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Getting into Dominican Republic at half past midnight probably wasn’t the best idea, but that was the only flight available to still give me 2 days in DR. When I first arrive in a new country, the first taxi I take will usually overcharge me because I still don’t know the local taxi rates. If the taxi driver offers you a rate, then you will need to negotiate. The thing to do is just offer a price straight up, and if the taxi driver doesn’t take it, move on to the next taxi driver. That’s what I did when I left Cuba. The standard fare is $15 CUC, but I paid $20 on the way in. Likewise in Dominican Republic, I paid $1200 RD, which is almost $40 USD, whereas the standard fare should be around $25 to $30 USD. I guess until I become a gazillionaire and have a team of personal assistants to take care of these minuet details, I better get in the trenches myself and negotiate.
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While walking around Camaguey, I noticed the numerous art galleries there, something that lacked in other Cuban cities. I loved a piece of drawing combined with a kite installation, which separated the painting. The line of the kite thread through numerous dollar bills, and the extension of that line actually separates the painting in two with US symbols in the upper half and Cuban symbols on the bottom half. Upon a further look, the dollar bills on the kite line also are amalgams of the two dollar USD bill and the one dollar CUC. In Cuba, people are afraid to talk negatively about the government or even talk positively about the US. Artists like this one subsequently use their arts to express what they feel. Maybe I am seeing these paintings, ceramic pieces and installations with an American eye and interpretating them accordingly, but from speaking to the Cubans here, I feel that they all want change even though no one is talking about it openly. Often I would walk by a few Cubans and hear only parts of the conversation, which inevitably involve Cuban pesos and CUC. I would late find out much more about it in a conversation with owner of the rental room in Santiago. Read the rest of this entry »

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Trinidad’s stone roads in the higher part of the city and the valley surroundings set itself apart from the other cities in Cuba. Unlike the bigger cities, there are less “food windows” where Cubanos sell sandwiches and drinks from their home. Most stores close pretty early around six o’clock at night and the night life is limited to Casa de la Music, every city has one of these and also Casa de la Trova. In Trinidad, I got the small town feeling, typical of small cities in the US. People seem genuinely friend, except in tourists-heavy areas. I spent the day walking around the city and eventually ended up at Casa de la Trova. Musicians gather there to jam during the day and practice for night performances. I started talking to Jose, an older Cubano who turned out to be the director of one of the bands there and decided to take a conga lesson from him. I had taken one group conga lesson while in Florida and liked it very much since it helped me better understand salsa music. With over forty years of experiences playing all types of percussion instruments, Jose and I went through the basic conga patters in Salsa, Cha-Cha, Bolero, Merengue and Cumbia. With my limited vocabulary and dictionary, I managed to explain to him what I wanted to ask. Better yet, he wrote down the patterns in musical notation, which of course is universal. I hadn’t read sheet music in probably 10 years, but the symbols looked familiar enough. Our hour went by pretty quickly.

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Album here
It’s almost impossible to go a few blocks in Cuba without seeing C.D.R., Comite de Defensa de la Revolucion, something about Fidel or drawings of the 5 Cuban spies who got caught and are now in prison in the USA. For Cubans, they don’t talk about the Revolucion too much and seem to ignore the signs as if they are not there. But for a foreign traveler here for the first time seeking to learn about Cuba,

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Hello everyone, I am alive and ok. No one kidnapped or robbed me. Well, not unless you count the time when the woman, who rented me the room, stole half a bottle of my family size Target body wash while cleaning the bathroom. Besides that, all is well.

It’s a short 35 minutes flight from Fort Lauderdale to Nassau, Bahama. At the Bahama airport, I expected crowds, just like in the US, after all it’s a tourist destination. But I found none; closest thing was a 3 men band playing easy listening music. Onward to Cuba.

Flying into Cuba reminded me of movies about Vietnam War I had seen over the years. Read the rest of this entry »