One year in Cuba …. the best telenovela!

I missed my one year anniversary here in Cuba.  It was August 14th when we arrived last year so I am summing things up a little late, partly due to not having much time to get on line; and also we were all in a temporary dip in our enthusiasm for our life here.  The telenovela had become a little bit too gritty and I was too hot and bothered!

Now we are back up, and I am enjoying my Cuban life again just as I did when I first arrived.  I am still not tired of meeting film makers and teachers and dancing with the students at the film school or getting dressed up and going to diplomatic parties in beautiful venues, palaces and hotels in Havana.  I am still meeting interesting people from all over the world and making good friends and I still have so many things to write about and to do that I am always busy.

Rafa gave me an official role at the film school which I was already doing.  I just wanted the acknowledgement and a card saying ….  International Public Relations, which means I get to talk to anybody and everybody about how great the film school is.  Not a difficult task.  But I too have other little projects like trying to get more African students, not easy but we are making progress and collecting contacts.  I also enjoy meeting and entertaining the visiting teachers who are a very important part of what makes the school unique.  We have around 40 teachers who come every month from everywhere ……. Spain, UK, France, Mexico, Brazil, Argentina, US, to name a few …….. over a year that adds up!

After a year of good and bad domestic experiences, I now have my lovely Mayda running the house and the parties and the shopping and the maintenance and the children. She does it so well that there are days when I feel as though I am living in a hotel.  If there is one thing I would like to do for her in the time I am here, it is to reunite her in some way with her daughter and only child who left with her husband on a boat 4 years ago.  A classic Cuban story, Mayda is too young to be allowed to visit her in the States and her daughter was recently denied her entry back into Cuba to visit.  Her son-in-law was given permission to come back but not her daughter and they both shed many tears of disappointment.

Mayda to me represents the good side of Cuba.  She works hard, always has a smile and a kind word and is loyal, funny and noble.  Some days I have to force her to sit down and eat a proper lunch as she never thinks about herself, just how she can make my family’s life better.  She is the one who has consoled me when times have been tough, and my decision to promote her and recognise her work, I hope will help in some financial way, to reunite her with her daughter.

The boys are happy in school and reading and speaking French which makes me so proud.  They now have Cuban accents when speaking Spanish and supported every Cuban athlete in the Olympics.  In fact during the Olympics it was fun to see how they supported UK, Cuba, France, Guatemala (got their first medal!!) and of course Jamaica (on the grounds that it used to be British and was in the Caribbean and they had Bolt!).

And how do I feel about Cuba?  Life is never boring and I have learnt a lot about humanity and life and love already.  I know I will always defend the Cuban people for their fun and their intelligence and their ability to resolve their lives no matter what the world or the state throw at them.  You have to admire their resilience.  I hope that all the good things that they represent can shine through all the corruption and unfairness that can make life bitter sweet.  I also hope that the Bling Blings don’t take over and turn the country back to what it was becoming in ’59 except this time with Reggaeton and Dolce and Gabana fakes.  Please Cubans learn how to do business without selling your daughters and your soul and keep your own quintessential style, don’t copy from the mainland.

Now I am planning my trip back to the UK with my Saskia to see her Grandma (not Granma!) and family and godmothers and good old friends who have patiently kept in touch with me and my life over all these years.  For those who don’t get the joke see link.  Granma was the name of the yacht that transported Fidel and Che and the others to Cuba in 1956 and has since become the name of a province and a newspaper.  The boat itself was restored and can now be seen outside the Museum of the Revolution in Havana.  I find it a little ironic that such an icon of the Revolution is a misspelled American word because we spell it correctly in England with a d!

 

 

 

1950’s wife in Havana

1950s woman

I don’t know what it is about my life right now but I feel like a 1950’s wife.  Is it Cuba or is it being the wife of the director of the film school or a bit of both?

It is true that life in Cuba in many ways has stood still since 1959.  The most obvious icon is of course, the 1950’s car.  There is something Madmen-esque about this world, even down to the Lucky Strikes, a world where men are men, like Don Draper.  Ice cream parlours, art deco hotel bars, trilby hats, cigars, sling back shoes, hourglass figures, no traffic, slow traffic………. And the music.

When my friend asked for some more modern music at a party the other day the DJ responded with the line.  In Cuba we are about memoria.  I disagree; I think Cubans should be shouting from their crumbling rooftops that CUBA IS THE FUTURE and the future’s so bright you gotta wear shades.  Otherwise Cuba will sell its soul to the capitalist devil along with Che memorabilia and black market cigars.  And Cuba I really do hope you find your modern soul and get yourselves a future, I do, I do, I do …..

