Cuba Day 3: Bring Home The Bacon; Battening Down The Hatches

This is Day 3 in a memorable series of adventures in search of his ancestral "roots" in Habana Cuba as told by guest writer George Roqueni; to read the first parts of his story see the following links:

http://brockbajer.blogspot.com/2011/11/dear-fellow-voyagers-part-1a.html
http://brockbajer.blogspot.com/2011/11/dear-fellow-voyagers-part-1b.html

http://brockbajer.blogspot.com/2011/11/cuba-day-2-money-exchange-and-shopping.html

A statuesque Don Quixote shops for produce

Dear Fellow Voyagers,

Today, the plan involved buying vegetables. Yesterday I discovered that supermarkets here don’t sell vegetables. You must go to a vegetable market and pay in Cuban Pesos. So I gave Jorge some CUC’s which he had to convert into Pesos. This family currently does not have transportation so almost all transactions involve walking. You’ll see many, many people walking in the streets which are the primary method of locomotion. There is no light rail whatsoever. Most people take the bus and you’ll see New Year’s Eve in Times Square type crowds at most bus stops. Passengers aboard these buses are daily packed like sardines at intensity typical of the NYC subway during the height of the rush hour.

"More Revolution" " Better Socialism"

Jorge returned with the vegetables. Then at 9:23 am there was a power outage. The buzz about the approaching tropical storm intensified and the candles came out. This household does not have any flashlights or a portable radio. When I asked when the power would be restored, I was told that sometimes people only commented that the power was on and not when it was off. We were incommunicado other than the landline phone.

An urgent call was placed to El Chino and he appeared with his 1974 Moskvich Russian vehicle which he affectionately calls “The Mostrosky.” Urgent plans were developed to buy non-perishable food stuffs and to do it quickly before there was a panicky run on the stores. This time Bertha and her wheelchair accompanied us on this shopping expedition. She didn’t want to miss any of the excitement and drama. Riding in a 37 year old car which was held together with mix and match parts, no shock absorbers and over streets which looked as if they had been destroyed by line mines is an experience not to be forgotten.

The Mostrosky and pit crew...

El Chino careened from side to side of the street in an attempt to avoid the larger pot holes. This bone rattling ride swerving back and forth to avoid the pedestrians walking in the streets could make your dental crowns come loose and make sure to bring some Dramamine. And remember there are no seat belts to prevent you from popping out the window. Air conditioning? What air conditioning! A tropical storm was on it's way and we were soaked in the humidity...

A store gets a spiffy paint job at ground level only

We arrived at the first supermarket. I was told that this one was “better” than the one visited yesterday. We’ll see. Bertha clutched her pocket book which was placed on her lap as we approached the store up the ramp in her wheel chair. She was told that we wouldn’t be allowed into the market with that pocketbook in her lap. She didn’t believe me – “that’s ridiculous, that’s where I have my money.” After much pleading, we had to pry the pocketbook from her clutches and assure her that El Chino would watch over it while waiting in the Mostrosky.

We filled the shopping cart with non-perishable supplies and the quest for bacon continued. Aha, there was a slab but it had more fat than bacon meat. Let’s look for candles. No candles. We left this market and returned to The Mostrosky. There was a conference with El Chino, Olga and Pedro. Where could bacon be found?

Some buildings fared better than others over time

The owner of the 1953 Chevy Bellaire parked next to us, upon hearing of our dilemma, offered where possibly we might find bacon. Then he said, “The only thing you’ll find in THIS store -- is disrespect. The prices are outrageous.” I discovered that one of the characteristics of the Cubans is that they will offer their opinion and advice if they should overhear your conversation. This happens all the time – it’s a Cuban thing, for sure.

On to the next supermarket, more purchases and aha – there was one slab of bacon. We purchased it faster than the speed of light. Let’s go home to prepare for the tropical storm.



Welcome home...where's the bacon?
 (Niurka and Maytee)

Cuban factoid: Eighty percent of the cars in Cuba are illegal. Why is that?

There is much here to make every moment memorable.

George

Laughter is the music of the soul.



