You're Going to Cuba?!

"Isn't that illegal?"

"I thought you couldn't do that!"

"What about the poisonings at the American embassy?"

"Isn't it dangerous?"

"What group are you going with?"

"Are you allowed to take pictures?"

Will you have an escort?"

Surprise. Shock. Fear.  These have been the predominant responses of my mostly middle-aged friends to my upcoming Cuba trip. And these folks have been around the block a few times. They remember (or wore) beads and bell bottoms and have since traveled the world. But not to Cuba.

1967 at Guantanamo Naval Base

Guantanamo desalination plant created after Castro cut water supply.

Why this vague sense of danger? My twenty-something sons have no trepidation about Cuba. To my generation, however, Cuba is like a dark continent... a black hole... forbidden fruit, perhaps... mysterious, alluring, out of reach. We know about the cigars, the music, Havana, salsa, rumba, the embargo, Castro (cue ominous music) and more recently the detention facility at Guantanamo (more ominous music). Perhaps we're suffering from a Cold War hangover. We remember the Bay of Pigs and the Cuban Missile Crisis; for decades, we read and heard about human rights abuses in Cuba at the hands of the evil dictator, Castro, perilously close to our southern border. Our collective subconscious is a messy stew of truth and fiction. But hey, the Soviet Union is long gone. Dominoes is a game.  There are no ICBMs on our southern border. Castro has been replaced by Raul. A fresh breeze is a- blowing and the times they are a changin' !

Enjoy a cup of strong coffee and snap out of it!

Preparations for Cuba Travel

A twenty-something friend of mine popped over to Iceland for vacation with only a couple days of preplanning. If Lonely Planet and multiple internet sources are to be believed, if you are a United States citizen, your Cuba adventure should not be spontaneous. This may or may not be true, but for my first Cuba trip, planning seemed prudent. Here are my reasons: US government travel restrictions, potential language barrier, accommodation arrangements, and what I’ll call the “freak out factor.” Let’s consider each...

• US Government Travel Restriction - Unless you are planning to fly to Cuba from outside the United States—-from Canada or Mexico, perhaps, with only a travel visa (not strictly legal, but thousands do it without a hitch)—- restrictions apply. Currently, winter of 2018, solo travelers must qualify under one of twelve categories. “Support for the Cuban People,” and “Journalist,” are the two that I considered. The US State Department has detailed information about each. Unless you travel with an organized tour group, you get to figure this out on your own.
• Language Barrier - Cubans speak Spanish, and a few speak English very well. While Duolingo rates my Spanish fluency at 48% (hey, not too bad!) that's not sufficient for me to feel comfortable in the places I want to go: outside the tourist hubs of big cities, out in the countryside, little towns, and off the beaten path.

  

  Cuba! So much to see; so little time!

• Accommodation Arrangements - Gone are my days of sleeping on a thin mat on rocky ground. Twenty-something I am not! My husband and I planned our trip during peak season, which meant that the pool of casa particulares was shallow relative to off season. Finding a comfortable bed would take some preplanning. I started a month before our February trip and found an adequate selection at each stop of our journey. Last-minute Airbnb bookings work great where internet connectivity is readily available. Cuba is not this place! Connectivity is said to be sparse and sketchy. I know that spontaneous lodging discoveries can be fantastic. We did that long ago in Great Britain where we were a) driving a car, and b) fluent in the language. For the current trip to Cuba, I wanted to know exactly where we would rest our heads each night!
• The Freak Out Factor - I’ve pined for Cuba my whole life, but still might have found multiple reasons to freak out if I had procrastinated. There is a lot to think about and do ahead of time---passport, visa, travelers health insurance, exchanging money, flights to and from, itinerary, lodging, understanding and complying with US government regulations, and on the home front, a multitude of considerations from prepaying bills to what to do with the dog! 

Perhaps I'll pop over to Cuba someday. For now, I'll plan.

Paradise in Cuba!

The year I was born, 1959, was a year of passion, revolution, and rebirth. Think of the iconic personalities: the defeated Fulgencio Batista, and the victorious Che Guevera and Fidel Castro. I suppose it was a year of passion and upheaval for my parents as well. In January, Batista fled. In April, I arrived.

My fascination with Cuba began later. My father, a Navy doctor, was stationed for three years at the Guantanamo naval base. While Cuba experienced the growing pains of a new socialist economy, nationalization of scores of business, agricultural struggle to wean from its unhealthy sugar mono culture, and austerities created by the United States trade embargo, I experienced paradise.

My sister, Karen, and I gallop into the water.

Paradise! Sun and sand, and when I wasn't in school, endless play: climbing trees, riding horses, building forts, galloping around my neighborhood, a mane of blond hair streaming behind, and beaches. My mom maintained a saltwater aquarium at home where I could, between beach visits, view beautiful fish and the mashing mouth parts of sea urchins. The ocean was warm and welcoming at my favorite beaches, Windmill, Phillips, and Kittery. I floated in utter tranquility, gazing at the gorgeous tropical fish just inside the protective reef.

Brother Keith with papaya.

Mangoes have been my favorite fruit for as long as I can remember. I recall stretching up from my saddle perch to pluck a luscious red mango and later, eating it like an apple, succulent juice dripping down my chin and arms. On the tree in our backyard hung immense papayas as big as my head, nothing like the anemic specimens in my local northwest grocery. Limes also grew prolifically in our backyard and, to this day, I cannot smell limes without thinking of Cuba.

I'm a Washingtonian now. We rust, we mold, and some of us, like me, crave tropical warmth during a long dreary winter.

Me (with the burger) chillin' at the Snack Shack.

My Cuba dream was born in childhood and stayed with me through the long years of the (ongoing) US embargo, college, marriage, jobs, and raising children. Come with me as I journey with adult eyes back to the country of my childhood dreams. 






Continue to "First Impressions of Cuba, Part 1"
http://mycubadream.blogspot.com/2018/02/first-impressions-of-cuba-part-1.html