) of information, the place where memories are stored (whether you want to or not) and where cat memes last for eternality (yeah, I know, I have lots of cat photos on my social media too). Before I started my trip, I made sure every country I am visiting has Internet connection: because I know I am going to do a blog; and I have grew very dependent on internet for all travel related questions. I google atm locations in airports, train and bus stations. I read other people’s blog on how to get to a remote place. I read up on restaurants and hostels reviews before I arrive at a new destination, and Wiki travel is on my homepage most of the time. The Internet has definitely changed the way I travel. Then I decided to be adventurous and come to Cuba. 

I had one goal (yup, just one. I have learned to do less in Havana) today: use the pool at Hotel Sevilla. Since it opens at 10am, I decided to be there at 10:10am. As usual the gates were locked and I was settling down to wait when a mother with two kids arrived. They asked me if the pool was opened, and I told them no. The mum then proceeded to shout at the people inside, and someone opened the gate. I thanked her, and walked in with them. 

The pool was fairly quiet when we arrived. I found a place to sit under an umbrella and proceeded to pretend to read my kindle while covertly people-watch . There were lots of families with kids (one set of grandparents, one mum and her attractive friend; and lots of young couple full on makin out, sitting on laps, the guy tugging and adjusting swimwear). As the day passed, more and more people showed up, and the pool became 3/4 full by 1pm. Since I had to pay 15CUC (but can eat and drink up to 12 CUC), I decided to stay until 5pm, and ate lunch there. It was probably the most relaxing time I have spent in Cuba thus far. No one tried to sell me anything, and I was left alone to do whatever I want to (well, within legal limit. There were lots of kids there after all…). I also took some photos of the kids playing in the pool, since they were so cute. (Of course, I took those secretly, since openly taking photos of kids in swimming attire seems…a little pedophilic?) 

As I was sitting by the pool, my mind drifted to what I learned recently: how spoilt I am with almost any information at my finger tip. The weather, news, stock market indices, exchange rates, soccer scores, birthday alerts: these all come to my phone automatically usually. However, now that I only connect to wifi for 10inutes a day, I am much less aware of cutrent events. For example, I had to pull out (heh) my kindle to show the tour guide something I read on a hotel instead of using Wikipedia. It was also through cnn news alert that I knew a hurricane passed through the Caribbean. None of the locals mention s anything about it. In fact none of the locals talked much about world news at all. In a lot of ways, Cuba is disconnected from the outside world. (It is a little similar to China and North Korea, I guess.) While it makes people concentrate more on their immediate surrounding and their life, I actually feel a lot less connected to the rest of the world. That might actually be the best part of Internet: bringing the world closer and allowing us to realize we are all fairly similar: having similar desires and goals, facing similar problems and issues, and figuring out similar solutions. In all honesty, miss this closeness that makes me feel like I belong. Even when I am traveling, I never felt quite alone, as I have my blog and social media (well, and YouTube, what’s app and most importantly: readily available pornography!). In Cuba, I actually feel more isolates than any other place I have traveled thus far. It is amazingly how much Internet has changed the world, and how much we (or at least, I) have been changed by it. 

(Ahem. So please like my posts, let me know you are reading my blog! As the end of the trip draws ever closer, feel free to give me some feedbacks! I appreciate all comments, even ones that say I suck. But better if you say I am great, of course.)

With Jesus as my Guide

8/27/14

(I have waited so long to use this title!! Sigh, I am so 12 years old mentally…)

   
    
    
    
    
 I have a weird liking for city tours (ok, there are many things about me that is weird). It gives me a chance to know the city better, interact with someone from the city (the guides), and save me the time and energy on reading travel guides. At the same time, after so many free city walking tours which were awesome (Medellin, The graffiti tour in bogota, etc.), my expectation has sky rocketed. I now expect the guides to know everything, able to answer all my questions, and part the sea if I ask them to (imagine all the sushi possibilities!). 

I walked into the Tour agency around 9:50am for my city architecture tour. Having the past few days’ experience under my belt (which is a really great belt, by the way), I expected everything to go wrong. I had water, snack, kindle, book, sun screen, repellent, extra TP (toilet paper) all stored in my bag just in case. They did not disappoint: after waiting for 5 minutes, the receptionist told me there was an issue with the taxi. They were not sure what happened, and would let me know if the tour will be canceled or to let me join a different tour. Going with the flow (callback!), I just smile, nodded and continued to wait. About 15 minutes later, they told me the taxi for my tour did not show, but I could join another tour, and they would combine the city tour with the architecture tour. 

