Arriving in Cuba 🇨🇺

We actually made it up and early to the International Check-in desk. There we got out tourist-cards and flight passes. It was dark until the plane took off. Not a full flight. We saw the movie “Chocolate” which they played over the water and right up through landing, up to the taxiing at the gate and unloading. Pretty unusual and a first for me.

Boyfriend and I were happy to have made it. We sweated a bit going into the immigration boxes. He went first and asked her not to stamp his. She looked at him like he was a dumb-ass and took her sweet time. When I went to her, she had a compadre and looked mean. I asked her, “Please, pero no stamp.” She scoured with an all controlling eye and went about her job.

As soon as she contacted my eyes, I was pleading in meinen Augen with all my might, for her not to stamp my passport and alter the course of my history. I was already wondering how I would be able to inconspicuously tear a page out of my book. Then after scanning, punching, lasering and stamping, she gave it back to me, unscathed – and on top of it, wished me a good day, in English.

Stepping out into the humid, warm Cuban air, we caught a taxi to take us to the Hotel Riviera. It was a crazy culture shock, seeing the huge green palms swaying in the breeze, some cyclists and loads of lingering hitchhikers – even police hitchhiking although they call it something different. We drove through the farm, rural outskirts of Habana, working our way down wide boulevards in the street city and on to the hotel situated on the waterfront boulevard called the Malécon.

There was a festival going on at the beach we saw at 10:30 a.m. Feeling exhausted we went up to the room with a decent sea view/ pool view, where we proceeded to shower and nap again. It was a great peaceful relaxing nap, now that we were finally here. We were happy to be here and relaxing together in bed, hearing the poolside music blast, which sufficed for a beach concert at the time.

We got ready and as soon as we walked out along the Malécon we were approached within 30 seconds by two young experienced street urchins wanting to talk to us about M & M and some other rap master; about their paladen or privately owned restaurant where we could get lobster 🦞 for only $15 and more and more.

Somehow at a point we saw it was going nowhere good, so we took our leave creativity, but awkwardly and he asked boyfriend for a buck. That was our first encounter. They told us their names too. One was Rudy.

Continuing on down the 12 Avenida, a wide boulevard with houses colonial and grand, grande too. Great scenery. The further we walked, the blacker the sky became and gustier the wind. Pretty soon we were caught in a Habana Terrace Café waiting for the downpour to subside.

We were pleasured to hear some B.V.S. Club music 🎶 as we waited out the storm, watching old Chevy’s drive by and feeling happy as we waited in each other’s arms.

Cemetario de Colón

When it cleared, we trodded on through the puddles to the Cemetario de Colón. After having read that it closed at 17:00, we figured we couldn’t get in, but some guard out front kept waving and signaling us over. Finally just as we were about to go backward ho, we looked at each other and decided to check things out.

It turned out that the guy wanted to be- and very well was- our guide. We paid to get in first about $3 each, and then paid him at the end $10. He willingly and happily, albeit drunkenly showed us all the notable graves, and even the explanations so we could understand him, mas or minus (more or less).

We saw Cespedes; Milagrossa miracle lady and baby whose grave gets the most flowers of all; Martí family members; the vandalized sarcophagus’s; Domino Lady #1 players grave; Los bomberos the firefighters grave; and lots more. Meanwhile the mosquitoes were eating us alive.

After the unceremonious exiting and thanking in a mausoleum type tomb we paid him the customary high tip (after all he did swat the mosquitoes away from us too) and continued on our sweet way.

He was interesting though, telling us about his wife and two kids. Said that he knew what i wished for at La Milagrisa was to stay together for a long time with Arizona boyfriend and that boyfriend was wishing there for a child. Wanted to know if we were married or had kids, and even over being drunk and stopping to pee, kept saying that over too. He said he could see I had eyes for boyfriend and wanted to be sure we understood him.

Once he showed us where there were some poor people buried, like himself and that wouldn’t be interesting for us. Then his $10 tip gave him a month’s government wages. Maybe he isn’t so poor after all. And he was right about what I wished for.

We meandered back to the hotel, showered again and took a nice table at the bar overlooking the Malécon, and our two street buddies. (“Where did you study English?” “In school and on the streets.” O.K.)

We had our first two Motijas (Mojitas) I’m writing it wrong just to bug sweet boyfriend (because I think someone was pronouncing it that way). Then we headed over to the local corner restaurant Vasquez where we ate good “Spanish” food, did justice to a pitcher of Sangrias and boyfriend smoked his first Habana cigar to the tunes of “Cuatro de Tula.” A great night!

June 3 Sunday, 2001