The last week has gone very quickly and was largely bland, days of procrastination and post Christmas blues.
On Boxing day as Larissa’s family were leaving they saw Bjork checking in/out of their hotel. She was wearing rainbow stockings (from the collection designed by her pal especially for her mammoth 18 month tour) and a long t-shirt. She was with her husband and child and apparently looked beautiful and happy. Jude Law was also on Larissa’s sister plane. Havana is clearly the place to be at Christmas time. I felt a pretty strong pang of jealousy at missing Bjork, and have no shame in admitting I did stroll by 9 days later in the vain hope she might still be there – suffering from a severe bout of paralysis I assume.
Back in November of last year, 6 weeks ago we handed in our passports and went through a ridiculous process of administration and forms so we could obtain a temporary Cuban ID. This is necessary to extend our Visas and prevent us from living here illegally. All very well and good. Yesterday we went to uni to collect our cards, complete with photograph and fingerprint. They took 6 weeks to be made and we then found out that we have to return them 1 month before we leave so immigration can put a departure stamp in our passports. And so after all this travel and panic and expense, we will have our ID cards for only 10 days, the irony being that we could have gotten 3 month tourist visas for a fraction of the price – the only things we have been discounted on anyway is ballet and cinema.
During our last Spanish lesson the topic of anatomy came up and what started as an education tour of body parts – cabeza, brazo, barriga, estomicho, gradually turned into a sexual educational lesson. Some very disturbing drawings appeared on the board – one of the lady area with a myriad of names ranging from polite to vulgar. At first this was quite funny but after 15 minutes I appeared to be the only one sitting uncomfortably. Pedro crudely drew a penis and vagina, facing one another, complete with a double headed arrow to indicate movement. This was just to illustrate the word “singa”. You can guess. I suppose it was funny but then it got unnecessarily detailed, and I don’t trust a single man living alone with 2 white cats that have the squits.
From our casa the sea front curves gracefully around to the lighthouse atop its rocky outcrop. During last weeks storms the waves were crashing around its base, bursting up at least 15 m into the sky in a roaring white froth. The same happens sporadically along the length of the Malecon and if you are unlucky, or stupid enough, a wave will hurdle the concrete wall entirely and land on your head. This is a very atmospheric sight, and I would love to see the sea in hurricane season – moving like boiling water, the horizon an ever-changing mass of dark blue rises and falls.
2 nights ago we were roused from our evening work by explosions, and rushing out onto the balcony we were greeted with the best fireworks display I’ve ever seen. Over the lighthouse and fort, 2 to 3 miles away a plethora of fireworks burst in the sky for over 20 minutes. Some of which I had never seen – like giant orange dandelion flowers (the ones you blow into the wind). Another set of fireworks exploded and their lights remained for some time, shimmering like a cloud in the sky. If you looked at it sideways, like you would at a kissing couple, then it appeared as a hovering mass of glow worms, or like the wave of starlings over West Pier, all with a tiny light bulb attached. It was so stunning. Hundreds of people had rushed out of the streets and lined the Malecon for the event. The final explosion was a huge, white cloud of ice and snow lingering for a few seconds before fizzling out. And the occasion? – the anniversary of the day when Fidel Castro arrived in Havana and overthrew the Batiste government. I think. If he is dead that was one huge waste of gunpowder and ego!
At some point last week we went to another open-air dance/concert opposite the American embassy. These are pretty huge events, largely populated by pimps and ho’s but as long as you keep your wits about you, smile and dance its all rainbows and joy. The dance culture here is nice and free and it’s not uncommon to just grab a woman’s hand and show her your moves even if she is taken – her hubby will of course by watching with clenched fists. Observing, you realise that the man has to take complete control, appearing nonchalant whilst the woman seemingly does all the work. I thought that my 1 hour lesson of salsa from Vinales made me a pro so I grabbed two rotund twins and danced them silly for a few minutes. They clearly loved it despite my fumbling feet.
We also had a poker night and I won and it was great!
PHOTOS:
Poker Face
Pedro's Trinkets
