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Feeling hot hot hot!

Summer has hit Havana big time. It is steaming and I have now totally submitted myself to the world of air con, seeking shade and ventilation whenever I can. The air is heavy and I feel a weight pressing down on me. I am listless and without energy and trying to wear as little as possible without letting too much of my 43 year old body hang out! (My Thai friend and dress designer has been whipping me up some nice little summer frocks).

I have to mop the sweaty foreheads of my children. I go out at night with a fan. I get sweat stains on my bras (I know!), I open the glass doors to the sea in the morning and no cool breeze welcomes me. The sea is like a tepid clear soup and I can see little stripy fish and small rays darting through the shallows.

I have also been without a nanny this last month. Although I liked Sonia I was beginning to doubt her effectiveness at dealing with the job. The things she promised never materialised, she clearly did not enjoy cooking and I needed someone more steady, tenacious, patient and in some ways more appropriate! One little example ….. She had taken it upon herself to take the boys to the supermarket round the corner and buy her feminine hygiene supplies in their company, at the same time explaining about the whole menstruation story, which I was not quite sure was her place or their time. Pretty horrifying stuff for 6 and 7 year old boys. They have not mentioned it to me so I am hoping that they were not paying too much attention, maybe too busy having a fight or trying to buy sweets or icecream.

Anyway this was the first time I really had to sack someone who has worked so closely with me, but once it was done, she marched straight out the door without a backward glance and I felt an incredible sense of relief. I had muttered stuff about what a great person she was but she was not the one for me and how it wasn’t working out …….. like a teenager trying to let down softly their school sweetheart.

The first couple of weeks I felt content, alone with my brood, washing up an awful lot, but peaceful, serene even (no really!). Now the novelty is wearing off and I want my freedom back. No time to write, no time to investigate the new world of DJs in Habana, no time to nurture my wonderful new friendships, no time for much and on top of being a slavish hands-on Mum I have to find the time to deal with the administration aspects of the film school which requires a lot of patience and tenacity. I have plenty of the latter but not much of the former. I have been interviewing many nice women determined that this one will be the right one. Phew!

My garden is taking shape too, which is exciting. The back of the house which faces onto the sea, I can plant nothing pretty as the salt and the wind burns it all so I am turning the entrance on the road side into my colourful sun trap of flowers and hanging baskets. Such things make me happy and Cuban garden centres are deliciously cheap and cheerful.

I am spending too much time cleaning up the poo and pee of the dog and the daughter. The puppy just seems to want to sneak into the house to seek out my Guatemalan wool rugs as her toilet. Saskia is getting the hang of the potty but is at times a little too enthusiastic as she rushes around proudly showing to anyone interested (mainly me) how it brims with steaming turd and a coulis of hot pee. Accidents happen!

Moving swiftly on to another topic ……. a supposedly hot shot American Hollywood director flew into town in his private jet acting like some kind of diva who needed to be received by everyone including my husband. He spent 3 days at the film school and was not an easy guest, asking many pert and naive questions. Doug Liman made Swingers, Mr and Mrs Smith and the Bourne films. Also the TV series The OC for those who like the latest Dawson Creek type offering about rich angst-ridden Californian teenagers.

He seemed to think that the film school would be delighted to accommodate him and they did in a most gracious manner, even though they had no idea what he was doing there. As requested, they showed his first film Swingers to the students and 10 turned up, of which a handful left half way through and the others snuck out before the credits had finished (ie no questions to ask the director) leaving Rafa clearing his throat and suggesting a beer in the bar. I wonder if he realised that the film school has received some truly great independent film directors in the last few months as always and are not easily impressed by the Hollywood machine although Spielberg, Lucas, Coppola amongst others have all visited. Doug’s parting shot to Rafa was: Be prepared we are coming back. We were not quite sure how to take that mysterious comment……. some kind of Hollywood film bay of pigs attack!?

More parties parties parties. My first proper dinner in the house, another monthly party for all the visiting teachers and students from workshops. Our friends the Norwegian Ambassador and his Mexican husband threw a couple of parties this month in their beautiful house round the corner from us. Norwegian day of the constitution also happened to co-incide with the international day against homophobia and less appropriately the Cuban day for campesinos (loosely translated as farmers, yokels or peasants depending on the context). There was a big lunch for all the workers on the film school farm which Rafa attended. Guzman the boss made a point of saying that these campesinos were definitely not gay! Or at least if they were they would never admit it ….