In the early days, Cuba had an indigenous population, which were tragically killed off or died off due to epidemic. The island became a fertile ground for immigrants all over the world: Arabs, Jamaicans, Europeans, Chinese, Africans, etc. Similar to other countries in South America, Cuba underwent a few (I think 2) revolutions to gain their independence. Hence, the buildings reflect these mix heritages: Spanish baroque, French classicism, American Art Deco, Russian block buildings are just a few that scatter throughout the city. As we moved from the old city to the newer part, it is very interesting to see how building change according to the period during development. More startling, the development basically stopped in the 1980s, and most historic buildings are in dire state of disrepair. The city has started to restore some buildings, mostly because of UNESCO and the coming of the Pope (wow, that just sound so wrong). 

My guide of the day is named…(wait for it) Jesus. This Jesus is, of course, a Cuban who studied foreign language in the university (for free). He speaks Italian, English, French and Spanish; and was actually more westernized than I am. He would occasionally complained about the smell, the sights, the ugliness of the building, the policies, the U.S., and many more. He was also particularly interested in talking about women, sex, and how Cubans are more open minded about such things than US and Europe. It was nice to finally talk to someone who is not just trying to see me things, or ignore my presence. We followed Jesus (actually, we took a taxi) around the city, and he explained more about the history and the culture. Fun facts: Cuba inherited so many canons that they used them as traffic barriers, or melted then down and form lion statues all around the city; the Chinese al left town during the nationalization (when Fidel came into power); the agency I booked the tour with belong to the historic society, and the profits actually pays 
 restorations; highway point 0 is in the capital building (under repair); old houses actually have system that collects rainwater and filter it through porous rocks. At the National Hotel, we actually got into a debate: lonely planet said that hotel is modeled after the Breaker’s in Palm Beach, but he said he has never heard of it. 

After following in Jesus’ footstep for about 3 hours, we ended our tour at the office, but not before we took a group photo and he departed advices on where to party; how to make kissing noise to attract girls (coz they love the attention); why no Cuban bride is a virgin on wedding day; and why he would never consider dating a virgin. I actually thoroughly enjoyed the tour, and got a glimpse into the mind set of Cuban young adults. They also want modernization, but fear increase in wealth gap and crime rate.

After that, I went for a cold chocolate drink at the Coco Museum. The sun was blistering hot, the humidity was high, service slow and air conditioning weak. For a moment, I wish I was Moses, wandering the desert but always shaded by clouds (maybe I was just delirious from the heat). I eventually went back to the casa and rested before finally eating some quick dinner.

Thinking back on the day, I was pleasantly surprised. While the tour was ok, Jesus actually allowed me to glimpse inside the mindset of young Cubans. We all have the same worry and doubts, prejudices and pride (not the book), and normal human desires. It was a lot of fun to see a local tell me how ugly the buildings look, how bad the buildings are, but then defend the local economy: most amusing of all, I was actually less affected by the waits, the odors, the smog, the cleanness of streets than Jesus was. It was a good day following Jesus after all.

Going with the Flow

8/26/15

                    
As a civil engineer whose focus is drainage (more specifically: transportation drainage. Even more specific: highways and light rails), I am acutely aware of but try hard to avoid water related analogies. Go with the flow, let thing wash over you (is that water boarding?), shit flows downhill (unless there is a pump, then they can defy gravity; which reminds me of the song from Wicked…), and many more. For some reason, I thought I am a seasoned (salted and peppered, with a touch of spicy) traveler by now, and am used to most of the travel related problems. Delays? It’s ok, I have my book and kindle. No beds? I can find another hostel online. No tours today? I can come back tomorrow (oops, I am talking to myself again, am I? Yes, yes you are). It is not until Havana, Cuba that make me realize: I still have more to learn about being Zen (the principle, not someone name Zen. Cool and chill name though).

