Changes and Cuba

Days 169-212

I’m back in the Dominican Republic after a very successful and interesting trip to Cuba.  I’ll describe more about that trip in the latter part of this entry.  First, I must update you all with a few bits of news and changes here in Barahona.

The variety of La Habana.

Each August 5^th is a special day for the Salesian Sisters as it is a day to celebrate their founding, but also a time for change.  Sor Elizabeth and Sor Dulce both were chosen to work in Santo Domingo, ending their time (for now) in Barahona.  With great sadness we had to say goodbye to these fantastic Sisters, but also welcomed the new director, Sor Pilar, back into the community.  Sor Pilar has many years experience already in Barahona and the community is very fond of her, so she received a warm reception upon her entrance into Barahona.  

Sor Elizabeth’s parting was difficult for everyone in many ways.  For the community, they had grown to depend on her presence and leadership over the past four years.  For her, she has poured her time and energy into developing the community here and has grown to be a part of it.  For me, Sor Elizabeth has been my director and guide for the past 7 months, both in work and faith.  It is a difficult parting and a challenge, but I’ve learned that is how we grow.  It is more important to remember the good parts of the past and look forward to the future than to dwell on the past and wish things hadn’t changed.

The bakery is thriving now and I can have a sense of peace in my mind that, unless something drastic happens, it should keep growing for years to come.  It is in good hands and we planned carefully in the beginning stages.  It feels good to be a part of it, but better to know that the community can benefit from it for years to come.  

Guanabacoa Sunset.

School is back in session again, just proving how quickly time flies.  Many familiar faces greeted me when I came back from Cuba making Barahona my home away from home.  There is that new energy upon the start of a new school year, when the kids are still excited and motivated to be here each day.  It’s contagious and I think will help me get back into the swing of things.

We survived tropical storm Isaac, but Barahona itself suffered some damage.  Due to the softer soil and shallow roots of the trees here, many houses were damaged and crops destroyed.  Of course, in an area such as this, they will re-grow rather quickly.  Flooding of rivers and creeks wreaked the most havoc here by far.  I was grounded in Santo Domingo for an extended stay after Cuba because a bridge was out on the ONLYroute from Santo Domingo to Barahona.  Before this, I had not realized that there is no other way to access the south besides that one highway.  It was another reminder to me of the good fortune we have in the US of our highway systems.

 

Now, about Cuba.  Cuba is quite a different world; I’m not sure how better to describe it simply.  Yes, we know our history with Cuba and that it is still a communist state, but what is life in Cuba like?  That’s what I wanted to know, and I found out on my trip.

I was presented with the opportunity to help out with a Summer Camp for the kids in the community of Guanabacoa, Cuba, a couple months ago.  I jumped at the opportunity, knowing I might not have another good chance to visit Cuba in my life.  I had learned a bit more about Cuba from some other Cuban volunteers here in Barahona, but just stories.  I wanted to have the opportunity to witness the country firsthand.  

However, the Sisters warned me that life was a bit difficult in Cuba.  Since we were going though, they used the opportunity to send some provisions to the Sisters in Guanabacoa, since they’re not easy to come by there.  We were each to take two suitcases with us, one with our belongings and the other with materials for the kids’ camp and provisions for the Sisters.

After preparation, I set out for Cuba on August 9^th with two other Dominican volunteers: Ana and Melianny.  We had our bags weighed and boarded the Cubana Air plane, headed for La Habana.  I noticed immediately the rules on the plane were a bit more relaxed, as people walked freely down the aisles, even during ascension.  The flight was short, but eventful.  With only 10 minutes left in the flight, we hit the strongest bit of turbulence I’ve ever felt.  Luckily for me, I was in my seat with my seatbelt.  However, one man was waiting to use the restroom and we dropped and recovered so quickly that he became airborne and hit the floor fast enough to fracture hit ankle.  The plane was shaking, he was screaming, the pilots were yelling in Spanish over the intercom.  Not my ideal scenario for a flight.  Luckily we landed safely 10 minutes later.

The propaganda in Cuba is a sight in itself in Cuba.

This was only the beginning of our troubles though.  After we got off the plane, we were asked to show our documents by a man in civilian clothes.  The man turned out to be a government agent screening “suspicious” people.  We were questioned for a half an hour about our intentions in Cuba.  We mentioned we were volunteers, which ended up being a mistake.

Painted on the wall next to the sign: "Socialism or Death."

After he wrote down all our information (repeat ALL our information), we went through security to get our bags.  Things seemed fine at first, and we were almost at the door when a group of officers came towards us and told us that they needed to search our bags.  It turns out that the agent in civilian clothes had flagged us and radioed to other officers to search us.  So, for the next three hours, we have our bags searched thoroughly.  Article by article, they went through everything.  It turns out that they declared many of our things “gifts”, which they do not permit people to bring into the country.  This included our materials for the kids and provisions for the Sisters as well as other items.  They took our passports and kept us under surveillance the whole time.  I wanted to say that this isn’t right, but remembered that I was not in a democratic state.  

