PNewL PNewS 20.5

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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 15^th. 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.

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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