Today was supposed to be a lazy day: check in with the tour agency, change money (which always make me do lots of mental calculations), and use the hotel pool next door. Last night, I came across Hotel Sevilla, and saw that they have a relatively large swimming pool. Checking with the reception, they said I was welcome to use the pool if I pay 15CUC, 12 of which can be used to buy food and drinks. (Meaning the entrance is 3, and you have to spend 12 in their establishment. Quite a capitalize concept, actually). With the stifling heat and humidity, I thought I will somehow painfully part with that money (eat less ice cream) and spend a relaxing day at a pool. Of course, I tend to overtly optimistic (I think I just said I am a pessimist twice in the last two posts…) and forget: I am in Cuba. To represent my day I think these three conversations are quite telling.

At the tour agency Santa Cristobel 
Me: I was here yesterday looking for architecture tour. Is there one tomorrow?

Agent: Let me check. We are very busy. (Check her handwritten notebook.) I think we have availability. You can start at 8am tomorrow?

Me: Yes, that sounds good.

Agent: (met a family, told them to sit at her desk while I sat at the sofa next to it.) so what time tomorrow?

Me: (confused. Was 8am just a suggestion?) Err, how long is the tour? How about 10am?

Agent: About 4 hours. 10 am is ok. You meet here at the agency. Are you alone?

Me: Yes.

Agent: We charge 12 more for single. It will be 32CUC.

I really did not want to spend that much on a 4 hours tour with no lunch. However, I decided I also really want to learn more about the architectures in this city, and it is one thing I was looking forward the most in Havana (apart from the museum of revolution, which cost 8 CUC). I then asked if they have other tours and if they have brochures. She said they have other tours, but no brochures, and the hotels know all about them. At that point, I took a deep cleansing breath, and walked off for some ice cream. (I have to say, good ice creams in Havana.) 

At second agency, where I saw tours and was curious about the packages (heh), though I could not afford them. 

Me: Hi, I would like to know about tour to Santa Clara (where Che’s body is), and Trinidad (good beach town).

Agent: Yes, we have those. What hotel do you stay in?

Me: oh, I am staying at a casa.

Agent: The bus only picks up at hotels. You will need to meet here. We don’t pick up just anywhere.

Me: Ok, how much is it? What are the itineraries? 

Agent: They are about 120 for Santa Clara and 260 for Trindad, lodging and meals included. Are you alone?

Me: (cringing) Yes…

Agent: We charge 15 more for single.

Me:….(sigh)

At Hotel Sevilla:

Me: Hi, I would like to use the pool.

Receptionist: You have to pay 15CUC, 12 can be used for drinks and food, the entrance is around the corner. 

(I walked around, saw a sign the pool is on level 1, and went to take the elevator. The attendant stopped me and asked me if I stayed there. When I said no, he said I was not allowed to use the lift, and must walk outside, around the corner to the swimming pool entrance. I walked outside, only to find the gates locked and a sign that said the pool was closed. Peeking through the fence, I saw about 6 people in the pool with a capacity of about 50. Puzzled, I went back to the receptionist.)

Me: Hi, I was just here asking about the pool. It is closed?

Receptionist: is it?

Me: Emm…The sign said it is closed but I saw a few people in the pool.

Receptionist:  When we have a lot of walk-ins from the street like you, we have to close the pool so our guests can use it, not just outsiders. 

Then she abruptly turned away and started chatting with her colleagues behind her. At that point, I was tired from all the talking and walking in the heat and humidity. This is 12:15 pm on a Wednesday. The pool opens at 10am and closes at 6pm. Unless someone in the hotel organized a mass pool party, I seriously doubt the guest would all rush to use the pool from 12pm to 3pm. Granted, they might have more knowledge of pool usage then I do, so I made it a point to look in when I walked by (on my way to and from changing money. I never say I am a gracious loser..) at 2pm and 4pm. Sure enough, there were more people at 4pm, but only about 15. And the pool was closed to walk-ins the rest of the day. In fact, I was not sure if they actually opened it to walk-ins at all.

As mentioned, I went to change money, which is not a pleasant experience in Cuba especially if you are holding US dollars. They charge a 10% fee, then change the remainder at a rate of 0.96CUC for $1US. They also reject bills that are too old, have tear(s), or crumpled. You are pretty much at the mercy of the ladies (I guess that’s the eternal truth for men everywhere) working there. Oh, and they check passport every time too. (So you can loose both passport and money at the same time. But one thing about Havana: it is a relatively safe city.)