Another favourite expression I heard before I arrived was that your heels get higher and your dresses tighter in Cuba.  I am not sure what that says about the island but I definitely have acquired a couple of pairs of heels since arriving to get me to the many receptions to which I am invited.  And yes I have dusted down some of my more feminine outfits, which did not see the light of day on the dusty or damp streets of backpacker, American tourist town Antigua.  More opportunities to get glamorous here definitely.

Are Cuban men more chauvinist, more machista than your average Puerto Rican, Mexican or Venezuelan man?  I’m not sure.  For me machismo is rife all over the Latin world, you don’t need to come to Cuba particularly to sample this cultural phenomenon.

However there was a Cuban documentary on the TV the other day just titled Los Machos.  It appeared to be a celebration of all things male.  Lots of images of good looking guys hanging out in the streets chatting, back slapping, playing dominoes, talking baseball……. laughing.  Just generally making that whole thing of being a man in Cuba look pretty damn cool!  There were even some very cute images of Cuban Dads with small beautiful children staring up into their eyes with love and admiration for their father’s tender manliness!

Obviously it wasn’t a serious or realistic documentary as I didn’t see any images of fat men with their T-shirts rolled up to reveal their sweaty large bellies or angry men clouting their young children for crying for a toy, like I saw in the plastic toy shop on quinta the other day.  The shop was full and nobody said a word except me.  I was so shocked and angry I had to tell him…well done, you’re a really strong man ……. Muy muy macho, muy fuerte! As I was watching the tears of confusion and shame fall down the cheeks of his toddler son.

But, truth be told, in general, Cuban men are an attractive bunch and their charm and seduction generally a little more subtle and laid back then many other races I have come across in my years of living abroad and travelling.  But I am getting old, and now a mother of 3, so maybe I am no longer a typical target for any lustful lewdness anyway!

Although apparently according to some of the students at the film school I am La rubia con lo mejor swing ……… which is a very Cuban way of looking at things.  It is not just about what you’ve got but how you move it!  And unlike my husband I like to think that I am the one with the best swing who just happens to be blonde rather than the one with the best swing out of a small subsection of blondes.  Yes, yes I know I am clutching at straws but we all need to clutch at straws sometimes to lift the ego.

But I digress, why do I feel like a 1950’s wife and mother?  Is it an accumulation of many years of devoting myself to my husband and my children partly because I wanted to and partly because I didn’t have much choice if I wanted this family to stay together, and I did.  Most days I see the upside of the story.  I am lucky to have been able to be with them so much, I have always been provided for, I have had many wonderful experiences and adventures with my family, I have enjoyed the added bonus of a husband with an interesting job.  No boring corporate partners dinners for me, just film festivals and parties and interesting film-makers both old and new.  So I should be grateful for this life and happy to be with my children guiding them though their bi-lingual, bi-cultural upbringing.  And I am very proud of them when their bickering and whining has not ground me down.   The global mother of 3.

But on the other hand I have been feeling suffocated.  Suffocated with the never-ending domestic trials and tribulations of living in Cuba and it feels like I have fallen into the last century.  I have 8 people that come and work in my house (I know it is ridiculous, believe me!) and I still feel as though I never have time for anything, or any time to myself.  If it is not my children that want my time it is my employees who need me to solve their problems.  I have still, after nearly a year, failed to turn that dynamic around ……. I want them to resolve all my problems and leave me free for the fun stuff and the stuff that is purely mine.

Oh in the mists of time I did have a career, I was going places, I was meeting interesting psychologists and sociologists.  My ideas about the creative career were bouncing around and taking me into new greenfield areas of research.

I have been wistfully thinking about my last summer in London when the sun shone, I cycled everywhere, did want I wanted, had an intellectual life, a career, people wanted to talk to me or help me, or collaborate with me because of my ideas and my research not because I was the wife of somebody.

Anyway …….. I took photos of the most amazing sunset last night, we have lots of friends flying in for the film school graduation and parties, we will get to have a holiday soon for all the family, I live in a beautiful house on a beach and I have a husband I love and loves me and takes care of me  ……. and I have the best swing  … sometimes.

But rising slowly up from the ashes is that feminist that I had forgotten about, the one that got out there and grabbed every opportunity going for herself, grabbed the moment and her own money ……. and she will be back, and she already has lots of ideas up her sleeve, just got to go downstairs and sort out the drama of the temperamental 1950’s plumbing and the drains in the kitchen which have flooded, but I’ll be back with more gutsy feminist adventures soon ……. I promise 😉