In Search Of A Revolution
21st of May:
I studied the Cuban revolution quite a lot in sixth form (college/high school/gymnasiet/VGS), and I am therefore quite eager to see the important sites of the revolution, but first I went to Santiago, some two hours east of the Granma landing. It didn’t see any hard fighting, but it is Cuba’s second largest city, and was described very positively in the Lonely Planet.
As soon as we stepped out of our bus we were assaulted, assaulted by jinoteros (hustlers) trying to get us to their casa particular, or simply just trying to get us to use their taxi. Out of the crowd we chose the most reasonable and a very forward taxi driver, who didn’t mind stopping so that I could by a ticket; the following day I was headed to Bayamo, capital of the Granma province, named so after the boat Fidel and his soldiers landed in (in that province).
Lisa and I somewhat quickly discovered that there wasn’t much to Santiago, it didn’t look or feel particularly Cuban, just a dump of a city. Food is quite expensive, but at least it isn’t as hot as Habana. After quite a lot of looking, we found a place that suited our budget and taste buds, and it was absolute heaven, simply gorgeous sandwiches for next to no money, sharply followed by 650 CC (6,5 DL) of chocolate ice cream between us. After 30 minutes at a netcafe, where I mainly spent my time trying to post my last blog (La Habana), which felt like it took the time a slug takes to run a marathon (30 minutes?).
Being tired after a night in a bus, almost no matter how comfortable, is very normal, so a siesta at the casa was in order, after which we went out for a final dinner, when I was to take my bus to Bayamo, Lisa would already be on her way to Baracoa. The Lonely Planet mentioned a very good pizzeria, which also turned out to be inside a resort. I thought the pizza was quite expensive, but remembered that not only was it cheaper than in Denmark (everything is), it was actually cheaper than pizzas in Argentina, and the pizza was an absolute dream, Lisa had some pork chops, and can unfortunately not attest to just exactly how good that gourmet pizza was.
For dessert I felt that some ice cream was in order, so we walked to the other side of the street, but the only flavour left (ice cream at state run restaurants is buckets only), which I had never heard of (mammy), so instead I went for a tuna sandwich.
After the dessert, things got funny, we got a taxi for 3 CUC across town (very cheap), and went to a place called Casa de las Tradicionas, where a band was playing wonderful music, much in the style of Buena Vista Social Club, in fact they even played covers of their songs. There were 8 people in the band, and just 6 spectators, but they played wonderfully. A bass player, a trumpeter, a drummer, a drummer/cowbell player (MORE COWBELL), a guitarist and 3 singers; the first playing with 2 sticks, the second a long tube with rills, which he would let a pen glide over, and the last a dancer, a man in his late 50′s with converse like shoes, big canvas trousers and a very colourful blue and red shirt, he was very funny, and had the best moves in this hemisphere (that’s better than Michael Jackson). Instead of simply tipping them, I bought their CD, which came to the same amount as what I wanted to tip.
22nd of May:
Damned early morning, my bus wasn’t till 9 o’clock, but Lisa was leaving at 7.35, so I came along to save money on the taxi, and to give a proper goodbye. The milk at the breakfast was outright repulsive (first milk I have had on my travels), but the eggs were very tasty, so with a good stomach we climbed into a taxi and went to the terminal, checked in our luggage and waited. Lisa and I said goodbye, and some time after she had left, I thought to myself “wait a bugger”, my luggage checked in for Bayamo, had gone on her bus to Baracao, so I raised the alarm, and with flailing arms, I alerted the employees to their mistake.
A search and rescue operation was set in motion, all the stops where the bus would about be at, were called. The rucksack was located and dropped off. The initial plan was for me to go to Bayamo, and pick it up there at 17 o’clock, but they could see that didn’t please me, so a jinotero went off on a motorbike, and relayed my bag to a different bus headed in my direction (he couldn’t take it all the way on a motorbike), so about 2 minutes before my bus was to leave (it was being held for me), another bus rolled in, and brought me my bag; it was such a relief, not having to be claiming my rucksack all around Cuba, lacking my stuff. I had to pay 10 CUC for the extra service, but the jinotero had actually been rather kind, so I just accepted it.
