El Prado

This was a long, full day.  We left the hotel at 0900 and went straight to downtown Havana, the “new” Havana, as compared to the old city we had seen the past few days.  We cruised along The Prado, a long, beautiful, tree-lined pedestrian avenue with street on either side.  Artists and food vendors were set up all along its length, and there were many people strolling and sitting in the shade on benches.  We were let off at a spot where Enedis said we would find some people she wanted us to meet and talk with, folks who were there to sell and trade houses.  Being able to sell one’s house is a recent phenomenon in Cuba.  It wasn’t allowed until just a couple of years ago.  Houses, and those vintage cars, by the way, were inherited.  But as part of Raul’s modernization policies, you can now sell both.  Trading was always allowed.  We met a woman who was selling her apartment in Old Havana.  She had a piece of cardboard on which she had written the specifications, and where she did and did not want to move.  An elderly gentleman next to her was only interested in making a trade.  They both said they had been coming to the Prado for days, but were patient.  Enedis told us some transactions take place very quickly, and others not.  I asked about paperwork, thinking about agents, lawyers, and escrow we have to deal with in the States, and learned the transaction was usually executed on a single sheet of paper, with both parties signing after agreeing on a price.  All perfectly legal and satisfactory to all.

Havana Capitol

A warm, clear, beautiful morning. We walked leisurely down the Prado, which was very reminiscent of the Ramblas in Barcelona, and saw some extraordinary paintings exhibited by artists.  Art and music were everywhere in Havana, very good art and music.  It is so much a part of the culture, and one of the reasons we were coming to love the place.  We continued on to the National Theater, where Enedis tried to get us in, but a very apologetic young woman said they were in a dance rehearsal and we couldn’t enter.  She begged us to come back later, but Enedis said our schedule was full.  So we moved on to the imposing Havana Capitol building, completed in 1929, and designed to reflect the U.S. Capitol.  It was the seat of government until the revolution in 1959, and how houses the Cuban academy of sciences.

La Finca Vigia

Back on the bus and off to one of our most anticipated stops, Hemingway’s Finca Vigia, (Lookout Farm,) on the outskirts of Havana.  Purchased in 1939 for $12,500, quite a lot of money in those days, Hemingway lived there off and on, with wives three and four, until 1960.  The place was found by third wife Martha Gellhorn, who wanted to get Ernie away from the evil influences of downtown Havana, and the Hotel Ambos Mundos, where he had rented a small room on the top floor.  After settling into the finca he wrote “For Whom the Bell Tolls,” and later “The Old Man and the Sea,” when not marlin fishing in the waters off the island.

Interior, Finca Vigia

Picasso Bull

It remains a beautiful, comfortable house.  We were not allowed to actually enter, since the place is full of priceless artifacts, all as Hemingway left it when he departed in 1960 for Idaho.  Books, magazines, typewriters, mounted animal heads, liquor bottles, all stand frozen in time, as does much of the rest of the island.  It was an extraordinary experience, made all the more haunting by viewing only through windows and doorways.  This Picasso ceramic adorns a wall near an arched doorway.  We have posted several photos of the place on Face Book, so won’t run those again here.  If you’re interested, find more there.  Just this: a running tally of Papa’s weight, written on the bathroom wall in his own hand, a poignant glimpse of a man who had become obsessed with his declining health and inability to continue the robust life he had invented.

The Weigh-In

Tower Studio

There is an interesting parallel with the Key West house, a kind of tower writing studio, this one also separated from the main house, and accessible by an outside stairway.  It is a wonderful space, but we were told Papa never used it, because he felt too removed from people.  It offers a sweeping view of Havana from its many tall windows, and gets the sea breezes more than the lower house.  I thought it was the best writing space I’d ever seen, but then I’m pretty anti-social.

Pilar

Hemingway’s treasured boat, Pilar, rests on blocks outside beyond the pool, (where Ava Gardner is said to have been seen swimming in the buff.)  It is a gorgeous piece of work, all wood, with abundant teak throughout, including teak down-riggers.  An elegant fishing machine, Papa used it in the Keys, Bimini, and all around Cuba, and during WW II, he outfitted it with a .50 cal. machine gun, and went hunting Nazi submarines!  That adventure along with some beautiful writing about his beloved cats, four of which are buried next to Pilar, can be found in “Islands in the Stream,” written mostly at the finca in the late 50s.

Pilar Stern

I could have stayed, of course, but we had to move on.  In the gift shop I bought an amazing poster, a photograph of Papa shaking hands with Fidel at a marlin tournament, which Fidel reportedly won! shortly before Hemingway left his beloved Cuba for good.  It is interesting not only for its uniqueness, but because Papa was not a supporter of the revolution, and one can perhaps see a little grimace in his smile.

Coloreando Mi Barrio

Leaving the finca we headed back into Havana, and yet another incredible assault of the senses.  This was a visit to Coloreando Mi Barrio, (coloring my neighborhood,) a community project teaching art to children.  We were met by our local guide, an effusive, committed artist and teacher, who showed us some of the street art, (which extended throughout the neighborhood; walls, windows, doors,) then led us into a pavilion where a small band had set us.  We sat in a semi-circle and heard first from a young man who told us he had “gone bad,” and had spent some time in prison, but had been rescued from that life by the project.  He was a rapper, and accompanied by the band, did one of his songs.