Stephen Bayley, successful British film director and the ex-director of the National Film school in the UK was back in town giving his extremely popular and successful workshops on the Meisner technique for actors and directors. The Cubans love him! They get enthusiastic and happy and at times even tearful and emotional when he is around. We threw a party for him after one of the performances in the Bertolt Brecht theatre in Vedado on a breezeless balcony.

Last night it was the British Embassy party in the amazingly beautiful residence in Vedado. I big turn out of diplomats but I spent most of the night hanging out with Stephen and the Cubans actors, musicians and DJs who are becoming my friends. Rafa had been climbing in the Sierra Maestra with some documentary students from the film school and was waiting for me tucked up in bed after an exhausting few days. And then the air con in our bedroom broke ……….. phew. Feeling hot hot hot!!

Still Cuba intrigues, surprises and seduces me ………. what the future holds nobody knows. People speculate and talk a lot about what the changes will bring. which is one of the things I will always love about Cubans. You can disagree but once you talk and talk you usually both end up with a smile on your face. People don’t get aggressive or shirty. Just shrug your shoulders and have another cold Mojito, life’s too short to get angry or upset. I’m learning …………….

Gilles Peterson, the Bienal and the art of dancing

Rafa was in Venezuela signing some important film agreement and the Bienal was in full swing. The biggest art show in town, and its not just about art. There are some crazy performances, lots of good music, a few parties ………. and of course plenty of art to keep everybody happy from the most commercial to the most ridiculous.

I managed to get to La Cabaña, the old fort over-looking Havana Vieja, on Sunday with the boys, where most of the art of the Bienal was being displayed in various interlinking rooms of the huge venue. The boys were more interested in the cannons and climbing the walls of the fort but some of the more impactful visual stuff grabbed their attention. A room of mirrors, a room of wooden boats standing on their sides of varying sizes, some amazing interactive sculptures in the courtyards and various other cositas like the painting of the crying boxer!

Unrelated to the craziness of the Bienal, I bought a photo of the Malecon from a student of ISA. He arrived a little late round to my house where I was waiting with the photo for him to sign and me to pay. He told me that a whole street in Havana Vieja had been closed as naked people sprayed bronze walked up and down. He had been taking photos of the nudes and the faces of the Cuban public, who although used to seeing scantily clad people walking around town, were rather aghast at the nakedness!

I headed out to a party of an artist friend in his beautiful house in Vedado with some friends. We stopped off at the National Hotel to pick up a journalist on the way and had a quick drink on the garden terrace overlooking the bay before heading back into the leafy residential streets of Vedado. When we arrived the beautiful ruined house was already full of people and the music was pretty good out in the garden. I bumped into Havana friends and foreign journalists and people working at Havana Club rum (who seemed to be sponsoring a lot of stuff), lots of artists and random music people.

I was just thinking I should be getting home when I saw a very familiar face across the room. I had this strong feeling that he was British and that I knew him. A friend of a friend from London maybe? I approached him and asked him where he was from. England. What are you doing here? I’m a DJ and I’m playing at the inauguration party tomorrow. Excellent I thought, as he slipped out the door alone, no DJ gang to be seen. That’s Gilles Peterson, said a friend. I knew he looked familiar!

I managed to case the party and find 3 invites for the following night for myself and a couple of friends. With Rafa out of town I set up my young babysitter and her mother in the house so I could dance all night! And it was worth it, I needed to dance.

Gilles is a name in the UK. He has been a bastion of late night Radio 1 for what seems like the last 15 years. His serious of albums titled Worldwide where all about mixing world rhythms with his own take on drum and bass.

He recently visited Cuba and cut a record with some famous musicians and DJs and put his finger on the pulse of new Cuban music. I am still not in a position to say if he got his finger right on the pulse, but I like Gilles. He does his own thing and he appreciates differences. I kept bumping into him at the party and he was always alone. People watching, absorbing the atmosphere. He didn’t need to have a crowd of people around him and was happy to talk to anybody and everybody.

The venue was the Sala Rosada de La Tropical, a huge outside venue with a sweeping staircase going down to the auditorium. It was a hot night and everyone was quite sweaty dancing. I can’t believe I was worried about my hair before I went out because by the end of the night it was a rather attractive sweaty wet mass and for some reason people kept taking my photo. Gilles had introduced the evening ….. Gilles Peterson presenta La Havana Cultura Band, some live music from Danay Suarez, Osdalgia, Roberto Carcasses amongst others. Gilles himself rolled out a pretty good set and the Cuban DJs that followed also kept me dancing. Names to look out for Wichy de Vedado and DJ Simbad.

