DAY 1O, February 21, 2020: Redux Reductum

Air route home, más o menos.

The last day in Santiago afforded the chance to sleep in, get packed, sort out items to be left behind for the hotel staff, like shirts, pants, socks, tips in CUCs, etc. On the down elevator was a Canadian couple, who asked what we were doing in Cuba, our being the enemy and all (as pointed out earlier, this happened more than once).

Motoring into the near-in Vista Alegre neighborhood, we went along streets of true mansions, dating from the era of Santiago aristocracy, or, as one official publication clarifies it, “Vista Alegre, el cual se distinguió como lugar de residencia preferido por personajes sociales o políticos de lo más encumbrado de la pirámide social de la época” - “Vista Alegre, which distinguished itself as the preferred place of residence for social personalities or politicians of the most elevated of the social pyramid of the epoch.” Now, of course, it is democratized, and aristocratic homes are apartmentalized, nationalized, or function as agencies, businesses, galleries, and B&B’s.

Our stop was Taller Cultural Luís Diaz Eduardo, home to a cooperative artists’ workshop of more than fifty years’ duration. Spread through this former wealthy home, its central courtyard, and the outbuildings behind are working and display spaces for artists who do printmaking and ceramic sculpture. After a brief orientation, we were free to poke around and visit with the artists on site.

This video is dated, but still captures the flavor of the art there. https://youtu.be/pwX7Q7Er03c

Joaquin Bolivar Thomas, one of the superb print artists. He is a respected artist who has taught internationally, as well as  teaching at the taller. We snagged several of his prints.

"A man who tells his history of love and sows an ear owes nothing to the future."

Off to lunch, going back into central Santiago for a hospitality redo at Restaurante Thoms Y Yadira. What promised to be a laid-back last group meal together veered suddenly off kilter.

INTERNATIONAL INCIDENT #2:

As before, we filed up the stairs to the second floor, filling the restaurant, balcony tables, and bar except for a single table immediately by the entrance. Perhaps 15 minutes passed. Enter a couple, man and woman in their 30’s or early 40’s, very social. They took the open table, and started in on conversation with us. “We’re from Telluride,” they said. “Colorado, eh?” we said. “Yes," they said. They’d been in Cuba for 3 weeks. Then the conversation deviated into stranger things.

The man told us he’d not liked Donald Trump at all. Now after three weeks in Cuba, he realized that Trump was a great president. It was a really smart thing that Trump did with the embargo. Let's quickly review what Trump did. Trump reinstated the suspended restrictions on American tourism, and cut off Cuban supplies of oil and other essentials, quashing any nascent hope that the long-standing embargo might soon end. This stranger in the restaurant was bloviating that all Cuba’s issues were due to its own government, which should blamed. He said that the Cuban people have to learn that their government is their problem, that they are complicit in their own poverty, that they need to change it, and that Trump's actions might help them see that.

Something was clearly dystonic here, and most of us disengaged from the couple. He was quite assertive and not a little loud. Some vague eastern European, Slavic, something, inflection was detectable in his English, suggesting that English isn’t his primary tongue. He wanted badly to have this conversation. She, on the other hand, said very little. And here he was, in a public restaurant in Cuba, as an ostensible American tourist, yet openly and unreservedly criticizing the Cuban government. When queried, he claimed that they’d come to Cuba through Mexico, bypassing US customs. He persisted, even after our food came and we ignored him, in trying to have a debate. Finally, S and D told him we’d have to agree to disagree. As we left the restaurant, filing out, he was saying, “These people don’t want to listen!’

Most peculiar. We struggling to get our heads around just what on earth was going on. Our last day of our 10 days in Cuba, minutes from being on the way to the airport, an easily overheard public interaction unlike anything experienced on any other day, in any other location. We think, we suspect, that this was some kind of setup, some kind of surveillance activity, but of whom? Our guides? Us? The restaurant owners? And just who was doing the surveilling? It's still an entertaining, albeit unsettling. mystery to ponder.

Exit stage south to the Santiago airport. Unload, go through customs with assistance from our guides, say and hug goodbye. All CUCs had to be converted. Once we’d gone through Cuban customs and our passports were stamped, Cuban money was no longer valid, even in the boarding area while still in Santiago. Dollars and Euros OK. A two hours delay resulted from the plane being late getting out of Miami. But we loaded efficiently, took off with no other airplanes in line, or anywhere in sight. Just over an hour, and we were on the ground in Miami, back in the USA. From the international gate to US Customs is a walk of approximately 60 miles. We joked that the flight was shorter than the walk to customs.

Each of us had his own encounter with the customs officers. Dave’s was this:

Officer: “So what exactly were you doing in a communist country?”

Dave: “We’re traveling as a group with the Santa Fe International Folk Art Foundation. It’s a people-to-people exchange where we engage with artists, musicians, small business owners, galleries and so forth to support their activities in Cuba. Then some of them get to come to Santa Fe and participate in the annual folk art market there.”

Officer: “Well, that’s way more than I needed. Did you get to see any of those old cars or try the rum and cigars?"

Dave: "I did."

Officer: "Welcome home, sir."