Go, Go, Fidel...I mean, Gaza?

It’s been a pretty busy week, once again. The most interesting of the events so far had to be the Pro-Palestine rally that we attended at the Universidad de la Habana. We arrived to find a good-sized crowd, and were eager to hear what sorts of things were being said. It went along the lines of this, “Go Cuba, go Fidel, go Raul, boo U.S….and oh yeah, Israel is evil for what they’re doing in Gaza, go Palestine”. So mostly it was a state-staged event that had a lot more to do with keeping patriotism up and putting down the evil Yanquis than it did with actually demonstrating solidarity with another people. I figure that most of the people there were also aware of the farce, because the majority of the students our age seemed more into socializing and eating popcorn than being inspired by anti-imperialist fervor. Nonetheless, it was an interesting experience to see a Cuban rally for the first time after reading so much about them. Hopefully Fidel will be at the next one.

So the weather here in Havana has been intersting lately; apparently we are experiencing colder than normal temperatures. It has also been extremely windy, and the Malecon is constantly awash with waves, negating my plans to sunbathe after class. I’m sure it makes all of you in the colder climes of Pennsylvania and Boston so sad to hear that I am forced to wear long-sleeved T-shirts to stay warm.

One of the classes this week related to Cuban mental health practices. To sum it up, psychology and psychiatry here are informed by the theory that nurture has a lot to do with one’s current state of mind. We also talked about the ability to confront stress with reason and turn stress into a positive, motivating force. While the class was very theoretical, I enjoyed the philosophy behind it.

OMG Newsflash as I’m writing this, which is now the new most interesting thing this week. Last night, a bunch of us were going to go out with some Cuban guys that other girls in the group have already been hanging out with. As we left our apartment, we walked across the street to meet them all. Not 30 seconds after introductions, a swarm of about 10 or 15 other men came pouring out of the woodwork and the cracks in the street and surrounded us. It felt like a scene from West Side Story or something, and I wanted to start snapping my fingers. Only it was so sketchy that I didn’t. After a quick exchange between our guys and these new people, our guys told us that they’d be back in a minute. We spent about 20 minutes waiting on our stoop, before deciding “screw this”, what is going on. So we left and ended up at another club. HOWEVER, this morning Jose (Whitney’s friend) calls her and asks to talk to her in person to explain what happened. The result? The police arrested them. For no reason except being black (according to these guys). But no charges were actually pressed, and they spent a night in jail before being released this morning at 8 AM with no further consequences. This makes absolutely no sense and I honestly can’t figure it out. The weird thing is that many of the police that were there were also dark-skinned. It’s interesting because the official party line here is that racism isn’t a problem, but I don’t think that’s the actuality of the situation. We have a class on Cuban racial relations coming up soon, so hopefully I’ll have some follow-up information to this.

A few words about Cuban food. It is delicious. I don’t know if they put crack cocaine in it or what, but it’s addictive and I find myself wanting more five minutes after finishing dinner. This is what a typical meal schedule looks like for me:

Breakfast: assorted fresh fruits (pineapple, guava, and bananas are the usual), orange juice, coffee, and then a roll, onto which we can put any assortment of ham, cheese, eggs, butter, or tomatoes. Usually I take a banana to go, and eat it during our coffee break in class.

Lunch: Since it’s not provided here at the residencia, we usually forage whatever we can from street vendors for lunch. My two favorites are a stand right next to our house that makes ham sandwiches for less than US $0.10, or a little cafeteria halfway between school and home that puts together little takeout boxes of rice, tomatoes, slaw, sweet potato, and some sort of meat. This is also cheap, for maybe US #1.00. Delicious.

Dinner: Rice, beans, rolls, some sort of meat (usually chicken or beef but sometimes fish), beets, carrots, sometimes green beans, cole slaw, boniato (Cuban version of sweet potatoes). This is always topped off by dessert, whether it be ice cream, rice pudding, flan, or mago puree with cheese. Mmm.

Fourth meal: Sometimes you just can’t help it. Our fourth-meal of choice is a place called “Oportunidades” (opportunities). They make delicious fried chicken fillets and also croquets. Mmm. I have to say, at this point I don’t miss any sort of American food. The only thing I would add is avocados, which we might have eventually, they just aren’t in season right now.

We also spent some time discussing Santeria this week. I don’t want to repeat the lecture word for word, since it was three hours long, but it has to do with the idea that all of us are guided by different “divine energies”, or orishas (you could equate this to say guardian angels or saints in Christianity). Whether or not you are actually aware of the divine energy that guides you (that is to say, whether or not you become a practicant of Santeria and find out who your orisha is), they are present with you as you go throughout life. Becoming a practicant means that you actually tap into this divine energy with you, and then you can begin to change the future. That is to say, they believe that you can see the future or your destiny, and because you are aware of it, you can also do things to change it. The other thing is that with Santeria, there is not a proscribed set of rules, there is a certain code of ethics, and that’s it. Anyway, I’m pretty fascinated by the whole thing. In a few hours, we are going to our professor’s tambor, which is a type of ceremony to pay homage to an orisha. I can’t wait to go, both to compare it to the Haitian voodoo that I’ve seen, and to explore more about this religion in its own right.