To wrap up with a quote from Mr Peterson:

“Having spent the last three years travelling regularly to Havana I’ve understandably become more attached to this fascinating, almost otherworldly city. I’m also slowly getting to grips with the relationship music has here with the spirits and its people… the drum goes deep.”
Gilles Peterson

The Drum goes deep …………. I like that!

More school holidays and a new puppy!

This is the worst time of year for a mother at the French school. They seem to go holiday crazy. I have only just recovered from a 2 week break; remember our jaunt to Viñales? And then I had to take the boys out of school when it actually was Easter so we could go to a wedding in Guatemala, and then I get back for another 2 weeks holiday.

All these holidays without Papa. But the man has a big job to do I know, and I have a lot of help available to me but the bottom line is there are only 2 parents and parenting can only be done by the parents. Sometimes too many helpers can cloud the already tricky area of getting the discipline and love balance right. There are some aspects of being a Mum or a parent that are the same no matter where you are in the world, or how rich or poor you are.

Right now I have two boys who no matter what I ask them their response is …Who cares? or just plain brazen NO. I am feeling worn down, useless, ineffective, negotiation skills failing ridiculously.

On top of all that I am always under pressure to think about where I am going to get my next packet of nappies. Saskia is beginning to show signs of wanting to use her potty but still you just can’t rush these milestones, rites of passage, whatever you want to call them! I believe in celebrating every little achievement and at the moment when she ‘achieves’ anything in the potty, the whole family jumps around as though she has just scored a goal against Germany in the world cup. However I am not looking forward to the sleepless nights of sheet and pyjama changing and the inevitable accidents when you find yourself scraping poo off the most unimaginable places. Maybe our recently acquired puppy will be helping out with a bit of poo cleaning??!

Yes, it is day 2 of the holiday and we have inadvertently acquired a puppy. A very small one, called Lila. We headed up to Habana Vieja yesterday for some adventures, just me and the boys. Saskia is still in her nursery and has her sleep after she gets home so we headed off late morning leaving Saskia in good hands. We had lunch in Plaza Vieja, 2 very good hamburgers for the boys and half a pint of lager, brewed on the premises for me. I also had the mother’s pleasure of eating up their left over salad and bread. I enjoyed chatting with some British tourists whilst the boys chased the pigeons around the square. Then we pottered around looking at art, going to the mini model Habana Vieja museum, the Natural History Museum where we played drafts in the children’s room. At some stage in the afternoon Paulo came to give me a hug and tell me that he and Nico had decided that they were going to be really good during these holidays. Really I said, nervously waiting for the punchline or negotiation that never came.

The boys bought funny postcards, some Cuban chocolates and spent a few minutes looking at the rather over priced collection of tie pins in Plaza de las Armas. As I was dragging them tired through the streets back to the car, I stopped for some flowers as I saw some beautiful lilies. Arms full of flowers and bags of popcorn I noticed that there was a photography exhibition in the gardens of San Francisco church. Just one last adventure I thought. Next thing I knew we were in possession of a ridiculously small and cute little puppy, named Lila after the flowers Mummy was carrying. It seems people come and leave their unwanted animals in this church and this one had been living in the churchyard for 2 weeks. Apparently after two weeks they are booted back onto the streets again. I am not sure how true this all was, but it did not make much difference, there was no refusing the boys pleading faces. Arms full of flowers and exhausted they had an easy target and it didn’t take much before we were driving down the malecon with a new puppy. Anyway, nothing wrong with a bit of serendipity when it comes to acquiring children and pets! 😉 Now just got to get rid of all the other unwelcome guests that have come along with street puppy ……. flees, parasites and worms ……. and Saskia just wants to kiss her all the time. hmmm hmm.

Today a neighbour came to give the boys some extra Maths classes and then they escaped to my nannies house to ride their bikes in the park and go to the Aquarium whilst I hang out with Saskia and try to write during her siesta ……….. I will try to escape with the boys for another adventure outside Havana next week. Have managed to line up some extra French classes too so things are panning out!

Cuban cinema, my first forages …….

I am so lucky to have access to a wonderful film library, reputedly one of the best in Latin America. My husband is the director of one of the most unique film schools in the world and this has some benefits! Luciano who heads up the library is a wise man of Latin cinema, who gives me tips and opinions along with the lovely chatty women who work there and know the films and the gossip.

