Santa Clara

Thursday morning we took a nice leisurely start to the day with a city tour of Cienfuegos. The town was founded by the French and you can see that in the older buildings. You definitely get that New Orleans kind of feel. There’s a cute little main square and a nicely restored local theatre. And most importantly, Michael and I managed to scoop up some sand to bring home for our collection.

Then we were off driving to Santa Clara. Tonight we attended a local block party that was arranged as a means for us to really interact with locals on an intimate level. We were expecting what we would consider a block party in the United States and had even been instructed to take some food and drink to the gathering. It turned out that this was really an opportunity to tell us about the Committees for the Defense of the Revolution which are comprised LITERALLY of the residents in one city block. In this case just under 100 people. This is a university town (there are four here) and with education being free in Cuba this is a highly educated population. Six doctors live on this little street along with professors and other professionals. And yet it is still a very simple life.

When we first heard the term ‘neighborhood watch’, we were thinking of the equivalent in the U.S. where you watch out for your neighbors to protect them from outside threats. However, this neighborhood watch apparently watches your neighbors for subversive threats to the government. Sort of a lower tech NSA. Everywhere in Cuba there are sign imploring Obama to pardon and return the five Cuban “spies” jailed in the USA to Cuba and that point was made again here as our delegation stood on a little, dark street at night with the neighborhood chanting “Free the Five, Free the Five”…. But just for an awkward minute. Then we all drank rum and chatted and had a good time.

The next morning we strolled around Santa Clara as Michael continued on his week-long search to find Cubilette (a dice game where you play poker hands with the dice). He had been unsuccessful thus far. Nobody had them. And then at one of the crafts places one of the guys said that they can’t sell them because they are for gambling and gambling is illegal (as if no one bets on the ubiquitous dominos!). Anyway, we had resorted to asking bartenders and suspicious-looking characters on the streets. Today Michael asked one guy on the corner who said no. But then another guy in the group called us back and offered to run home and get us some. So we made the entire delegation sit on the bus while we waited on the corner for his return. Finally, a taxi rounded the bend, a hand reached out of the moving bus and handed off the dice to the guy waiting with us as the taxi continued on its way without stopping. They aren’t the prettiest looking plastic cubilette dice in the world but at least we bought them in Cuba in a strangely covert transaction.