Trinidad, Cuba.

The first time I’d ever heard of Santeria and seen the Casa Templo de Santeria: Yemaya was on the Departures TV series when Canadian travelers, Scott Wilson and Justin  Lukach, walked into what appeared to be a regular storefront business on the cobbled streets of Trinidad.

What they found was  a black “doll” dressed in all white sitting on a chair in the middle of an empty room. She represents the sea goddess, Yemaya.

It’s startling not just because of what it is, but the room has an energy and calmness at the same time.  A very palatable feeling.

The high ceiling, white walls and blue fish and water paintings created a calm and cooler atmosphere contrasting heavily with the heat, humidity and ruggedly cobblestone streets of this UNESCO cited Spanish Colonial city located in the southern, center part of Cuba.

Our group had an appointment with the Temple Priest to learn about this religion that mixes traditions and beliefs brought by West African slaves and over years, mixed with Spanish Colonial Catholicism.

More than 70% of Cubans practice this religion.  Many come to the Priest for advice about work, love, decisions to be made… the advice is typically a mix of prayer and rituals centered around plants, fruits, vegetables and animals.

The Temple is closed on Sunday because the Priests attend mass in the Catholic Church.

This is when I wish I had started my Spanish lessons earlier so that I could return and converse with the Priest.  Through our translator I learned the Priests only wear white and the people I had seen in the streets in all white were either devotees of the religion or studying to become Priests.  Unfortunately, my infant-level Spanish prevented me from further engagement.

Dady, our lead guide had given us all street maps of Trinidad because “the streets all have two names and are confusing because they follow no pattern.”

Boy, was she right.

You learn early that the center of this small community is at the higher elevation and our casa was “down the slope.”  Streets and cobbled and challenging to walk. My husband and I were lost on our afternoon walk and about to head in the completely wrong direction when our son spotted us and put us on the right course.

Hot. Humid. A much poorer community than Cienfuegos the day before.

The peak tourist season had ended which I liked, but it made for empty streets and empty bars.

Our casa was “under construction” and more “rustic” than others. The family, however, was as warm and kind as we had learned to expect.  We had lunch there and were served our first treat of Cuban helado. My husband had both chocolate and vanilla.

He and our son met up with others in the group that evening to find a hotel to watch the NBA playoffs.

I stayed in the room to write and read my book on Che I’d found in the town earlier that day.