My progress through the library is slow but sure. Having 3 children and quite an active social life means that I cannot race. I began by educating myself with some Cuban classics and it was a good way of learning a few of the important names in Cuban cinema. I don’t have the internet power or ability to put links to all these films but you all do so ……….

Memorias de Subdesarollo directed by Tomas Gutierrez Alea is set in the wake of the Bay of Pigs incident. Sergio is a bourgeois aspiring writer who decides to stay in Cuba even though his wife and many friends have fled to Miami. Sergio reflects in his voiceovers on the changes happening in Cuba from the revolution to the missile crisis. He feels alone in a brave new world and continues chasing beautiful women all over Havana. The cool style of the film for me was really reminiscent of the nouvelle vague films of the 60s that I watched in Paris 20 years ago. Jean Luc-Godard being my favourite. The way the two main characters meet and the farcical relationship that ensues reminded me a little of A Bout de Souffle (Breathless). But there are many things that are quintessentially Cuban and very atmospheric. As a socially historical document it is well worth a watch.

I followed this with Lucia, a Cuban classic but without subtitles and Rafa I could not do justice to this great film. I need to watch it again in a year or so and with a Cuban. The images of the nuns being raped in the early part of the film, took my breath away. Just be warned. Its hard hitting stuff!

Solas created one of the most important works in the nascent feminist cinema of the period. Told in three segments, set in 1895, 1932, and in the heady years just after the Revolution,Lucia is an epic of Cuban history. The three Lucias are literally, different women, each of their stories combining into a larger narrative of slow, painful progress for Cuba, less as a nation than as a society. The three Lucias each offer different visions of class; Solas deftly links concern with economic materialism to character growth and change, in the process transforming that often very bourgeois cinematic genre, the family melodrama, into a platform for social investigation.

I was lucky enough to meet one of the Lucia’s in my early days in Havana, Eslinda Nuñez. I did not realise I was chatting with a Cuban icon on a night out at the Mexican embassy, I was just impressed by a beautiful and elegant woman, so easy to talk to and unpretentious. I hope to meet her again soon.

De Cierta Manera (One way or Another) is the only feature film of the late great Sara Gomez. It is set in the residential district of Miraflores built by the Revolution for the inhabitants of the shantytown on the outskirts of Havana known as Las Yaguas. What I loved about this film was how the director mixed real documentary footage with actors and fiction. This authentic technique was way before its time and a brilliant social document. The film attempts to reveal the new reality that the Revolution has placed within the reach of a previously marginalized sector of the Cuban population. The director mixes shots of the demolition of dilapidated tenements with the building of new houses and apartment blocks.

A metaphor for replacing an old socio-economic order with a new value system and the aspirations of a new society in construction. Through the three protagonists she explores the evolution within the social environment looking at the old capitalist hangovers of individualism, false values and friendships and chauvinism.

I was chatting away with a friend, who has been living in Cuba nearly 12 years, at my sons rugby match a few weeks ago and he mentioned a film that was made famous as it was banned by Fidel in the 60s and prompted Fidel’s famous line: Within the revolution everything; against the revolution, nothing. A strange line, and I am still trying to grasp exactly what he meant other than: stay faithful to the Revolution but that seems a bit obvious and nothing to do with the subject matter of this film. Anyway the copy of the film that I got from the film school opened with this line. PM is only 14 minutes long; Rafa and I watched it together and loved it. It captures beautifully in black and white, fly on the wall photography, one night out in Havana over 50 years ago. And well, some things just don’t change. The music, the drunks, the food vendors, the prostitutes, the bars, the musicians, the lovers. It was screened on Cuban TV at the time but never made it to cinema.

The makers of PM, Orlando Jiménez Leal and Sabá Cabrera Infante (brother of writer Guillermo Cabrera Infante) later went into exile and the film became, bizarrely, the most controversial and invisible film in the history of Cuban cinema. Recently it was screened without any comment or fuss in a Cuban cinema and I am told that you can find it on YouTube in two parts.

I got another Cuban classic but thinking more of my boys who have had a poster on their wall since pretty much Paulo was born: Vampiros en la Habana. For anyone who doesn’t know, Cuban film posters are wonderful. They have their own inimitable style and make great art. A perfect present from Havana where there is not always too many nice things to buy as gifts unless you are in the know and can get away from the people hawking tired cliché Cuban rubbish and cigars.

