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.
Bus ride from Camaguey to Santiago was very uneventful. The bus smelled aweful because the restroom hadn’t been cleaned. I think the other old Germen tourists dropped bombs in there because they were all smiles, as if the stench was not there. Maybe their olfactory glands don’t work any more. Ignorance is a bliss sometimes. The uneventful-ness of the bus ride made me feel like a prisoner; at least the bus had air conditioning. I began to think about the long distance bus rides I will take in Central America. Maybe I will fly instead. Long bus rides aren’t my cups of tea. Before I knew it, I was finally still not quite yet at Santiago. Yup, another four hours to go and the Germen retirement community yapped away.
When I arrived in Santiago and found my casa particular, I treated myself to another lobster dinner. I can get used to this, not the bus ride but everything else. Santiago has a rich history, perhaps more so than all the other Cuban cities. It is the city where slaves were dropped off and thus til this day, it has a pretty large population of black Cubans. Also Fidel and company hide out in the Sierra mountains nearby and prepared for his second attempt at overthrowing the Batista government in the years around 1957.
I toured the Museum of Clandestine Revolution which showed the history of the Castro revolution and the items used by many of the heroes of the revolution. Unfortunately taking pictures was forbidden. As the guide explained the actions of the many revolutionary heroes and how they were captured and killed, I was thinking to myself where was Fidel during all this time. The guide said that he was hiding out in the mountains. Good strategy. Osama Bin Laden has learned a thing or two from the other Bearded One. The history of the revolution here didn’t make too much sense to me. In 1957, many of the important figures of the revolution were captured and killed, and in 1958 Fidel’s troops attacked and captured a few cities in Eastern Cuba. Then all of a sudden the entire Batista government gave up control of Cuba and Batista fled. I remembered the other version of the Cuba history that my Cubano friend Carlos in Miami told me. That version had the US withdrawing support for Batista and his illegitimate presidency; since the US did not place another candidate in place when Batista fled Cuba, Fidel took power. That version sounds more believable. In all of the pictures in the museum, Fidel towered over everyone else. In the house where I rented a room, I also saw a picture of the house owner with Fidel. I estimate that Fidel is probably six feet and three inches, quite a towering man.
Later in the day, I toured the museum in the First Catholic Church in Cuba, where many portraits and items of the past bishops are prominently displayed. I couldn’t help to think about how religion was used to control the indigenous people and the slaves, at least those who were still alive after the introduction of Spanish diseases and harsh labor. 
The outside of the church was quite impressive, although the twin towers and the angel in the middle are not original. Outside the Cathedral, I met an old man who used to travel the world and box for Cuba. He was selling newspaper now to support his family. He punched the walls of the Cathedral with much power and didn’t flinch a bit as if his knuckles had no feelings. Of course, I politely asked him to stop before he hurt himself. I bought newspaper from him and he was on his way.
One of the things I really like about traveling is discovering and trying local food. I have tried oysters from street vendors, ice cream from stands, tamarind from a cartwheel, 
yogurt that comes in a pouch, and fresh squeezed juices of unknown tropical fruits. I expect to get sick from trying local food at least once in my trip, but the experience is well worth the risk.
Next day I headed out to visit Castillo de San Pedro Del Morro, an impressive military complex that’s been destroyed and built many times since the 17th century. The ride there itself was an adventure. Instead of taking a taxi, I opted to go with local bus, which was basically a truck with enclosed metal grills. There is only one way in and out of the bus, which is through a little stair in the very back. One worker collected the fare as the people got off and then proceeded to climb the metal grill on the side of the bus to direct everyone to move in and squeeze to make room. Clinging on to my backpack, I felt like a chicken in an overcrowded cage being carried by an over-energetic six years old. After the first five minutes, I started to think about the worst case scenario. What if the truck flipped? I’d be screwed since there’s only one way out. That was enough for me; I got off, grabbed myself a cool coconut by the side of the road and hailed a taxi. Overlooking the scenic coastlines, the fort houses a museum that depicts the many attacks on the fort and the famous Pirates of the Caribbean. 
One of the cannons is still used in a ceremonial firing every night, but unfortunately I was there during the day.
Upon returning to the house, I sat and chatted with the owner of the house. I wanted to learn more about the local economy. He said that many people have work given by the government, but either don’t show up to work or cut their work hours short. There is also a lot of stealing from the government. Since the government pays so little, people who work in the shops steal things from the government and resell them privately out of their home. Before I left Cuba, I would buy some cigars from a house next to the cigar factory. Many people have given up on having a better life and spend their life drinking Ron and dancing. As for him, he is waiting for the changes from the government which he doesn’t expect for another ten to fifteen years. On the positive side, Cuba has free health care, so even though he has dual citizenship in Spain, he opts to live in Cuba because otherwise he wouldn’t be able to afford heath care for him and his 95 year old mother. She is still quite health though, still able to hear and see very well and once I got her started talking, she fired away. She seemed to think and communicate very clearly. When I first saw her, I thought she was only in her early 70’s. Of course, the million dollar question is what her secret to good health is. She loves eating tomatoes, green salads, doesn’t avoid meats, drinks a lot of coffee, and exercises at least one hour each day. She pumped her fists forward and back and to her sides to show her strength. She said she has dinner everyday at 5 pm and then doesn’t eat very much after that. Her dinner portion is small, but she would drink a large cup of coffee with her dinner. She gets up between 3 and 5 in the morning and does her one hour of exercise. Well, there you have it — the secret to living a long life.
I was to fly to Dominican Republic the next day, but the computer system somehow didn’t show my payment and the Cuban agent at the airport was anything but helpful. I had my doubts. I didn’t see any other traveler at the airport. I was flying from Santiago, the second largest airport in Cuba, to Santo Domingo on a Monday, but this was the only flight out of the airport in the afternoon. How many people fly to Santo Domingo on a Monday in low tourist season? Surely can’t be the package tourists. It would need to be independent travelers who decided to visit Cuba and the Dominican Republic. Maybe they were canceling the flight because there were so few people booked; I would never find out. Right after the flight take off time, the Cuban agent left the office. I was the only one there, talking with my agent to rearrange my travel plans. Phones would ring and I answered them. “I am a tourist here, and there is no one else in the office.†There I was, manning the phone for the Cuban national airline in the second largest airport because well, in a socialist country, people don’t work full time. Fortunately, plans worked out although my three and half days stay in D.R. got cut short to two days. I shared a flight with Cubans, who paid standard national fare 220 pesos (less than $10 USD) to fly from Santiago to Havana, and I was off to D.R. the next day.