Rapper

I’m not much of a rap fan, but his enthusiasm was infectious and made it very enjoyable.  The band played; the girl singer sang.  Mango juice was passed around for all, and then we were invited to get up and dance, and those who were able, including yours truly, engaged in a little conga line.  All the people associated with the project were so up-beat, happy, and eager to share their art and experience, and the good they were doing for these very poor children.  We learned that the studio and gallery, just beyond the place where we were seated, had been a water tank, but had stood unused for years.  The project director told us he had gone to government officials and asked if the group could have it, and permission was granted.

In the Gallery

We went inside this remarkable space, the curved walls of which were themselves painted in explosions of color, with many works of art hanging and displayed on tables.  Back outside we took in more of the colorful neighborhood, accompanied by some of the children who lived there.  Besides the brightly colored decoration of the houses, there was a lot of found art, common objects that had been painted or manipulated in some way.  Old bathtubs made frequent appearances.  While we’re on kids we should say something about education.  School is free and mandatory for all until the age of 15, but since it is impossible to get a job at 15, further education is encouraged, and a virtual necessity.  Each level, elementary, middle school, and high school, have their own distinctive uniforms.  The elementary school kids dress in blue and white, with little red kerchiefs,  and are adorable.  In the yard of every school stands a bust of Jose Marti.

Virgin Mary at Coloreando Mi Barrio

Paella, Hostel Valencia

On to lunch, back in Old Havana, at a restaurant called Hostel Valencia, a place known for its paella. Delicious, hot Cuban bread came first, then our regular Cristal and Buccanero.  The house band, consisting of two guitarists and a vocalist/percussionist, appeared and began playing, and they were the best we’d yet seen.  Each voice was strong, clear and distinctive, their harmonies flawless, and the lead guitarist was positively stunning.  Two large pans of paella were then brought out, one seafood, and the other pork and chicken.  Barbara and I ordered the seafood.  Now, in the interest of full disclosure, I have to say that I make a pretty mean paella, with fish, shrimp, and scallops, cooked in saffron rice, so theirs had a certain standard to reach.  Though very good, we both rated our home paella a little better.  With ice cream and coffee to finish, some spontaneous dancing again took place, (not us this time,) and then we were back on the bus.

Happy Couple

A short drive to a spot near the harbor that housed a large indoor market, where we spent a half-hour browsing through an incredible array of arts and crafts.  We bought a few small items to take back, and admired another exceptional group of paintings.  I was becoming overwhelmed by how many very gifted artists there are in Havana.  Back on the bus we passed this happy couple getting into their car.

At the hotel we had a brief session with folks from the Cuban Institute of Music, which we had missed two days before because of our being trapped in the storm downtown.  More wonderful music, and then upstairs for a shower a short rest before readying for another dinner out and, for a hardy few of us, a show later at the Hotel Nacional, featuring the famous Buena Vista Social Club.

Vino

We left the hotel at 7, the restaurant was a good 45 minutes out of town in the country, and I was sure, by the time we found it, down a narrow road in a tiny little village, that we would never make it way across town to the Nacional by show time.  But it was out of my hands, so I let it go. Vino was astonishing, even when measured against the other amazing places in which we had dined.  Open-walled, it was at once elegant and homey, and the food was out of this world, truly gourmet.  A palador, Enedis allowed that there was probably some outside money invested in this place.  It was off the charts, and in the most unassuming place you could imagine.  We sat with a couple from Tampa, and had a most delightful meal, me, a perfectly cooked snapper with trimmings, and Barbara, roast lamb.

Mariachi

Racing the clock, we skipped coffee and climbed back aboard our bus in the rain.  Don’t know how he did it, but Miguel got us to the Nacional at 9:40, dropped the 8 of us and Enedis, and took the others back to our hotel.  Buena Vista wasn’t due to appear until 10, and, as it happened, the whole show was in honor of Mexico, and the opening act, which we were able to catch the last 20 of, minutes was a killer Mariachi band.  They rocked!  The old ballroom of the Nacional was full, including two long tables of folks who, from their singing and cheering, appeared to be Mexican Nationals.  A good time was being had by all.

Buena Vista Social Club

The Buena Vista Social Club band took the stage shortly after 10.  The original Buena Vista Social Club was a Havana venue where musicians gathered to play in the 1940s.  Some 50 years after its closing, American singer and guitarist Ry Cooder and Cuban musician Juan de Marcos Gonzales made a recording of traditional Cuban music featuring a group of musicians who had played the club.  The recording was a great success, as was a subsequent film, both titled The Buena Vista Social Club, and the group toured extensively in the late 90s.  Three original members, Compay Segundo, Ruben Gonzales, and Ibrahim Ferrer, died at the ages of 95, 84, and 78 respectively, in the early 2000s.  Several original members, and new replacements continue to tour internationally and play in Cuba.

Buena Vista Percussionist

Their show was professional perfection, trumpet, guitars, percussion, bass, piano, and four vocalists.  Ballads, Salsa, hot Afro-Cuban pieces lasting 10 minutes, it was incredible.  The last 20 minutes of the show were taken over by the beautiful lady pictured below.  I didn’t catch her name, but she was obviously an old pro, and wowed the remaining crowd, (our little group and the Havana folks; the Mexicans had left,) by cruising out among the tables, microphone in hand, getting up close and personal with her still sassy delivery, and amazing voice.

Lovely Mama

We stayed to the end, closed the venerable old ballroom, and accompanied our intrepid Enedis out into the night.  We had to wake Miguel, dozing on the bus, but he got us home safely again, and we hit the sack about 12:45.  Long day; wonderful day.  We were starting to like this crazy little country.