Of course, I realize how fortunate I am to be traveling and have the opportunity to do so many things. However, I also worked hard and saved up my money for this trip: I am paying for everything from my saving. Hence, I can appreciate hard work; I understand the importance of tips; that Havana depends on tourism; and the fact that I should help my fellow men and women the best I can. Yet, I don’t like to be treated like an atm (well, I do like the fact they are full of money). This also happened in Ecuador which completely turned me off (figuratively speaking…) and I spent much less time there than planned. Companies here openly discriminate against single backpackers, and fawn over tourists living in hotels. (Hotels offer everything: trips, bookings at restaurants, guided tours, etc. They pay the same price or less than single tourist, and I end up competing against hotels for reservations. And these are places/agency/restaurants recommended by Lonely planet, not some luxurious posh places.) Yet, they would also not hesitate to rip you off every chance they get; ask for tips, include service charges, or ask for handouts (pesos, home country currency, tshirt, watch, necklace so far). Coming from Colombia, I picked up the tendency to talk to everyone, but soon realize almost everyone here wants to sell me cigars, hotels, women, tours and restaurants. My friendliness has definitely gone way back down these few days. 

As I was planning my activities for the next few days, I finally pull out (heh) the mantra: go with the flow. I am lucky enough to be in Cuba at this historic time. Things will change, and I can always come back and hopefully discover how much better things become. My bad experience now simply paves the way for a much better return visit, for I am sure an open market will force improvements upon businesses. I should just apply when I have learned so far: be at peace; be at a place early, since things (and spaces) runs out; waiting is common; ignore people yelling “chino? Japon? Korean?”: they are mostly trying to get business; in fact, have low expectations. Lastly, spend as little as possible and conserve money: I don’t have a lot of cash. As time flows, I will hopefully forget the grating things and just remember the good. 

(I am actually starting to worry about Brazil. I want my trip to end on a good note. But it has been going slightlydownhill in Cuba. Just like sh.. I really want a spectacular end! Or maybe I will be sitting in the lotus position a lot, saying “Om” over and over…)

(PSA: No animal or human or living being or dead being or zombies were water boarded for this blog. I am against that policy.)

The Invisible Hand

8/25/15

   
    
    
    
    
 If  you have ever taken a microeconomics class, you will (hopefully, I guess it depends on if you were napping/texting/face booking/ twitting in class) know what supply and demand curves are. Some also call them the invisible hands (was that John Adams? I forever get the name wrong for some reason. That reason is because my long term memory sucks), and it regulates the “free” market. Of course, the professor would also have told you there are limitations to this model, and thus reality and model behave differently (such a nice excuse. If a doctor say that he can treat you, but the method he use only works on certain conditions…wait. I think that happens quite regularly too. Nvm). This forces guide the market to an equilibrium, where supply meets demand at an optimum price. When I got to Cuba, I realized how out of hand this can get when the government steps in and start to alter the market. 

I woke up feeling lazy, so I skipped my planned run (urgh, running in Havana is like exercising in a sauna, except the air is filled with exhaust, dust and grime. Quite the facial in the morning. Why does that sound dirty?!) and went straight to the Havana bus tours. For 5CUC, you can take the bus around town, hop on and hop off at various stop. It sounded great except the bus does not come very regularly and it take quite a while to get from one point to another (best start early). There were two places I wanted to see: The Plaza of Revolution with the giant facade on the ministry of interior of Che Guevara and of Camilo Cienfuegos; and the rich, ambassadors filled neighborhood of Miramar. I sat on a very full topless bus (sadly, no one was topless), and headed off into the city. 

The Plaza of Revolution was immerse. Planned by French urbanist Jean Claude Forestier, this place is now a huge monument for Jose Marti, a giant parking lot that does not see many cars, and two concrete buildings. The North building is, of course, the ministry of interior with Che’s famous face on it, with the words “hasta la Victoria siempre” under. The adjacent building has the face of Camilo and the words “Vas Bien Fidel”. It was said Camilo, who was killed early in the revolution, said those words to Fidel during a speech when Fidel turned around and ask Camilo “Voy Bien Camilo?”. (Seems like the speaker was a little distracted to me…)

