Sort of saw this coming

Well, Castro stepped down today. This was the reason that I spent the money to go over the summer -- I now have the ability to say that I was one of the last Americans to visit Cuba during the Castro regime. How's that for pretty damned cool?

I'm not really sure if anything will change, though. Maybe it will, maybe not. We'll just have to wait and see ...?

What I'm aiming for ...

I sort of miss my "Wild Man of Borneo" look, the frazzled and kill-bears-with-my-naked-hands look I sported on my return from Cuba. Note the following ...


Aye, there you have it. My current look is more, shall we say, reserved.

Ciao.

On El Prado (nostalgically)

Talk a walk down el Prado. To the right is the city of today, the dirty streets and buildings with crumbling and cracking paint; to the left is the old city, the city Havana puts on when guests are coming to visit. El Prado is the dividing line, a division of: road rumbling with cars that were made anachronisms four decades ago; trees that are old and gnarled, bent and twisted over the boulevard; the boulevard itself a mixture of black and white triangles forming squares and diamonds. In the mornings, people walk the slick black and white tile to work, letting the older folks sit by the side undisturbed, watching the younger men and women march off to work. Later in the day, kids play games with their classmates on el Prado, giggling and running and tagging and sliding. When the sun has finally worn itself out, the benches are lined with people of all ages and origins, sitting and watching the beggars and hustlers work the occasional group of tourists who edge cautiously down the walkway. It's as if they're afraid of getting sucked into Havana Centro with all its chipped paint and pickup games of streetball (sticks and medicine bottles, not bats and baseballs).

But let go of Havana Vieja. Get sucked down the side-street with all its buildings stuck in states of slow decay, with little bits of crumbling cornerstone littering the sidewalks and threadbare dogs darting in around the cars that may or may not be following some kind of rules on the road. Brush past the young, buff guys (there are no real potbellies, no beerguts, in Cuba), and excuse yourself respectfully past the older gentlemen in jackets. Duck through the on-going game of stickball, don't mind the boys whipping out little kid curses at you, give them some gum if you've got it. Wander and sticks to the areas you don't know. You might be surprised where you come out of the concrete jungle (the heat makes this analogy all the more valid).

Calle Hamel, where the local artist Salvador Gonzalez Escalona has changed his home street into a huge canvas.

The Malecon, where the Atlantic ocean is held away from the city by thick, old concrete and stonework; where the fishermen are replaced at night by lovers and partiers.

Revolution Square, where you can stand between the famous gaze of el Che and the staggering monument to Jose Marti.

... hmm. That's enough for now.

And now, for a taste of things to come ...

For those who know the movie reference in the title, kudos and I'm terribly sorry if you admitted to having watching and remembered such a movie. Don't worry - there are support groups.

The 138 flags blocking the view of the American Interests building in La Havana, Cuba.

The American Interests building in Havana is the closest thing to an embassy the US has in Cuba. It's a big stolid building with a ten-foot-tall concrete and iron fence running the length of the perimeter. A few years ago, an electronic sign running the length of the building appeared and promptly began to run news and famous quotes from people like Ghandi and the like in a Ticker Tape fashion. All Spanish, of course. In response, Castro had 138 flags erected in order to block the messages. The flags -- black with a single white star in the center -- represent Cubans killed by supposed American actions.

I'm getting quite sick of this photo, honestly.

There's quite a lot to be written about this, but, right now, it's late and I've got to work tomorrow.