After a delicious omelet breakfast with a fruit platter and fresh-squeezed fruit drink, I discussed my plans with my host, Don Miguel. He asked, "What are your plans when you leave Havana?" He followed up with, "because if you take Viazul," (a long-distance coach service that basically only tourists take) "then you need to get tickets early. Once you have your tickets, the rest of your trip will be okay." This started to make me nervous, thinking about tickets being sold out. Sure, there are other options, like hiring a private taxi, but that can be more expensive and One of the unique challenges of travelling in Cuba is that you have to bring all the money you'll need; credit and debit cards generally don't work. So even though I brought some extra monetary padding on this trip, I really actually could run out of money.
Miguel gave me directions to a park a few blocks away, from which taxi colectivos depart. These act as an intermediate between private taxis and city buses, where the car (usually a vintage 1950s) loads up with strangers and goes on a fixed route. I arrived at the park but didnt know how to make arrangements, so I found a bench to sit on and observe others' transactions. During my stroll through the park a stray dog made friends with me, or tried to, anyway, probably because it could smell the omelet. Or tourist. Also some Jehovah's Witnesses tried to make friends, too. I was very nice and spoke a bit with them, though they looked clueless when I explained that I am a Mormón... maybe the church isn't well established here. It also didnt help that I explained in my nervous Spanish as the Church of Jesus Christ of the United States... apparently "Ultimos Dias" and "Estados Unidos" roll off my tongue the same.
Finally I made efforts to arrange a colectivo, but the drivers played dumb; they wanted the dumb tourist to pay private taxi fare. Well I wasnt interested in being knowingly duped at the moment (not while I had other options, anyway), so I asked about taking a city bus and thanked the taxi driver for his response and info.
Fortunately the city bus stopped in the same park square, so I queued up with the long line of locals. The last time i tried taking a latin american bus was in brazil with Bev, so I really had to fight the Portuguese when I asked another guy in line if the bus went to Fuente Illuminosa. He said yes, and they i kinda asked if he could help me pay. In Cuba, they have a two money system: the CUK and CUP (acronyms for somethings). One CUK equals one USD, and 24 CUP are in one CUK. Generally more expensive/foreigner things are in CUKs and more day-to-day/locals things are in CUPs. So while the taxi would have cost 5 CUKs, the bis cost one CUP.
Anyway as a foreigner, I didnt have any CUPs, which is part of the reason I asked the guy for help. It ended up being very useful because as the bus was filling up, he helped me.cut the line to get on (otherwise I wouldve been terribly embarrassed as a foreigner to cut). Then he found us some seats and made a bit of small talk. It turned out that he was somehow involved in a big boxing match between Cuba and Colombia tomorrow and invited me to check out the stadium. After we got off the bus, we walked a block to a big blue saucer that Id seen on the drive from the airport. It was kinda cool to have a behind-the-scenes tour of the stadium while it was being set up, which featured a poster of Che Guevera. He notified me of the starting time tomorrow and I thanked him, knowing that I likely wont attend. Well maybe I would for the experience but I wouldnt really know how to get home that late. (Later I also passed on ballet tickets so Im apparently being very much a dud). As I left, he gave me one of those grasping handshakes that Id seen him give a friend on the bus. So Id made friends with a non-dog, non-religiously motivated Cuban!
I departed the stadium and walked the roughly seven blocks along the wall of a zoo to the viazul station. I waited in a long line, to find that i had to wait in a different long line to.buy advance tickets. While in line I tried to make friends with another guy after he described the line logistics. "Está Cubano?" Yes, he nodded, but corrected "Eres Cubano." What an embarrassing Spanish 1 mistake. Usually I stick with "Nació en Havana?" which is mildly impressive Spanish 2, for knowledge of the verb and a past tense. Fortunately the next clerk called me up so I didn't have to try to compensate linguistically. And double fortunately they had all my tickets for the rest of the trip.
Somehow I found the proper bus to return to my part of Havana and experienced the most body contact with strangers since overcrowded mass transit in China. It takes just a bit of mental disconnect to reconcile sharing consistent body warmth with strangers.
Back in Old Havana, I started my walking tour. I found this experience interesting, as its tourist status means that it's in better condition. Though there were still plenty of concrete skeletons, more renovative work was being done, complete with plaster and paint from overhead work coming crashing down on the street. This was where the ballet theater was, but as they arent performing Swan Lake or any recognizable ballet, I decided not to risk the chance of falling asleep.
One of the cool buildings I toured was a Colonial Governor's Palace. A museum official stepped up and started explaining things in half and half, which gave the artifacts much more context. She showed me relics of past war heroes (lots of José Martí love) and described Cuba's wars for independence (she did leave out the last bit where Cuba ultimately got independence due to American interference, but whatevs). There was also a live peacock in the courtyard, which a nice museum lady told me is a "pavo real" and makes for a lovely Christmas feast. Well there you have it.
Among the tourist sites were street vendors, and one young woman sold what she called "cappuccino." Oddly enough, they arent coffee-based but have dulce de leche. She was all nice and the food (kinda a sweet, soft, cornmeal cone) was tasty, but then I realized that although I gave her CUKs, she gave me change in CUPs. That is, she gave me 1/24 the change she should have. I slightly upset and when I went back, I discovered that my basal foreign language is Chinese. Either that or I know more negotiating words in Mandarin because my petitions were peppered with Chinese. She appeared unrepentant and changed my change. It's probably a common scam. It is a shame because it taints a bit my impression of Cubans. But of course a population is complex and full of differences. I will just have to make sure to be more careful.
My walking tour ended a bit early (my book is sadly lacking in details), so I people watched at the parque de la fraternidad for a while until storm clouds came in and I found my way back to the CP. And yes, I had to FIND my way again. It's magical an like Narnia or the Room of Requirement. Despite having walked there three or four times, I still havent walked directly to the front door.
Oh and some girls made some kissing noises at me on the street, but those were some friends I /didn't/ want to make.
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