Category Archives: joy

Cuba: Day Three

 

New York is not The City. England is not London. France is not Paris. Cuba is not Habana.

Leave the city and discover natural beauty, a slower pace and people willing to sit and talk.

Less than an hour’s drive west of Havana you are in the middle of a jungle of rolling hills and distant mountains.

There are few cars in and Habana and almost none on the highways. Cars are expensive and gas is cost prohibitive for most. People stand in the shade under overpasses holding out money or bananas or mangoes in exchange for a lift. Now and then you see a horse drawn cart.

We spent most of the day in the Sierra del Rosario Biosphere Reserve, a UNESCO site of 12,355 acres of preserved natural beauty. Designated in 1984, it is one of six UNESCO sites on the island.

Beginning in the 1800s, coffee plantations stripped much of Cuba of its natural beauty. By 1959, only 19% of Cuba was forested. After the revolucion, the government decided to reforest the land. More than 3000 people were engaged in planting 8 million trees.

The village of Las Terrazas was established by Castro’s government as a model of socialist community and sits in the middle of this reforested paradise. Omar, our guide for this part of our day, was born and has lived in this village is entire life. As a result he can see and hear birds, animals and insects that none of us could without his careful prompting.

The village was planned by an architect and as a result the buildings have uniform white stucco walls with red tile roofs. Paths wander from building to building, the village school, houses, apartments, playgrounds, the zip line course primarily for tourists and down to the lake.

Cuban artist, Lester Campo, has his studio on the shores of the Lake. Omar was so proud to discuss this internationally successful artist and how, “though he has traveled all over the world, he always comes home to Las Terrazas.”

The artist was out of the country, but his girlfriend was in the studio and happy to sell us lithographs of his work. His originals were too expensive for our group.

The community was very quiet and a few people were seen.

My husband asked Omar if there were other such communities throughout Cuba.

“No. It’s too expensive.”

Too bad.

Lunch was the same as all meals: tomato, cucumber, cabbage, beans, rice, and your choice of pollo, cane or pork. It was a lovely lunch, however, because we ate in the shade outside beside a creek with small waterfall slides. Most of us went swimming after our meal.

We drove to Vinales late in the afternoon. Vinales is one of the most picturesque parts of Cuba. It is among the limestone pin cushion hills called mogotes. It is small community  filled with casa particulares, the equivalent of B & B’s.

I am so glad we were not there during tourist season because it is obvious this is an area that exists to serve tourists who want to see this exquisitely beautiful countryside.

We arrived at our casa just in time to sit on the veranda, sheltered from the hour-long torrential rain that marked the prelude to the hurricane season. Our hostess had fresh juice for us and we grabbed our light jackets to stay warm as temperatures quickly dropped, a welcome relief from the heat and humidity.

Dinner was the most magical dining experience I have ever had.

It was at the organic farm owned by Wilfredo Garcia Correa and his family. The farm house sat high on a hill over looking the Vinales Valley with craggy mountains seen off in the distance. Dinner was on the porch over looking the fields and valley with the sun setting off in the distance. It didn’t matter that it was the same food as all other meals.

Chickens, as always were everywhere and now we had the addition of farm kittens walking around our feet.

Not wanting the evening to end, our group declined our bus ride and, with Dady, our lead guide, we walked the two miles back to the center of the community and to our casas.

I want to stay here.

Be Willing To Close The Door

door as a safe

In the fullness of family

it is difficult to close the door

shut out the cry for “mommy”

and sit still.

 

There is no silence really

even when the door is shut.

Even if, somehow, everyone has agreed

to “quiet time”

doors are slammed

refrigerators are opened and closed.

Feet stomp loudly

even on carpeted floors.

Whispers are louder

than normal conversations.

 

The closed door becomes a symbol.

To Mom, it is a declaration of Self.

“Me time.” Recharge.

 

To the family, the closed door says,

“Rejection.”

 

No matter how much explanation.

No matter how many articles or books

are shown and read

about the restorative nature of “me time for moms,”

the family only sees an action no less cruel than

Abandonment.