At the rich neighborhood of Miramar, I was again all ready to get off the bus until i realized there was not much there except very expensive restaurants and stores. With money, I decided to head back to the old town and grab lunch. When I arrived, the restaurant was mostly empty and I was about to sit when a waiter came and told me the table was reserved. He then led me to (maybe) the manager, who flipped through his handwritten book and said I could sit outside. (I also learned that hotels actually make reservation for their guests at some good and affordable restaurants.) The food was ok, buy the portions were huge. For lunch, I got a salad, a main course (pork and friend banana chips) with a full cup of rice and a full cup of beans (they love the beans and rice combo here)- but no drink or dessert. When I was eating, quite a lot tourists passed by and wanted to have lunch, but were all turned away because they had no reservation. What made me realize how screwed the situation really was happened when a young couple wanted lunch and then promised they eat fast. The manager looked through the book again, grudgingly gave them a table, but said they must finish eating in…an hour!( I am sure if Gordon Ramsey were there, he would have thrown a fit.) Yes, all the tables were reserved: but with no turnover. Each table was reserved to expect one set of guests for lunch from 12pm to 3pm. 

After that, I went to a tour agency to inquire about an architecture tour. Having done many tours in many countries, I received the weirdest answer so far. They had no tour guides available tomorrow, and was not sure if they would have enough the day after. All their also 20-30 guides are working everyday, but they cannot book me a tour the day after. I must go to the agency early tomorrow morning to see if any tour is available the next day. They do not know what your is available, nor can they make a reservation except for the next day. It was the strangest explanation until I caught the subtle implication: they do big group tours. Since I was alone, they will only place me in a group, if there is space. (Such irony: both the restaurant and the agency were recommended in Loney Planet Cuba.) I said thanks, and went off to do more exploring, listened to a live bass band, and ate some fruits for dinner.

As I sat in my room typing this, I realized my mistake (that Nick mentioned too): I should not have gone the backpacker route in Cuba. For the prices, I could have book a hotel, planned everything and paid for all in advance, freeing my cash and my schedule. The tourist industry here caters to tourists: the holiday kind, not the backpacking kind. This is mostly because the economy is so strictly controlled that market forces are not working. The bad services, low turnover, lack of management, and much more do not cause adverse effects. No one looses their jobs, the company does not need to make profit to stay alive, and restaurants do not need to be profitable. This caused a weird scenario where instead of competing for your business, they can wait for you to go to them (or leave) because your have no choice. Compound that with a lack of modern comforts, it makes backpacking a little more than interesting and unusual. I had a discussion with someone who visited Cuba before and he said that allowing US trade will not change Cuba, because Cuba already has a well established economy. I am not sure how the governments will react, but if the market does open up (like China did), it will likely turn the industries here upside down. When MacDonald’s start training their employees, when Starbucks start selling lattes in to-go cups (which they don’t use here) in an air conditioned room, things will definitely move. Competition, after all, brings innovations. We have all experience survival of the fittest. cruel, but it does produce results.

(Or the markets will be so controlled that nothing can change. Being in Cuba, I think massive changes are needed, if Cuba wants to compete with the rest of the world. If not, this population may never reach the world stage, and this island is too beautiful, the population too important for that to happen.)

 

The Art of Engineering

The Art of Engineering

    

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

   
   
5Sometimes I think I am a pessimist (wait a min, I think I had already used that opening yesterday…), not that there is anything wrong with being a pessimist. I would like to think I am more realist, and that the world moves on, regardless of how you want it to be. Being in the land of Cuba is a confusing on many levels. It magically transport (ok, the plane is not magic, but a equipment born out of the principles of air pressure and lift, the benulli principle) you to a land from yesteryears (more like the 70s and 80s; not Jurassic age), but with a twist: some modern technology and fashion. However, seen through an engineer’s eye, this place is a dangerous. The streets are in dire need of repair, the buildings need retrofitting or be torn down, and communication channels (cell phones, Internet, wifi. This is one of the few places that people still use a phone booth) needs desperate updates. Some people scoff and say they prefer less development and love the rustic old world charm. I am all for less development, but if a place is already developed and teeming with people then it is our job (well, I mean humanity in general) to make sure they have a safe place to continue their existence.