After three hours, we were able to leave the airport – missing three bags.  They had confiscated them, claiming contraband.  We heading to Guanabacoa a bit tired and frustrated.  The days leading up to the camp, we scrounged for materials and prepared the best we could.  The frustration wore off as the camp started, with the kids bringing an energy and aura of joy with them. They were one of the most well-disciplined groups of kids I've ever worked with and must say that I grew quite attached to a few of them in the short time I was there.

Every day during our stay in Cuba, one determined Sister, Sor Lupita went to the airport everyday to request our bags.  I want to note what a sacrifice this was, as it took 30 minutes to get to the airport, using the Sister’s van with precious fuel.  Finally, after 8 days, our bags were released with everything inside.  We were all pretty amazed that none of the items had been removed during that time and thanked God (and Sor Lupita) for the provisions.  However, at this point, there were only 2 days left of the Summer Camp and we had gotten by on the supplies we had.  That didn’t keep us from feeling a bit relieved though with a plethora of supplies for the last two days.

Santiago, Ana, Jairon, and I in Villa Maria.

After the camp finished, we had made acquaintances with various parents and leaders of the communities.  We were invited to a dinner party in one community, Villa Maria, and turned out to be an unforgettable night in Cuba.  As a citizen of the United States, I was unsure how I would be treated in the villages.  I can assure you though that the people welcomed me warmly and greeted me with respect and kindness.  Though they did admit they had a few qualms with our government, they noted that it was not my doing, just as they were not to blame for living under Fidel.  That night, the kids showed me their houses, I learned to dance salsa, and ate a variety of Cuban dishes prepared by the community.  

I found it interesting how the various communities acted as large families, a by-product of living in a communist society.  They all knew who was who and openly depended on each other’s strength to fulfill daily requirements.  Unfortunately, the downside is that the relationship community to community suffered.  People normally wouldn’t talk to one another if they weren’t acquainted, just because you never know who is on which side.

Dancing in Villa Maria.

Another event happened the following day, during lunch in another community.  As we were eating and enjoying ourselves, a man came by the house and asked for the head of the household.  He went to the front door and his wife motioned for us to be quiet.  The man at the door was working for the government and was making his random inspections of household allotments: water, bread, cheese, milk, energy, etc.  Though we were not talking about anything of importance, his wife later told us it was better to keep quiet in times like those.  It’s the small experiences such as those that remind me how lucky I am to be free.

Mango tree in full bloom in Guanabacoa.

This is not to say that Cuba does not have anything to offer.  The plethora of fruits, vegetables, fresh cheese, and milk available (for tourists) was worth noting.  Both the cheese and the milk were amazingly cheap and fresh, something I could definitely get used to.  It is hard to go back to store-bought dairy after having eaten real dairy.  The coffee and (so I’m told) tobacco is both cheap and of high quality in Cuba, with the same exact price in every single shop.

Scene from Mad Men?  No, just a typical street in Cuba.

La Habana was another experience as well.  Setting foot in La Habana, you might feel as if you’ve stepped into a time machine and gone back to the mid 1950’s.  Old Chevy’s and Ford’s are the most common sight and all the buildings have a colonial Spanish style to them.  I was amazed at the size and number of buildings with beautiful facades in La Habana alone.  Unfortunately many buildings are in need of renovations and reparations.  With just a little bit of money, La Habana could be one of the most beautiful cities I’ve seen.  It was as if everything had stopped in the 1950’s.  Oh wait…

La Habana Vieja Residential District

La Habana Vieja Tourist District

Ultimately, after two weeks, we left La Habana and headed back to Santo Domingo without incident.  Upon arriving in Santo Domingo, I felt a feeling I hadn’t fully experienced before: liberty.  I wasn’t even in my native country, but I felt safer and more secure.  It’s interesting the psychological impact and feeling of control the government has in Cuba.  Too many things are made too difficult: the transportation, the food, the money, the communication, and education.  For this reason, and my experiences, I have to admit that I never want to live in a Communist society and hope that there is a non-violent change on the way in Cuba.  

Santa Maria Beach, Cuba.

I could write for hours about the many experiences in Cuba, but unfortunately I do not have the time to document all them.  To me, this entry seems a bit shallow compared to my overall experience, but I’m afraid it will have to suffice for now.  However, I want to make the impression that I am extremely happy that I was able to experience these things and get to know the people of Cuba, for they are some of the nicest and humble people I’ve met.  I’ve learned from them and their life and will pray for change and their well-being.