dimanche 28 juin 2009

Vedado, mi barrio de la Habana




Monday Afternoon, Day 2 in La Habana. 22 June 2009

Is today the Equinox?

Whatever day it is, it s a hot day here in La habana. Only people who have been to Tropical Rain forests could understand the heat here. Todavia no es agosto.. and they recall that distant august when the dictator Machado was overthrown..

The departure of the Malagenas was as surreal as it could be. We brough down their luggage which could barely fit into the boot of the car but when the driver closed it and tried to open it, no way, it refused to budge.. all the while a caballo, a policeman on a motorcycle was watching the event with interested eyes. Here two foreigners with two huge bags and two carry on bags, obviously bound for the airport, the car in question is a lada so it being a taxi is out of question, and of course he could have asked awkward questions which would have put all of us on the defensive. But he was watching and didn’t meddle.

The neighbours bought whatever equipment they had and eventually some sat on the boot and moved it in every possible way and finally with the help of the screw driver, was ale to flinch it open. Now the bags had to go into the car rather than th eboot if the same experience confronted them at the airport.. so you can imagine, two spanish girls with their luggage huddling in the back of a Lada and their host sitting in front holding their hand luggage.. it was almost a scene from the movies, but each and every bit of life here is fit enough for the movies.. this is the most surrealist country..

As we were inspecting the car for damages, a friend of mine arrived and off we went to buy a bottle of Havana Cluba Rum.. tell me in which country they sell 50cl bottle of Rum, Anejo Blanco for under three dollars? Not everything is bad in this country..

Made contact with my cuban mother who would be in Montreal for a work related visit next month. My tansient life in various continents mean missing out on other travellers since I cannot be guaranteed to be anywhere except my usual locations scattered around the globe. I would have very much liked to have gone to Montreal and seen her, taken Morgan along, but for more than one reason, I am unable to.

A good friend of mine, whom I had known since my university days in La habana (not as a student but as a professor), and I began talking at around 10 am and we finished around 5 pm so that I can go and say hello to the departing malagenas.

Her son took the destiny which was not his and caught it, and it always comes at price.

She herself has suffered various deviations in her path, her bourgeoisie parents were not expecting a revolution in 1959 that were to change their lives. In her spacious apartment, I could think clearly with my head when I was hungry, perhaps the effect of ketones in my head but after the homecooked lunch, I could no longer think clearly with the head but could feel it in my heart.

The long conversation tired me, being a psychologist among the indians gives me energy but being a psychiatrist to the cubans takes away all my energy. People are between the devil and the deep blue sea, especially if they are venturing out of the ordinary. I will have to return tomorrow to her house to meet a high functionary of the health department as well as true metaphysical poet rebel.

It is 7 pm in Havana and it is still light outside. One full day without email and Internet, and once again disappearing into the lives of the cubans here. The world outside isnt here but we are here disconnected

11 pm. Today it was peaks and valleys with the hunger and eating and feeling drowsy in this heat. Now to retire and sleep

It was good to connect to Baracoa. It is amazing even after an absence of this magnitude, yourself or your imagined self exists in their imagination.

Manha sera outra dia… a nice song by Cesaria Evora comes to mind..

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