"Liberty Can't Be Blocked" "Here There's No Fear"

Cuba Day #2 - The Money Exchange & Shopping Spree October 25, 2011

This is Day 2 in a memorable series of adventures in search of his ancestral "roots" as told by guest writer George Roqueni; to read the first parts of his story see the following links:
http://brockbajer.blogspot.com/2011/11/dear-fellow-voyagers-part-1a.html
http://brockbajer.blogspot.com/2011/11/dear-fellow-voyagers-part-1b.html

Dear Fellow Voyagers:

Bertha and I are carrying a lot of cash as American credit cards are not used in Cuba.  Bertha’s has cash and goods which are slated to be given, as a favor, to various people from their relatives in Miami.   I’m using a money belt for the first time in my life.  Today’s assignment is to convert my US dollars to Pesos Convertibles (CUC’s) and to find a safety deposit box for all this cash.  Bertha is very nervous that something will happen before we get to distribute all this cash to various people.

Since Pedro’s 1952 Chevrolet became inoperable over one year ago and with no money for repairs, he made arrangements to find transportation and at the same time, someone who would exchange US dollars to CUC’s at a more favorable 7% rate as compared to the bank’s 14% rate.  Enrique Lee (El Chino) appeared in his 1974 Moskvich Russian vehicle to take us to the location for the exchange.

You know how one reflexively reaches to affix the seat belt after sitting in the car. Well, here there are no seat belts on these old vehicles. I’m going to lose the seat belt reflex pretty soon.  Then, he drove us to the largest and most prestigious bank in Habana where I attempted to rent a safety deposit box.  Yes, at one time they had them, but the government abolished them a few years ago.  No, no other bank has them now.  Then I decided to go to some of the very large tourist hotels which until very recently, Cubans were forbidden to enter.  Yes they had them but only in each room so you had to be a registered guest.  Well, so much for a safety deposit box.  Bertha will have to continue sleeping with her money bag under her pillow.

Our next destination was their “super market” touted as one of the largest and most complete in Habana.  At this market you pay in CUC’s and is considered to be an expensive place to shop.  They have more products than the other markets run by the government where you pay in Pesos.  Before entering the market you had to check in your bags and pocketbooks at a service counter located outside the market.  You are only allowed to carry in a wallet, that’s it.  It was very strange not seeing any American products.  Everything was in scarce supply, empty shelves and the displays and counters were somewhat dog-eared.  I wanted to buy bacon, a rarity here, and the guy behind the counter solemnly shook his head from side-to-side indicating that they had bacon but “it was not good.”  There is no deli counter; such things are rarer than hen’s teeth here in Cuba.  When you check out at the cashier, there is a scanning device but no accumulated total displayed so that periodically the cashier will announce what amount you are up to and asks if you want to continue.  Apparently, many people stop when they find that they don’t have enough money. The security guards check your purchases as you exit, a la Costco.

No Waiting Here

After this shopping was done, I asked to be taken to a fancy-ass bakery and pastry shop.  I was taken to “one of the best” places, state owned, where you pay in Pesos.  I purchased four boxes filled with assorted pastries for $3.95 Pesos or what would be 50 cents in US money.  So much for my bakery shopping spree.

There’s a tropical storm brewing now in the Gulf of Mexico which may affect Cuba.  Everyone here is braced for some storm action. At this household there are plans afoot to buy food and supplies right away because as the storm approaches people will begin to panic and what little is available in the markets will completely disappear.



This building has a meat market, a vegetable market and 2 families live on the second floor.

Another element which helps to make every moment memorable.

George

Laughter is the music of the soul.

"Dear Fellow Voyagers..." Part 1b

Dear Fellow Voyagers: Part 1b
by George Roqueni
Note: To start at the beginning read Part 1a first:
 http://brockbajer.blogspot.com/2011/11/dear-fellow-voyagers-part-1a.html


Arrival at Goss 154, entre Libertad y Johnson, Santo Suarez

The arrangement we made originally was to stay at the home of Pedro and Olga for the first two days. We did this because our visa application stated the reason for the trip was to visit family in La Habana. Once we made the application, the Cuban authorities actually went to the home of Pedro and Olga to verify that we were family and the exact nature of our relationship. We were not visiting as “tourists” because this is not permitted by the US government as a result of the US economic embargo. The Cubans refer to this as El Bloqueo (the blockade).

The Ruiz house: our temporary home

After two days, the plan was to move into one of the historic mansions in the oldest part of Habana (la Habana vieja) which have been converted into small hotels. These small hotels have all the early 19th century colonial architecture and many with period furniture. They have been beautifully restored as has most of the historic district but the rest of the city’s infrastructure: buildings and streets, are literally crumbling.

