Suenos de la revolution

Ways Cuba was not what I expected:

I think the revolution as we can read about it, if it ever was, is over. I read a book about the early days of the Chinese revolution, and they had this little old lady who said they'd been catching rats, and they got a bounty for each one they caught. It's the same feeling in 9 days that shook the world, those guys, and the same feeling again in the conversations with Cuba book, though they believe that feeling is misguided. It's the same as what Jeremy said he found, a place which had little but was so full of pride and joy in their society that belonged to them and they were building together.

It's a feeling I believe does and has existed, a recognition of the fact that we are in this society, this world, this life together. A belief that if we work together we can make it better. An experiment in doing that. I am not a Cuba apologist, and I have never believed that this government has all the answers, but I thought among the people I would feel that spirit.

But the white city of Jeremy's dreams I could not find. Instead I found a place, not a bad place, but a third world nation like so many I have found, where people are doing what it takes to survive and surprisingly upbeat about that struggle. Where garbage litters the streets and people work and party with equal vigour.

Ways Cuba was as much or more than I expected.

The cars are as advertised, 1953 Chevies with fins, pink Cadillacs rolling down the street, watching the morning and evening commute is like a parade of awesome, all different colours and in all different states of repair.

There is just as much skin tight spandex and salsa music as you could dream. People just play music out of their doors, and salsa at the slightest opportunity. The warmth and friendliness and interest in you of many people is also true. I have progressed a lot in language, because the people I talk to seem to not just be humouring me but interested in what I have to say.

The salsa club, Casa Musica, down the road. The music is loud enough to hurt your ears and the show is off the hook. Some hot boy and his two backup singers had numerous coordinated dance moves when they wanted to excite the crowd, and he would walk down almost into the crowd. There was a horn section, and the double row of hot girls at the front of all shapes and sizes and ages were getting right into it. Behind them couples swirled and there were also seats where you could watch, but people were dancing there too. So unlike a US club. The seamless blending of little white haired couples and 20 year olds, the total failure of people to organise themselves according to type, the sheer inclusiveness of it. Everyone happy, everyone sexy, everyone here to dance period end of story. It really worked.