Tag: Caribbean

Our house, the party and the French lover who fled the country

Our first party in our wonderful house all went very well.  Everyone from the film school helped me to make it a success.  Maeda arrived with flowers to fill the house from San Antonio and then a team of caterers from the school arrived not long after with food for 70 people and a chirpy barman who set up the bar.  Havana friends all made it along and mixed really well so that I felt as though I wasn’t just the wife of the director and this was my house too!

This house is designed for parties, being right in front of the sea and having a bar in the garden.  Up until now the bar has been used to house the paddling pool and various toys and inflatables but that night a barman was whipping up cocktails served in Coco shells (Coco Locos!) a few mojitos and whisky, beer and wine, as well serving me up something cold and bubbly brought by my Habana girlfriends.

I have begun to realise that our house, which has been the Protocol house in Havana for the film school for 25 years, is quite a little gem.  It stands alone between a beach club used by the Cuban military and a huge ruin which most recently used to be the Institute of Oceanology (is that a word??).  Apparently there are not many houses so slap bang on the sea in Havana.  Many people don’t even know there is a house here even though they have lived in the area for years.  It is very close to the leafy suburban streets and diplomat houses of Flores and Cubanacan but seems to be from another world.  However, other people seem to know all about it and give me a knowing secretive look.

We are right at the end of Primer Avenida, el final, and as you drive the last block which looks forgotten and run down, it really does seem as though you have come to a dead end until you notice our unassuming house right in the corner.  I love opening the front door to people as they are immediately transfixed by the Caribbean sea sparkling behind me and Cubans being Cubans, they almost knock me out of the way to have a closer look.

I began to wonder in the first few weeks ……. who built this house?  Who did it used to belong to before the revolution or before the Film school?  As Cubans love to talk and tell a good story it didn’t take me long to find out that this house does have a history …….

I intend to find out more but this is the story so far.

For those of you who don’t know who Batista is ……. here is a little description from a JFK speech on the run up to his election in 1960 whilst criticising Eisenhower´s government.

Fulgencio Batista murdered 20,000 Cubans in seven years … and he turned Democratic Cuba into a complete police state – destroying every individual liberty. Yet our aid to his regime, and the ineptness of our policies, enabled Batista to invoke the name of the United States in support of his reign of terror. Administration spokesmen publicly praised Batista – hailed him as a staunch ally and a good friend – at a time when Batista was murdering thousands, destroying the last vestiges of freedom, and stealing hundreds of millions of dollars from the Cuban people, and we failed to press for free elections.

The house which has no number, is said to have been built in the early 50s for the French lover of someone pretty high up in Batistas pre-revolution government.  Whoever she was she must have been a real character as the beach next door to our little one (now the military club) was known as the Francesita (the little French one).  Bloody big house for one French flousy lady, but I thank her for my large walk in closet.  Evidently she fled before the revolution as she was part of a more corrupt and dangerous time in Cuban history depending upon which side your bread was buttered.  In the words of Arthur M Schlesinger when asked by the US government to analyse Batista’s Cuba.

The corruption of the Government, the brutality of the police, the regime’s indifference to the needs of the people for education, medical care, housing, for social justice and economic justice … is an open invitation to revolution.

But the architectural evidence of La Habana harks back to another time when dirty money was everywhere.  The beautiful ruin next door was also owned by one of Batista’s honchos who was enjoying regular meetings with Al Capone in his amazing palace with its huge private beach to discuss the blossoming future of the Mafia and more Casinos to be put into Club Habana, the beach club 5 minutes away which is where, somewhat ironically my children now have all their extra curricula activities!

I enjoy hearing about these pre-revolutionary days with the security of history and intend to find out more but I am glad that Fidel got rid of them all as after 8 years in Guatemala I know there is nothing remotely glamorous about gangsters or their girlfriends.  And my family now lives in a paradise of tranquility despite the undeniable economic problems.  I am not sure that even the Cubans realise what they have.

It could make a good film script though …….. somewhere down the line.  And gives me something else to think about as I sit in front of the sea looking at the beautiful trees which line the beach next door as the sun goes down.  Every night and most days people jump over the tumbling wall of this old mansion and get to the edge of the sea next door to us to fish and chat and watch the sea or whatever else they get up to.  (Rafa was rather horrified how many condoms got washed up on the beach the other day when the currents were not in our favour).

I wonder what parties have taken place in this house?  I need to investigate more ……….. just not sure how to yet.  I will leave you with the words of JFK, an American icon (Oct. 1963).

I believe that there is no country in the world including any and all the countries under colonial domination, where economic colonization, humiliation and exploitation were worse than in Cuba, in part owing to my country’s policies during the Batista regime. I approved the proclamation which Fidel Castro made in the Sierra Maestra, when he justifiably called for justice and especially yearned to rid Cuba of corruption. I will even go further: to some extent it is as though Batista was the incarnation of a number of sins on the part of the United States. Now we shall have to pay for those sins. In the matter of the Batista regime, I am in agreement with the first Cuban revolutionaries. That is perfectly clear.

Unfortunately, I think Guatemala is still paying for those sins.

 

 

My friend Tony says I can come round and use his zippy satelite internet connection whenever I want ……… so I may be able to post some photos soon!

Home is where the heart is.

Home is where the heart is, that´s what they say.  But what exactly does that mean?