Since I did the old town yesterday (does that sound dirty to you? No?), I wanted to visit the newer part of Havana: El Vedado. This area is definitely more westernized, with streets in a grid pattern, and named alphabetically (a little similar to NYC or parts of Bogota). It also has the cheapest food, area where I can buy internet card, and the massive ice cream parlor that is one city square block large. There are also two famous hotels: the Hotel Havana Libre and The National Hotel. I had a quick lunch at Cafe TV: a movie themed restaurant that serves really good and cheap food; albeit with really strong attitude from my waitress. For a 4 CUC meal that came with a choice of beverage (beer!) and ice cream, I guess it was worth the icy reception (see what I did there?!). 

Hotel Havana Libre (formerly known as Havana Hilton) is a famous landmark. It is where lots of young people gather to use the paid Internet, and it is also at a very busy intersection. Actually, it was famous for being the temporary home of Fidel Castro when he marched into Havana and commandeered the hotels as his base in 1959. There are some old photos on the mezzanine level that documented this event. Also, it houses several shops and 24 hours eateries (I really wish I had chosen to live in this neighborhood. It definitely has more things to offer in terms of amenities). I spent a little time soaking in the atmosphere and the cool air from the air conditioning, before heading out to eat (more) ice cream. (Hey, it is hot and I need milk. In the frozen form. Quit judging…)

2 hours later (the wait in line was an hour and the wait to order and eat took another hour. For cheapskates like me, note: the line is for locals usually and cost 1MN a scoop. They also only offered us one favor: strawberry. One family from Spain got really upset they did not offer chocolate, and the waitress actually laughed at them…), I walked down to the Hotel National. It is a copy of the Breakers Hotel in Palm Beach, FL; and it is quite the sight (it is on many postcards in Havana). In 1938, when Bastista’s coup happened, 300 officers escaped there to seek refuge with the American ambassador- who promptly exited the building (sigh). 14 were shot instantly, with the rest executed later. At a later date, Mobster Meyer Lanksy also hosted the biggest gathering of North American Mafia here in 1946 (that must have been quite the gathering. Bet they did not fade to black at the end. Ah, useless TV reference). Walking through the beautiful atrium to the open air bar and lounge, I could get a full view of the Malecon. Wanting to save money, I skipped the drinks and food and opted to walk back instead. I had dinner at Sloppy Joe’s, another famous establishment (bar) that was demolished but recently rebuilt. The beer was cold and the food was ok, so I guess the day ended on a moderately positive note (remember: pessimist).     

At the end of the day, I have to wonder: how is that The hotels are kept in moderately good shape but not the building where people actually reside? I guess many would say it has to do with the cost of rehabilitation and retrofitting, that it makes more sense to spend money on things that encourages tourism. And then some may ask: why are buildings and highways so expensive to construct/repair/retrofit? A simple reason: engineers have been refining and learning from experience, and we have been updating the codes and materials to ensure public safety. When you drive down a highway (well, at least the recently built ones), almost everything is regulated, planned, checked and approved. The signs, the signals, the lane width, the white stripes (and the paint), the rumple strips, the acceleration and deceleration lanes (width, length, material), the shoulders, the curbs, the manholes, the inlets, the grate on the inlet, the depth of pavement, the size of rocks used underneath the bitument, the weight limit, the height limit, the lengths, the widths, the paint material, the concrete used, the place cement came from (hehehe), the training of the workers; they are all specially designed and tested to ensure you have a chance of survival in case of accidents, or attempts to minimize the risk of accidents. Things change, people’s behavior shifts, and technology advances. The safety standards of yesteryears are no match for development. As a person who appreciate buildings, I also love photos of structures and houses that are decaying and dying. However, as an engineer, I also strongly oppose allowing people to live in these structures. Rustic and old world charm is awesome, but human safety should be paramount (no, no the movie company. I do like their logo though). No one should live on buildings that are not up to code. We  have a duty to preserve life as best as we can.

(Wow. That was a rant. I apologize, so many people have been harping on the “attractiveness” and “charm” of the buildings and roads here that made me a little off balance. Also, a lack of cold drinks, large ice coffees, money; the high heat and humidity may have caused some discomfort…where is an airconditioned coffee place where I need one?!)

