"When in Cuba..."
Every year Habana hosts a jazz festival at the Mella Theatre. Anywhere else in the world, ticket prices to an event like this would be in the hundreds. But here in Cuba, tickets cost 10 cuc each ($10 USD) or if you are wise enough to known the tricks, you can get in for free. The “tricks” include waiting until the doors are just about to close before going up the steps and requesting to enter the theatre. It’s that simple. If there are any empty seats, which there always are, the doormen will allow you to go in for free. This is how must Cubans afford going to these performances, which would usually be outrageously expensive for them. You see, it’s not very realistic for someone to buy a $10 concert ticket when their monthly salary is $20. You heard me right, the average legal monthly salary of a Cuban is $20. That doesn’t mean that every salary is legal… but we’ll talk more about that later. For now…Jazz.
The performance featured many skilled jazz musicians from all over the island as well as Habana’s famous flamenco dancers, and the unique addition of a musical duo composed solely of one sitar and a traditional Indian drum. On the last evening of this year’s festival, the diva of the Buena Vista Social Club, Cuba’s most popular band, had promised to make a special appearance. Being that she is now her early 90’s, she rarely performs. But we were lucky enough to be here in time to catch one of her final shows.
It had been pouring rain all day. We were headed west out of Habana Vieja, piled into a taxi collectivo with a few new pals from the Hostal D’Robles. To my right sat Dan, his shoulder pressing firmly into my ribcage as we crammed into the backseat of a car obviously built no later than the 1960’s. Squeezed in beside us were Angel and Timote, the two remaining members of the adventure quadrant we had formed for the day. Timote was a young man from Sweden, traveling during his two weeks vacation from work to hit up to the typical Cuban tourist hot spots. Angel was an eccentric Spanish horticulturist who was preparing to ride his bike across the entire length of Cuba over the next two months. Dan and I, as most of you already know, are a couple in our mid twenties from the United States of Capitalism. I (Kaela) am a model/communicator/nature-lover from California and my partner Dan is a chef/videographer/musician from New York. We are a young couple, but we met in one of the oldest forests in the world; a redwood grove in Mendocino county. Our Cuban adventure is set to last for three months. I invite you to join us on our journey as we use words, photos, and video to capture the essence of Cuba and share it with anyone who cares enough to
The taxi sped down the Neptuno Avenue, sending water splashing onto sidewalks on both sides. It’s ancient leather seats creaked up and down on their rusty springs as we bounced over potholes. Seatbelts were a thing of the past…or maybe of the future, since this car had been manufactured before the use of them had become legalized in most developing countries. We made a sharp left turn, smashing into each other in the backseat in a way that reminded me of playing “Jello” on the school bus as a kid. Weighing less than 100 pounds until I was in my 20’s, I never succeeded in winning a round of Jello - a game in which victory depends on your ability to squish your opponent against the bus window when going around a corner. Back in Habana, I felt like I was once again on that big yellow bus, being pressed up against the glass as I held my breath until the next turn. At 5’11, 125lbs, I am no longer the scrawny pipsqueak who endured hours of bullying and squishage on the bus rides home from school. By now, thank goodness, I have already had my moment in the spotlight, run away from fame and fortune in hopes of finding deeper meaning in the jungles of South America, and fallen in love with life more times than I can count. I currently study communication, psychology, and Spanish. I am a nature lover to the extreme and I love to sing. Well that…and travel….and dance. I’ll tell you what, let’s make things easier. For those of you that don’t know me, and are about to join us on this amazing journey, here is a list of things you can expect to be reading about in the future:
Top 10 things I love to do:
Deep Spiritual & Psychological Conversations
Speak Spanish, Listen to Spanish, Dream in Spanish…anything in Spanish
Travel (Latin American Countries in particular)
Dance ***Ecstatic Dance***Contact Improv***
Yoga
Meditation, primarily Vipassana
Camp&Hike (WHENEVER POSSIBLE)
Live like the locals - trust me, I mean it.
Hug – Human touch really is the best medicine
Live2Serve. I truly believe that a life of service to others is the highest calling a human being can have. It’s also pretty rewarding, and the people you end up being surrounded by are the kind of people who are really making changes happen on this planet.
Ok so enough about me. I will probably have become a completely different person by the time the incredibly slow Cuba Internet uploads this onto the site anyways. So let’s get on with the story, shall we?. I met Dan Hartigan on September 11, 2014 exactly two weeks before I was to embark on a 3 month journey to Europe. Dan told me that he loved me before I ever got on the plane. He hasn’t stopped since. I wrote him the old fashioned way, and I waited my turn in line at the post office each week to mail him chubby envelopes stuffed with songs, letters, and leaves I had clipped from the trees in the parks of each country I visited. I was too transient at the time to receive letters, so Dan emailed me poems and songs everyday. When Christmas came around I was on the first plane back to California. For our first real date in months, Dan took me to a tea house, and finally kissed me under a eucalyptus grove on the beach. Hook, line, and sinker.
Almost 18 months later, we found ourselves in Cuba seated side by side, as we crossed over to Vedado from the district of Centro Habana. Our taxi spewed black smoke into the air behind us, and I looked down at my hand, fingers intertwined with those of the man beside me. Dan brought his face closer and kissed me just hard enough as he whispered, “Te amo.” I couldn’t help but to smile at him. “I love you” just sounds so much more romantic in Spanish! I suppose everything sounds better in Spanish though, doesn’t it?
A loud SCREECH shocked us out of our lover’s daydream.
“Que es este?” (What was that?) I asked, leaning forward to see what has happened.
The taxi pulled over to the side of the road, the clutch grinding like a piece of sheet metal being dragged over gravel. Angel, the only other person in the car fluent in Spanish, leans forward and talks to the chofer.
“We have to get out.” He says, “It’s broken.”
“What? I replied, “but it’s pouring rain! And we are not even halfway there yet.”
“Yeah, I know. But the car is broken. So we have to get out. Come on, let’s go. It’ll be ok. Look, the driver says we don’t have to pay for the ride. It’s a good luck day already.”
Angel grinned.
I made a face at him. I can’t say that I can disagree with his thrifty nature, but I was still not looking forward to the barrage of moisture awaiting us outside.
Forty-five minutes of walking and 15 glistening blocks later we passed a brightly lit sign announcing the Habana Jazz festival at the Teatro Mello. The boys wanted to take a look, so they ran across the street to read the brochures taped to the theatre doors. Compared to American prices, the tickets seemed relatively cheap, so we decided to reserve four seats and come back later that evening. We had been on the hunt for a popular place to learn the salsa with locals, but the rain had discouraged us. After buying our tickets for the show, we headed back to the hostel to change our clothes and grab a snack. It was also decided, that due to the state of the weather, it would be a wise idea for the four of us to share a bottle of Habana Club rum. (Just to warm our bones of course.)
Thus I experienced my first ever Cuba libre .
What it is they say?
Ahh yes...
When in Rome, do as the Romans do.
When in Cuba…drink rum.