In Bayamo one of the jinoteros knew my name, turns out that when the casa owning lady in Santiago de Cuba, had asked me if I was interested in some accommodation in Bayamo, she had called ahead and told them I was coming. So I got a lift on a bicitaxi, which is a giant tricycle with two seats and some floor space (for my rucksack). They aren’t allowed to take tourists, so in a place like Habana they are incredibly expensive for tourists, the driver charges more for the risk, and because tourists do it as a novelty. Here there is no risk, and it is the dominant form of taxi around.
I arrived and was in awe, the place (the casa, not Bayamo) was gorgeous and luxurious, the shower was fantastic and nothing lacked, I was sure it would cost a fortune, but the lady in Santiago de Cuba had told me it would be cheap, and if otherwise she would be the first Cuban to lie to me.
I had come to Bayamo to visit “Comandancia La Plata”, Fidel Castro’s rebel headquarters during the revolution, the main problem is getting there (no public transport), whether or not it will be open (intermittently) and getting back on the same day (still, no public transport). I went to a travel agency to try and get some more information, and by a miracle, they could arrange an excursion, by taxi both ways (50 km on shoddy roads), a jeep up Cuba’s steepest road (climbs 800 meters in a distance of 5 km) and the necessary guide for the tour (illegal and impossible without), for a total price of 100 USD. And considering how important it is to me, I accepted without hesitation.
The rest of the day I wandered around Bayamo and ate quite a lot of ice creams (you can get 48 ice creams for what is equivalent to one dollar), which were just damn good, they had only two flavours, chocolate and strawberry, and they both just blew me away. Unfortunately, there isn’t much to see in Bayamo, it looks like any South American city, just a lot more prosperous. I only had CUC (peso convertible) on me, and the price of the ice cream was in peso nacional; so the first time round, I just tried to pay with my smallest coin, 25 centamos (roughly 25 US cents), or what is equivalent to 12 ice creams, and I was only trying to buy two. The saleslady refused to take my coin, and gave me two ice creams for free, one of the reasons why I kept coming back, as soon as I had traded some money from CUC to pesos nacionales.
Back at my casa, I took a nap which ended up taking several hours, and when I awoke, it was dark and I was starving (it was 20 o’clock), so I went out for dinner, and then noticed the culinary disaster that is Bayamo. I walked for ages and in the end found 3 places. One that wouldn’t accept me on account of my shorts, one that charged 20 CUC for a small piece of meat (outrageous price) and a vegetarian place which was out of pasta. I went for the veggie place, and had some huge fruit cut in slices and fried, the taste wasn’t all that bad, but a wafer would have filled me more, so I looked in my Lonely Planet, and decided for a little walk to a place some distance away, but I really needed food. I went there and had a fish, which was much more tasty, much more filling and came with decent rice and black beans.
23rd of May: Comandancia La Plata
Early morning, I was to catch a taxi to Villa Santa Domingo, to go visit Comandancia La Plata, Fidel’s wartime headquarter from 1957 to 1959, something I had come a long way (and paid a good deal of money) for. A taxi picked me up at 7.45 and took me the 1 hour and 15 minutes to Villa Santa Domingo, where I had a tiny breakfast, a 2 egg omelet with 2 crackers, as that was all they had.
I then met Mino, my guide for the trip, as it is illegal to go alone, however unlike as the Lonely Planet writes (it has changed very recently), it is legal to bring a camera into the area, for a beefy fee of 5 CUC.
The tour was started by an uphill struggle in a 4×4, the road at it’s steepest rises with a 40° inclination, it is as steep as a black skiing run, except you are going upwards, with the driver trying to dodge the giant rocks that have fallen down on the road. Once at the top, there is a 3 km hike through cloud forest, it isn’t hard, just on occasion it can get a bit steep. About halfway, there is a small village for people working at Comandancia La Plata, maintaining it, and the place is just full of solar panels and satellite dishes, I noticed that besides having them for phones, they are also equipped with internet, a rarity even i Habana.