For Sale. The Chair Rafa has rocked for the last 7 years ......

 

 

A few days before my present home will be torn apart and broken up I have this weird nesting feeling.  I want to enjoy these last few weeks in my little home before I have the task of making a home somewhere else.  When I look at the larger items I think, well yes I know that some big strong men are going to come and take them away or we will sell them ……. but it is the endless amount of little things that are stressing me out.

I do not see myself as any kind of domestic goddess or material girl obsessed with possessions but I do know how to put my stamp on a home and make it cosy and personal.  Now that I am looking around my present home and imagining that in a matter of days all this will be gone: sold, given away or heading on a truck to Puerto Barrios to cross the Caribbean and meet with the famous Cuban customs, it moved me to reflect on the many moves and homes of my life.

So here is the list of my many homes:

North Yorkshire England 11 Years, Co Durham England 7 years, Newcastle-upon-Tyne England 6 months, Dormagen West Germany 6 months, Nottingham England 3 years, South London 6 months, Rambouillet France 6 months, Paris France 2 years, Wissant France 1 year, West London 3 years, The Peak Hong Kong 1 year, East London 5 years, Antigua Guatemala 4 months, Buenos Aires 1 month (short but it felt like home!), San Lucas Guatemala 1 year, Antigua Guatemala 1 year, San Pedro El Alto Guatemala 5 years …………and now La Habana Cuba 4 years and then who knows ……. because we don´t.

So I have been in my present home 5 years, quite a chunk of my life and lasting early memories for my boys.  Two out of my three children learned to walk here.  All 3 of them learned to talk here.  One of our cats was born here.  I went to 5 Icaro film festivals whilst living here and twice to Guadalajara festival.  We had visitors from all over the world sleeping in our little guest room.  We had a few good parties in the garden, some planned some not!  I grew a lot of flowers and herbs.  We had too many piñatas!!  I painted walls and tables.  Threw together quite a few meals in my tiny kitchen.  Designed my own furniture and had some made.  We lit fires and sat by the fireplace many nights.  Paulo lost 3 of his teeth here.  Saskia was conceived here.  We all survived Agatha the storm and a whole load of other stuff ……..

A favourite corner of our garden

So what does it really mean to be a homemaker?  For a lot of us women it sounds like a nasty 50s concept of being a wife but to me it means something more.  For me it is how you make your home feel, as though it has a heart and soul.  A place people want to come round to see you.  Primarily, a place where your family can be safe and happy and together.

We had a message last week that Cuba will not let us move our things to Cuba.  I spent 24 hours horrified that I would have to sell all my precious and personal things and arrive in Cuba with a couple of suitcases and 3 kids.  Was I a material girl or a sentimental nomad clinging on to my possessions like an orphan?

If Cuba possessed Ikea, ToyRUs, Ebay and the packa it could be possible to tell the children wave goodbye to your bicycles, your strange items of artwork, your favourite toys but alas Cuba is not a place you go to buy stuff and whatever stuff you do find it does not come cheap.  Right now this family does not own a property anywhere in the world and soon, for a few weeks, we truly will be homeless all 5 of us.  but we don´t have much!  Which means that what we do have means a lot to us.

Was I being a material girl?  I felt like a princess insisting on moving my caravan of possessions!  What about the Lego, the wooden train set brought down from New York in the suitcase of a noble friend, all my pictures and photos?  The second hand books bought and trafficked back to Guate in my suitcase.  My sofa from San Juan that I designed with all my love, imagining the hours I would spend on it with my children.  The salvaged old cupboard in the living room that Rafa rescued.  Our old door coffee table that has seen many spillages and naughty boys climbing all over it.  Our incredibly comfortable bed that we love to come home to.  Saskia´s cot that has been in Rafa´s family for decades used by all my children.  The boys matching blue wooden beds given to them by their abuelos and Tia Maria Luisa, lovingly restored and painted ………….

Maybe I am a bit of material girl but my beautiful things are not worth a great deal of money to anyone else but us,  and they all have their stories.   As the song goes ……… these are a few of my favourite things.  I am not willing to lose or leave them in a warehouse to rot or be forgotten in a country where we do not live anymore.

Does this sofa and table look flashy??!

 

Rafa is not a man who enjoys consuming, he prides himself on his lack of possessions.  I was a little nervous that he would make me feel un-buddhist but now the father and the husband knows his family needs their things to feel at home.

So we have decided to take our stuff, the things we need or love and see what trials and tribulations we will have to go through to get them into Cuba.  One option we have been told is to file much of the children´s toys and clothes as future donations – fantastic I said.  This I am more than happy to do, its what I do anyway.  When we leave Cuba in 4 years the children will be older and we can shed quite happily all the stuff they have grown out of.

Anyway, we are still waiting to see if we will get permission to enter Cuba with our things if not we are stuck with the lottery of customs and keeping our fingers crossed that we get a nice one on a good day.  Otherwise we may end of very out of pocket.

But please Cuba, we are not flash or ostentatious capitalists just a very normal (??) family of 5.  And Cubans,  I would love to invite you round to sit on my beloved sofa and have a cup of my English tea in one of my English china mugs given to me by my Aunt.  I will even bake you a Victoria sponge with jam and cream in my cake tin bought in Guate.  I promise …..

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