 

If she manages to close the door for a while,

the family looks at her with questioning eyes

when she emerges to see

“how she’s changed.”

 

They seem concerned that they may

somehow no longer be in the same

order of importance in her life.

“Mom’s just not the same”

 

For Mom,though, that moment behind the door

was salvation.

 

Tick Tock

felix clocks

 

Tick Tock

The alarm on my phone announces it’s 6 AM. Again.

I’m still exhausted.

Tick Tock

One of my cats stretches bedside me. The other one walks into the room.

They both stare.

“We’re ready for our breakfast .”

Tick Tock

I try to remember what day it is. How many meetings today?

My stomach tightens.

“Shit.”

Tick Tock

The routine starts.

I put the dinner table mats on the floor to signal the cats that food is on its way. One brushes my leg in thanks then sits on his mat and waits.

The other stretches again. Paces. Looks worried that he’ll somehow not be served. Anxiety left over from his early days at the shelter I guess.

Tick Tock

“Can I eat my cereal, drink coffee and read the paper before my young son wakes?”

Just looking for a few moments of me.

Tick Tock

He’s up. Cute. Happy. “Mommy come hug.”

Why would I want to resist?

Tick Tock

“We need to get going now.”

“Pancakes?” he asks.

I look at the clock.

“No time today.”

He gets his cereal.

I go dress for work.

Tick Tock

The rush to remember what goes into my backpack for work and his for school.

He’s put on shorts and a t-shirt (again). It’s cold and wet outside.

“Why don’t you step outside and see if you’ll be warm enough today.”

He does. He won’t. He changes clothes. Four times.

I’m anxious. I look at the clock. Wonder about the traffic. Maybe I yelled, “Hurry up.”

Tick Tock

Dropping him off. I know he likes learning, but talks too much for school rules. They’re not patient. Will we get another call from the Principal today?

“Bye. I love you, son.”

“Love you too.”

I watch him walk all the way to the door, ignoring the cars behind me.

I adore him.

Tick Tock

More bad news on the radio. “Why don’t I listen to music?  Because I need to be informed.”

Lots of traffic. Cars are crawling. I call my assistant at work. We review the day, talk business, make decisions…we talk my…entire…drive…in.

Tick Tock

I rush into the office. My assistant waits at the door. She gives me meeting notes. I give her my backpack. The meetings start.

Every minute of the day is scheduled. Every minute.

Tick Tock

My husband picks up our son and takes him home where they start homework.

I stop at the grocery store to pick-up pre-made dinner.

On the drive I return business calls. Mostly leaving voice messages.

Tick Tock

Home.

Our son sets the table while I dish the food on plates.

My husband starts the laundry.

We sit down together with a candle burning in the center of our plates. (To calm us?)

We pause to give thanks.

They are finished eating their entire meal by the time I’ve had my third bite.

Tick Tock

Bathtime for everyone.

Reading time for everyone.

Tick Tock

Lights out.

I fall asleep (again) in my son’s room after reading to him.

Tick Tock

Our son is older.

He plays hockey.

We add it to the daily schedule. Every day. At the rink. Every day.

Tick Tock

We look for free wifi at the rink.

Laptops so we can work during practice and between games.

We are lined up in the bleachers with the other parents doing the same.

Tick Tock

We’ve rushed.

We’ve juggled.

We’ve stressed.

We’ve argued (not much though, whew)

We’ve laughed (much, fortunately)

We’ve loved.

We’ve bonded.

Tick Tock

Our son is grown.

We can hardly wait to see one another.

We enjoy each other.

Tick Tock

During all these years…

We made family.

 

 

 

Sky

hiker at cliff's edge

I stood at the edge

of that high, high cliff

and saw the expanse of All.

I wanted to lean forward

and just fly – float- forever

so I could see everything that is offered.

Go into the Expanse that is not limited Self.

For a moment I imagined myself there.

Then I stepped back

to the grounding of the rocks and trees,

taking some of that Sky with me.