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PNewL PNewS
Volume 20 No. 5 “All
the pnews that phits.” March 2013
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A Brief Visit to Cuba
This fall, I looked online for trips to Cuba. While I have found myself
on interesting trips learning cool stuff, I have been aware of my Bucket List
looming. It was time to address it and Cuba was on top. Then, Chris mentioned she
was going to Cuba. “Can I go?” my usual response to anyone’s travel plans—and
she said yes. Yay.
It was a quick trip--a few hours short of a full week, what with a
delayed flight. Cuba doesn’t seem to care about flight schedules. When we took
off from Miami, the pilot said something like Cuba is running a bit behind
today. We flew over on Sky King. How cool is that?
What we saw of Cuba was lovely. It’s the Caribbean! We stayed in some of
the nicest accommodations I have stayed in. An all-inclusive, just flash your
bracelet for a drink place at the beach. A sophisticated urban place in Havana.
But it was confusing and…that’s kinda how it continued. The sights were lovely,
the food was delicious, the music was ever-present. Buildings are crumbling,
folks on the beach come up rubbing their arms like they are washing—they want
soap…or anything spare you might have. (When the Soviet Union pulled out, one
day there were stores full of essentials—the next day, none. Rubbing their arms
represents their lack of…whatever you might have). Confusing.
To go to Cuba legally, one has to go with an organization that has a
license. Suffice it to say, we had a license. Our group was mostly artists as
there was time to paint. Never having hung out with painters, it was educational.
We had a very friendly knowledgeable and chatty guide (he actually managed to
talk the entire bus ride from one coast to the other—a total of five+ hours),
who had lived through much of what he talked about.
Highlights: A walk to a waterfall which fell into a large pool that was
the perfect temperature for swimming. In Havana, we spent a morning with Mario
who is an architect/public artist and has been very well connected throughout
the revolution and for generations before. He had a wonderful sense of humor
and didn’t mince words—my kinda guy. He talked a lot about the city’s
architecture and took us through the Colon cemetery—it’s like a city of
mausoleums. And of course, the time we had to just wander the streets of La
Habana Vieja was fab. Oh, and the food in the paladars (restaurants popping up
all over the city as entrepreneurship is being encouraged) was creative and
delicious. One was in a crumbling building (see the movie Strawberry &
Chocolate. It was in the building one of the main characters lived in), one was
in an upstairs apartment that had expanded out onto the roof and into other
nooks and crannies, and the last, in the home of the restaurateur’s
grandfather. We even ate off his plates. Oh, and Hemingway’s house:
lovely—highly livable sans the animal
heads. Our last night in Havana, we drove around in 1950-something convertibles
which was very fun and funny. All good.
And then there’s the confusing part. Part of the charm of Cuba is that
it’s falling apart, that they are doing such a remarkable job of keeping the
pre-Revolution cars on the road to drive tourists around. It’s that
tourism-in-an-impoverished-country conundrum. Mario commented about how the
buildings in the old town of Havana are being repaired (slowly) but the parts
outside of the tourist sections are where people live…and they are falling down
too, with no tourist money to fix them.
It has taken me a while to write this as I was confused about what to
say. I loved being there and can’t wait to go back. On the other hand, the part
we played in how it got to its current state—the part we might play in its
future… Not just “we” Americans but “we” tourists. Looking at photos and
re-reading my journal, my memories are cheerier—I have to cut myself some
slack. Bear died mere days before I left. It was not the best timing and so
things are a bit tainted in retrospect. In the end, I agree with a fellow
traveler: if you get a chance, go!
PS I watched the US Weather Channel while I was in Cuba. I
watched a serious ice storm aim right at the end of my trip: between Charlotte
and Asheville. What timing! When I got to Charlotte, it was an ice rink. The
man driving the shuttle said, pshaw—no problem. He dropped me in the satellite
lot for overflow which was no longer overfilled. I talked to Evie until my car
could defrost the ice that encased it. I decided to see if I could somehow slip
on home between the storm (no pun intended). Even the highways were icy. What
was I thinking? I have very limited driving experience in bad snow and ice. I
spent most of my adult life away from it. I do have confidence in my
driving…but that’s different. I got into an icy track on 321 and tested my
brakes about every 15 feet. The tension in my body was sparking. This was nuts.
As I came into Lincolnton, even semis were going under 25mph.
The next morning, I went to “breakfast” waiting for the temperature to
get above freezing. I shared a table with a woman (from Asheville who had
rented a car hoping they could drive home since planes weren’t flying) whose
best friend from college was Cuban. The friend’s family came over at the start
of the Revolution, thinking they were only leaving for a little while, wound up
never going back. Her father finally landed a position as a professor in a
small town in South Carolina. Her mother never learned English—never got over
leaving her home after 50+ years. That story has haunted me—funny how a chance
encounter can provide such insight.
The Extremely Large Hound: The final story
As many of you know, Bear left the planet on January 15th.
It was not a joyous peaceful experience—he fought it the whole way, leaving unpleasant
memories--and yet I still feel like we did the right thing. It has been surreal
since he left. I anticipate his nose at the door when I come home, I still look
at my watch to make sure I haven’t been gone too long, I notice things missing
on my list of things to do and the grocery list. And then there’s the part
where I am sewing more than I have in years, I can go from one thing to the
next without pausing at home for a visit with the big guy. I am planning lots
of away time before I ponder another dog. I have finally walked the hill and
the road without him—neither was easy or comfortable. I am going through the
process.