Our accommodations

Our gracious hosts made great efforts to accommodate us. They moved furniture from what had been used as an office on the first floor, painted it and the adjoining bathroom and built closets to accommodate our belongings. Since Bertha cannot climb stairs the upstairs bedrooms were out of the question. 

Let me tell you about our host family. Olga is 67 years old and niece to Bertha’s deceased husband. Her husband of 42 year is Pedro, age 62 who was in the military for many years and now retired. Pedro is well respected (and feared) because of his connection to the military and government. Bertha takes comfort that we are “well protected” because of Pedro’s background and government connections.

Living in the same house are two grand children, Daniel, age 19 and Pedro (junior) age 9, both are children of Maytee, age 38, our hosts’ daughter, and Jorge her spouse. Also nearby in the neighborhood is Niurka, 41 year old daughter who is twice divorced without children and now single living alone. She works for the Cuban postal service.

Bertha, Olga, Pedro Jr., Niurka, Pedro Sr.

Maytee, (the mother of the two children) has a doctorate in Optometry (obtained after six years of study – all education is provided free to every citizen) and is visiting for one month’s vacation from her assignment as a doctor in rural Venezuela. She took a two year government assignment in Venezuela in order to increase her salary to support her family.

Maytee is the only person in this household who has a job. Jorge her spouse is a computer networking specialist. He is unemployed and was recently laid off after 12 years of employment with the same company. Daniel, the 19 year old is also unemployed after losing his job as a security guard at one of the tourist hotels. The unemployment rate in Cuba is at least 30%. Those who are employed by the government are paid in Pesos. For example, Niurka who works fulltime for the government postal service and the only one who has an e-mail address as a result of her government job earns 200 Pesos per month or the equivalent of 8.33 CUC’s or $7.16 in US dollars. Maytee, who chose to leave her family to go on assignment to Venezuela (in a dangerous rural community approximately 10 miles from the Columbian border – I’ll tell you later about the 60+ bodies found in the streets each and every week) so that she could raise her salary from 15 to 120 CUC’s monthly, or to $103.80 US dollars. She has to pay all her own housing and food expenses. She is the only source of regular income for this entire extended family.

Pedro, Pedro Jr., Bertha, Maytee, Jorge, Daniel, Niurka, and Olga

Their economic situation is dire. All family units have a food ration book (La Libreta). Olga proffered La Libreta and explained the system. I was shocked and amazed. The amount of food rationed monthly, which is paid for in Pesos at a government store, is barely enough to cover one week of nutrition for this entire family. Tremendous effort and time is expended every day just for simple survival. Even when there is money available, many times food and goods cannot be found. When shopping, it is necessary to go from store to store just to find what is available. All this accomplished on foot or by bus transportation. This has been going on for over 50 years with little major improvements. All this is as the result of “El Bloqueo.”



A Memorable Man in a memorable time and place

You have absolutely no idea what a blessing it is to live in the United States of America.

This comparison is making every moment memorable.

George

End of Part 1b, please see Part 2.


George will continue his story as Brock Ba'jer's newest guest author: a Memorable Man.

"Dear Fellow Voyagers..." Part 1a



Author George Roqueni and Bertha

The next several posts come to you from the talented writer and traveler George Roqueni whom I met at Montrose Thieves Market as a fellow vendor. As a friend and fellow human I have shared wonderful adventures with George including the very near rental of an antiques store together (he owned Simply Unique Antiques in Silverlake) and his thought provoking observations of small towns like Sunland Tujunga and Silverlake, and large ones like his native New York. George is a sophisticated soul with life experiences that fill his readers with desire for adventures of their own. George is a world traveler, speaks multiple languages, is articulate, opinionated, empathetic and fearless. His writing embodies full screen views of worlds seldom seen. Here is his terribly compelling series of letters describing the search for his "roots" in Communist Cuba. Be sure to follow the story (multiple parts/posts) to its end...

Dear Fellow Voyagers: Part 1a
by George Roqueni

It’s been a long time since you’ve heard from me. Since my last missive sent to you many moons ago, I have been many places, seen many things, taken many photos and had many experiences. This trip is different as I write to you from Habana Cuba the day of my arrival here.