Money and Money

8/23/15

   
    
    
    
   
Sometimes I think I am a pessimist. I tend to notice problems more than working parts (maybe I am just an engineer deep down after all). When I enter a new city, I tend to notice the negatives, and am not shy to be vocal about them (well, as not shy as an Asian can be). I like to think that someone should also give voice to a problem, but then again, maybe it is just because I like the sound of my own voice (it is quite melodious, I must say). Even before I landed in Cuba, I realized my mistake: I did not bring enough cash to make me feel comfortable. I ran out of time at the Bogota airport and did not manage to draw more money. It is now clear that the inability to draw money from atm is really causing me to hunker down and conserve cash. This means it is unlikely I can visit Santa Clara (the resting place of Che), and the beach town of Trinidad.

Since I went to the more “local” part of Havana yesterday, I decided to visit the more tourist part: Havana Vieja. This is the touristic central, with lots of westernized cafes, shops, and restaurants; all nestled in the historical squares, castles and colonial style buildings. Of course, it is also hotel central, and lots of luxurious hotel are concentrated here. I woke up, had breakfast, attempted unsuccessfully to be social with the owner of the casa (which is a little unusual. Most people told me the owner of their casa are super friendly, chats a lot, etc. Mine is just the opposite: the couple usually just smiles at me, but leaves me alone. It was a little unexpected, since I had thought living with locals meant a glimpse into their lives. So far, all I have seen were of the couple and others watching soap operas, talent shows and movies on a giant TV screen). 

I walked around the area taking pictures. If you love urban photos, Havana is full of great photo opportunities. Decaying buildings, giant cracks in pavements, collapsing monuments, and many more. Of course, this also meant you have to walk very carefully, especially in the night time since there are very limited street lighting. I walked to plaza Vieja, where everything is fully refurbished and restored, reminding me of Eastern Europe. There were lots of tourists in your groups all milling around the same area, trying to get similar photos. 

Here, I have to stand on the soap box. The people asking for money is relentless here. They follow you around, accost you in the most unlikely places. I was asked for “one peso” in supermarkets (when I was trying to find water), in squares, in restaurants, even next to a tree in a park. Not only did they ask for pesos, they also asked for your home country’s currency as souvenirs, and one guy even wanted my pendant (on a simple black string). By afternoon, I was really irritated with these antics. I think part of the reason is because of the dual currency system. With one CUC worth 25 MN, a beggar can get a lot of money if a tourist give them CUC. A slice of pizza is 10MN, a cup of juice is 3CUC, a shot of espresso is 1CUC. Doing the math, asking for one peso is actually quite a lot. However, the tourist restaurants charges western prices (15 CUC for lobsters, 8 CUC for personal pizza), which makes the whole situation very complicated. Personally, I changed my money into both CUC and MN, and I have noticed the price in MN is often cheaper (and better for bargaining). For example: an ice cream cone in a place charging CUC is usually 1CUC for 2 scoops. This sounds great until you realize the local shops only charge 5MN. I managed to get what they call ensalada (5 scoops) for prices between 5 to 10 MN. 

After walking around, I took a nap in the afternoon before heading out for dinner. Originally, I really wanted to try Dona Eutimia, and arrived there at 7pm. The restaurant (probably able to sit about 30-40) was deserted with only 2 patrons. However, when I asked to enter, they told me the restaurant was fully booked, and I could not enter without reservation. I was not sure if that was the case or it was because I was too sweaty and wearing only a tank top, but decided to just go to another restaurant. The 50% chicken I ordered was ok, but I think my diet is suffering from a lack of vegetables. (Actually, Cuba is the first country where I am popping a multivitamin everyday. This is because I usually eat breakfast- 2 eggs, 2 buns, fruit juice and coffee; a lunch consist of street food- at 20 MN, the a proper dinner around 5-10 CUC. Hopefully that allows me to have enough money to leave the country!)

I came back to the casa, greeting the owner who was watching tv, and headed back to my room and looked through my spending of the day. It is tough being on a budget, but a little tougher when there is no safety net. Maybe I am just focusing on the negatives of the situation, but I think I better keep the budget tight to be able to pay for food and lodging. After all, I can see less of Cuba now, but I need to eat and sleep, and sh…err…go to the bathroom, of course. With the impending opening of the market to U.S., it will be interesting to see how the local economy handles the situation. The dual currency system has to go, and I already heard they want to merge them. Hopefully, that will tap people for asking for one peso every time I stop to take a photo (which is often), and attempt to speak Japanese with me. 

(Where can I find a cheap but good salad: that has vegetables, not just potato or avocado or banana, in Havana?!!)