Before he died, we talked to another pet communicator. She was great.
She said he wants to come back to me…in a smaller package—he told her he was
too big for me to pick up and he really thinks I need a dog I can pick up. I am
comforted by the idea of him coming back.
Losing Bear has been almost as hard as losing my parents—and in some
ways, harder. I can pretend my parents are on a reallllllllly long trip because
they don’t live in my house. Bear was very much in residence. In each
situation, I have felt like this couldn’t happen to other people in this way
because we can’t all be walking around with this pain. But guess what? It does
and we are. I guess it’s what we do with ourselves going forward in honor of
those we have lost. Yeah, that’s the ticket. Onward and upward…soon.
I want to thank you for your kind thoughts and msgs, cards and yes, even
donations made in his memory. I was truly touched (the ironic mailings from
funeral parlors asking if I’d made my
plans which arrived in the midst were…ironic, and not appreciated as much).
Thanks.
Things I am Learning
& Miscellaneous Observations
• I think photos of food can be very iffy. When I get offers
for coupons at local restaurants, I am often repulsed by the photos even when I
know the food is good.
• I was cleaning up my paperwork to get ready for
taxes—actually making sure all of Quicken was categorized correctly and I felt
pretty good about things…until August. August, I didn’t bother to write who I
paid what. Amounts were there but no names, no categories. What the heck
happened in August???
• One last Bear story—well, it’s more about me (isn’t this
all?). When we walked, I found myself humming a lot and sometimes singing
aloud. I had a Oh my Darling Clementine version (“Big white horses Big white
horses big white horses in the field, they are right there where you left them,
big white horses in the field.” [The horses are not there any more.]). When
Bear got sick, a couple new ones came to mind: REM’s song (with a twist on the
lyrics) “It’s the end of the world as I know it and I’ll be fine” and then when
everyone said I would know when it was The Time for Bear to Go: Benton Wood
(?)’s “Gimme some kinda sign Bear.” Ok, that’s probably enough.
• I went to the movies the other day unexpectedly. I
suddenly had a free chunk of time and there was a theatre down the street. Yay.
But I was really hungry, and if I stopped for food I’d be late. I opted for
popcorn lunch. I do not buy movie popcorn because I worked in a movie theatre
and I know better. I did it anyway, for $5.75, fer crissakes. It was
unbelievably mediocre. I could only eat half of it which was probably a good
thing. I brought it home thinking I would snack on it later. Movie theatre
popcorn (or I should say THIS movie theatre popcorn) was bad enough in the
theatre…it was really bad at home.
• Last Saturday was one of those days. I have been in a bit
of a funk, and I think I might be coming out of it. The upswing may have started
Saturday. I was in my 9am Core Conditioning class. I like it because it is over
early in the day and it is EXACTLY the same every week. He even says the same
words, which I like early on a Saturday morning. This week he said one
different thing that has stuck. It was—as we were doing my least favorite
exercises—Be thankful for your two legs and two arms, that you have them and
you are able to move them this way. It really struck me. Things we take for
granted. Then I was with a new friend who told her story of coming to grips
with some sight loss. The doctor told her there was nothing else he could do. I
was wowed by the grace with which she seemed to be accepting it. She described
how she sees things--that she can only see through the lower half of her eye.
So I walked around with hands over my eyes and tried to imagine what it would
be like. She said she was grateful it was the lower half so she could read
comfortably and do things with her hands. I tried to imagine being grateful in
that way. She is a role model.
• After receiving an inordinate number of credit card
applications this past month, I finally looked at one—there is a PRESCREEN
& OPT OUT NOTICE! Apparently I missed this option which someone says became
available several years ago. It applies to insurance policies as well. May cut
down on the junk mail. Call 1-888-567-8688 or write to any of the reporting
agencies. After spending a silly amount of time shredding applications, it’s
worth a try.
• I believe I recycled a whole stack of undone crossword
puzzles, beautiful postcards I bought in Cuba, a sympathy letter to Richard, and
am wondering what else. This goes into the category: Sometimes I don’t like
being Me. (Note; Crossword puzzles are gone but I found the postcards—in the
box of tax paperwork! Yay)
• Bear hated taking pills. I mean hated. I sometimes think
he spit out more than I got down him. I tried everything. One vet tech
recommended cat food which worked like a charm until he started biting all the
fur off his butt due to allergies. Cream cheese worked very well for a while.
Finally, I realized, I had to shuffle the options so he never knew which treat
was going to contain the dreaded pill—and it worked. FYI.
• My new friend Sarah, a retired librarian and avid knitter,
recommended Cynthia Rylant’s Dog Heaven. If you lose a dog or know someone who
has, get it. It’s sweet.
• When I have a bad cold, good tissue makes all the
difference.
• Save the date: Angel Island #32. June 22. Perles Beach. Be
there or be square.
"As long as the world is turning and spinning, we’re gonna be
dizzy and we’re gonna make mistakes.” Mel Brooks
