Most of the people I’ve met have been fairly conscious of
international relations, and particularly of Cuba’s strange place in the
international system. This is most
superficially borne out by most people’s reaction to when we tell them that
we’re Americans – the discussions we have always reflect the sort of peculiar
relationship that Cuba has with America. Other times, though, it’s run deeper
than that. A woman who lectured us on Cuban literature told us that even the major
Cuban book fair is in some ways totally determined by international politics.
The scope of Angola was a little limiting literarily, but it makes sense with
the increase of foreign direct investment from Angola in Cuba. She mentioned
that this was frustrating from a literary perspective, but ultimately makes
sense from the perspective of the fair as a government enterprise. In a
probably funnier case, I ended up getting into an argument about the roles of
US and Cuba in the international system with a girl at a bar. Off the bat, she
asked me whether I condoned the actions of the United States internationally
once I said I was from the States. It kind of reminded me of this line that
gets bizarrely parroted by more or less every Cuban we talk to It’s strange
because I guess there could also be an assumption that the US folks who come to
Cuba aren’t going to be rah-rah Bush and Reagan people, but it’s still kind of
strange.
I went to a comedy show at a local theater last week, and it
was just a completely strange experience. It was a sketch show based around two
prisoners and a prison guard – I only got maybe 40%, as they were talking at a
breakneck pace. Most surprising for me was that the plot incorporated blackface
as a substantial element. It was the first time I had to step back a little bit
from what I was seeing – it was the first time I was genuinely shocked at a
cultural difference in Cuba. Otherwise, though, the show felt very physically
oriented and based around slapstick, even while being substantially political.
The humor was very different from typical US humor, but still resonated with
the audience – and the political critique was pretty biting.
Before coming to Cuba, I got warned by a bunch of people
that most folks in other countries dressed to the nines every time they went
out, which is a shift from how I usually prepare from going out. As the kind of
guy who would probably wear gym shorts to a wedding, I definitely err on the
underdressed side of the equation. Not wanting to be totally out of place, I
threw on dress pants and a nice button-down the first time I went out – but I
was totally overdressed. Going out chic seems to be mostly jeans and a t-shirt.
Guys don’t wear shorts, but the style is almost aggressively middle to high-end
casual. I’m guessing it’s a result of the limitations on the economy – I
haven’t seen many formal tailors or suit shops – more than it is anything about
Cuban fashion, but it’s interesting how Cuba deviates from even other Latin
American countries in its approach to going out. Also, it totally works out to
my benefit, so I’m not complaining.
One of the things someone told me about Cuba before coming
was that there’s music everywhere. I initially shrugged this off because it
sounded like a poorly written tourism brochure for Havana, but there are
moments when it seems more true than not. Almost every time I’ve been at a bus
stop, someone is blaring music (mostly Rihanna) off of their cellphone, and
there’s a live band in pretty much every restaurant that could conceivably
appeal to tourists. When this most rung true, however, was a strange little
moment I had last weekend while running. I ran by a house where a big Cuban
jazz band was playing, and it was absolutely fantastic. The door was open, so I
tried to discreetly hide outside the doorframe. I actually got caught and
invited inside for coffee. Still the best music I’ve heard here, too – at 11 AM
on a Sunday in a residential neighborhood.
Most of the time on the major city buses, the drivers blast
extremely loud, heavily distorted nueva
trova or other standard Cuban music throughout the bus. For an idea of how
loud this is, it usually drowns out whatever I’m playing at full volume on my
iPod. Although I generally try to not listen to music when I’m just walking
around here to fully appreciate the environment anyways, having my eardrums
ruptured while riding the bus is a little obnoxious. The first sort of thing I
noticed coming off of this is that the general obnoxiousness of the music made
it even more striking that there was no music on any buses for the week
following Chavez’s death. The other was that the first music I noticed after
this week was maybe as bizarre a break from traditional Cuban music as you can
get. I guess I may have zoned it out,
but “Barbara Streisand” is a little jarring as the first English music I’d
heard on these buses at all.
Two of the best non-cafeteria restaurants I’ve been to were,
funnily enough, a sushi restaurant and an ambiguous “Arabic” restaurant – it
was called el Bedouin and was actually in a tent. The politics of the sushi
restaurant were apparently complicated. There was a sort of ambiguous legality
about having a sushi restaurant at all due to the restriction of the
consumption of luxury foods (like imported fish) by any one individual. As you
can imagine, this would make opening a sushi restaurant sort of a thorny
proposition. It was still absolutely delicious. I feel a little ridiculous
going to these sort of bizarre faux-foreign places – due to Cuban laws on
private ownership of businesses, none of these places can actually be owned by
anyone from the country in question who hasn’t become a citizen of Cuba – but
that these places exist and thrive is indicative of an interesting pluralism
even within Cuba’s cultural homogeneity.
Also, for reference, my break isn’t until next week, so I
haven’t gone swimming in the Bay of Pigs yet. I also feel totally ridiculous
about not realizing I was going to be the only one to submit to Avery on my
spring break plans. Lulzcity.