The first revolutionary hut, is the outlook, and Che’s medical treatment post, it is a simple straw house, some distance beyond that is a museum, with assorted artifacts and a lot of pictures from the old days. But that is just the warm-up for the actual thing. The first thing really to be seen, is a tree that Fidel would use for target practice, and which is still riddled with bullets, the poor tree. Immediately beyond that, is Fidel’s house, with a phantom door, which when opened reveals his living quarters, along with his fridge that has a bullethole in it and his writing desk, in the adjacent room is his bed and library (he read a lot, even during the revolution).
Further on from his house is his personal toilet, where the revolutionary leader could have some… Personal time. Further on is the building in which Fidel Castro drafted and wrote the final, initial constitution and declaration of a “new” nation. There are several other buildings surrounded which was used as accommodation for the troops under Fidel.
The trip back brought us out in front of the outlook post, and the trip back was exactly the same as coming in, no big surprise, the visit had been like Easter Island, just like standing next to those statues gave of a feeling of something special, something unique, visiting that place (Comandancia La Plata), there was something special, something unique about it. It was without a seconds hesitation worth it, I absolutely loved to visit the place; and my guide Mino was something special, he described everything in wonderful detail, gave great attention, and was thoroughly interested in my camera, as he was planning to buy a digital camera this June. His intention was to buy a Panasonic camera with a 12x optical Leica lens, a Zf-51 or so, and have it shipped from Germany to here, he had been saving up for the past 9 years; so because he had been such a great guide, I gave him a fairly handsome tip, so that I could help him take pictures of his 4 grandchildren and his one young child. Did I mention that he only speaks Spanish?
Back in Villa Santa Domingo (having gone down that harrowing road), I was told that my taxi driver had buggered off and traded me off to another driver, who would be waiting for a group of Americans that we leaving about 2,5 hours later, so no ice cream for me, as I was planning to leave on that same day for Camagüey. I ate some mentally expensive lunch (I was starving), and sat down to wait around. After about 2 hours, an American and a Brit cam tumbling in, they weren’t the ones I was waiting for, but on account of my taxi voucher saying “3″ under turistas, I offered them a ride, and together we waited for the taxi. When it came in, we went to the driver, and told him that the three of us wanted to go; he at first would only take me, but we soon got him turned around, and were off. I imagine another taxi would take the American group, but I have no idea.
We arrived in Bayamo, just so that I had enough time to go to my casa, check out (it came to 15 CUC, hilariously cheap, considering the luxurious place that it was), go back to the terminal, eat an ice cream, and board the bus, where I discovered that the American and the Brit had paid me ticket, as I had refused to let them pay for their share of the taxi (I would just have gone alone otherwise).
Somewhere along the trip we stopped for 45 minutes in a tiny town, still hungry, I set about trying to find some food. There was a small restaurant next to the busstop, it was outrageously expensive, so I tried to find somewhere else. Being unable to find anything, I wondered why such an expensive place would look a bit crummy and be next to a busstation, although the latter might explain the price; but that wouldn’t explain why only Cubans were eating there, a fried chicken cost 15 or 20 CUC. So I went back in to make sure the price was in CUC, which it wasn’t, it was in peso nacionales, so the prices were cut to about 4% (96% discount) or more accurately, the price was cut by 1/24; so I had a giant meal for about 1,5 dollars, even cheaper than Bolivia, hard to believe.
Onwards on the trip, I finished Wild Swans, something I had very much been fearing, I absolutely worship the book, and when I finish books that I worship, I always feel empty inside, and I miss reading the fantastic books. Wild Swans is a unique first, second and third hand account of an incredible change in a country, it offered a personal view from experience, of something that I have endlessly toiled over in classrooms and by reading dusty history books; it is not a replacement, but a deeper understanding, and a very important book to read.
I arrived rather late (23), took a taxi to a casa particular, and had my own little crash course in just falling asleep, there was nothing to do this late, not even as I felt a bit hungry.
This entry was posted on Saturday, May 24th, 2008 at 15:53. It is filed under Cuba.
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