This is how this trip came into being. I’m traveling with my first cousin Bertha who is 93 years old. Her mom and mine were sisters. I’ve known Bertha for sixty years. She was born in Cuba in 1918, lived an upper middle class life and traveled the world. Bertha was pro-Fidel at the onset of the revolution but after a while became disenchanted with Communism. She always remained a strong Fidelista. There is a difference in Cuban culture and politics between loyalty to Fidel but not necessarily to communism. This is really a socialist state. Sometime later Carlos, her husband, became seriously ill, almost near death with a heart condition requiring open heart surgery. Because open heart surgery was not available in Cuba at that time, they traveled to Atlanta, Georgia where Carlos’ brother was a cardiologist and his wife an anesthesiologist. In their 50s Bertha and Carlos arrived in the USA in February 1969 to have life saving medical treatment and started a new life in the US.

Bertha and George: Happy Travelers

At that time of the post revolutionary fervor, if you left Cuba for any reason whatsoever, the state confiscated everything you owned. Bertha owned and managed a chain of beauty salons with over 20 employees, catering to the super rich and Carlos was the manager of the American owned B.F.Goodrich Tire Company. They had a ranch in the country, house in the fashionable part of Habana and a condo in the city. They arrived in the US with nothing other than the clothes in their back; all their possessions and accomplishments were left behind when they left Cuba.

Carlos died in 1999, at age 82 after a ten year bout with Alzheimer’s. Bertha took care of him at home; she did this alone without any assistance whatsoever. They never were on the public dole for anything. In 2005 she returned to Cuba for the first time, 36 years after her original departure, to visit the one and only relative who remained alive, her aunt Idelia who was very ill and close to death. Bertha was 87 years old at that time and made the journey to Cuba alone. In 2008 she again went to Cuba, traveling alone; she was 90. She went to visit her husband’s niece Olga, who inherited the house of Bertha’s in-laws and the very place she and her husband Carlos visited and stayed when she lived in Cuba.

First view of Cuba...

Now at 93, Bertha told me that she could no long travel unaccompanied so I decided to take her, accompany her and protect her. She wanted to say goodbye to whoever remained and to explore the possibility of reclaiming her house which she lost when she fled Cuba. She wanted to guide me so that I could connect to my ancestry. Recent changes earlier this year in Cuban laws now allows the personal ownership of a home and the ability to buy or sell one; something which was never permitted previously.

My journey began Sunday October 23 when I left NY and flew to Miami to the home of Bertha. Then early Monday morning, Bertha and I with the appropriate visas in hand, left on a chartered flight to Jose Marti Airport in Habana, Cuba. The adventure began.

We landed in Jose Marti airport and ran the gauntlet of immigration, customs and the health department. Immigration checks your visa, ask questions about the purpose of your visit and who you are visiting – the specific name and address and take your photograph. Customs asks what you are bringing into the country and passes you through the same screening as happen with the TSA except you don’t have to take your shoes off. The health department wants to know if you have any communicable diseases or if you have been with anyone who has. You’ll see these very cute cocker spaniel dogs running around the luggage claim area. Don’t call to them or pet them. They are drug sniffing dogs trained to sit quietly next to you when they smell drugs even the smallest amount inadvertently forgotten pot residue at the bottom of your pocketbook.



Bertha, awaiting interrogation...

Finally, your luggage is weighed because you are allowed to bring into Cuba 66 pounds. Anything over that, the Cuban government charges a tariff per pound unless your plastic wrapped luggage is marked “food and medicines” (which I managed to do when I discovered this from others at the terminal, on one parcel before leaving Miami) in which case it is not weighed. After weighing, you are directed to the cashier to pay the fees which are to be paid in Pesos Convertibles (CUC) which is different from the regular Cuban money which is Pesos. There are two types of money in circulation in Cuba.

Of course, the weighing staff was very solicitous after receiving a tip handed to them unobtrusively. After much hushed consultations with someone who appeared to be a supervisor, our luggage was not even weighed so we slipped through without paying any fees even though I know we were way over the 66 pound limit. In addition, we were not forced to go to the money exchange to covert US dollars to Pesos Convertibles (CUC’s) at an exorbitant exchange rate in order to pay the weight tariff. Finally we emerged from the airport terminal into the loving embrace of Bertha’s pseudo niece Olga who greeted me with “Welcome to Cuba” in somewhat heavily accented English. We had finally arrived in Cuba.

Everything which happened made every moment memorable.

George

End of Part 1a; to continue the adventure read Part 1b:
http://brockbajer.blogspot.com/2011/11/dear-fellow-voyagers-part-1b.html