Vampiros en Habana is an animation classic but without subtitles and a very fast storyline I was struggling and left it to my bilingual sons, who enjoyed it after feeling initially uncomfortable that it wasn’t a cartoon that resembled Disney or Pixar. Other great Cuban films for children include Cannes prize winner Viva Cuba by our friend Cremata and the recently successful Habanastation.

After this I decided to have a break from Cuban films as I had been walking down the corridor at the film school and looking at all the posters of the graduates. I had already seen 2 or 3 but couldn’t wait to get started on the others. So read the next post to find out more ……..

E for Entertainment Cuba style

Cultural life in Havana is very good and there is always enough things going on to please anybody. Beyond that there is always spontaneity and good music and parties to be joined. Cubans are an educated bunch and they put culture way up on the list and they all love to chat!

I actually enjoy watching Cuban TV and we have felt no desire to try to get cable or satelite. Firstly there are no adverts. Can you imagine what a pleasure that is!! In Guatemala I was forced to watch more adverts on cable TV than actual programming. It was something that I resented a lot. Here I have to deal with a few Cuban public service announcements, which I usually find either entertaining or interesting and they never interrupt a good film. To name a few ……the one about how to get rid of bugs in your house and fumigation. The one about how you shouldn’t use public transport when you are drunk and leery and others involving manners and how to respect your fellow Cubans. Endless tributes to Jose Marti and the heroes of the revolution, and actually relatively little on Fidel. Emotional pleas to free the Cuban 5, imprisoned in the US without a proper trial and many more, short exerts about beautiful parts of Cuba you should visit etc etc …….

The programming is pretty good. I enjoy the many discussion shows on art and literature and social topics. Interviews with interesting Cuban and visiting Latin personalities. The famous Mesa Redonda (the round table) tends to be more national social, geopolitical or economic discussion so I can’t say I sit watching that too much but Rafa tunes in from time to time.

Last night I watched a discussion about being a single parent on another chat show (this one is triangular) hosted by somebody who works at the film school. Interesting and good for my Spanish! I watch Cuban news, which is not bad for such an apparently isolated country, they cover more international topics than in Guatemala. I have seen many good films, independent, foreign language (although can be tricky reading Spanish subtitles whilst listening to Bollywood Indian or German science documentaries) and also a handful of better Hollywood films. Such US things as CSI, Private Practice, Seinfeld and White Collar have appeared too.

International sports events that Cubans take part in are pretty well covered. When we arrived we had international athletics, the Panamerican games from Guadalajara, and lots of baseball which Rafa likes to dip into although I still haven’t got a clue what they are up to. It seems to me like the epitome of male narcisism. The way the pose and wiggle before every move like preening peacocks twitching and pulling at the tight pants in a jerky dancy fashion.

Also it goes without saying that you can watch an awful lot of good music from all over the world as well as Cuban. On Sunday I watched Adele playing live at the Royal Albert Hall. A week before I watched an amazing performance by the Cuban Symphony orchestra outside in a beautiful square possibly in Havana. All the musicians were pretty good looking which can’t help but add to the experience! And the children’s TV on the, what appears to be legitimately pirate channel of MV is a great mixture of BBC, Discovery kids and a bit of Mexican TV but blissfully advert free. So my children don’t spend half their time saying Mummy I want that and that and that for my next Birthday/Christmas!

I have been able to take the children to see 4 wonderfully professionally produced plays, last week was a French musical organised for the week of francophonie in Vedado. I took the boys to a pyjama story time party at their school. We took them to see two Dutch films during the week of Dutch cinema. All this is without even checking the ads in the paper. Not a week goes by without some country having a week of their independent cinema. I made it to a couple in British Cinema week, next week is Iran. I have been invited to Norwegian, Belgian , Canadian, Brazilian, Danish … and oh so many other film weeks that I can’t remember. I have never had to check the listing page of any newspapers in Rafa’s position we tend to get invited to most things.

As always, I do want to check out more music nights though, it is just finding the time and the energy!

Oh yes, and the Pope arrived last week for a flying visit to Havana and Santiago. Can’t say I would have been rushing down and fighting the crowds for that particular event. But I am happy for all the Cuban catholics who were terribly excited! And that he persuaded Fidel that Good Friday should be a holiday in Cuba!

My next two posts will be my attempts at reviewing all the wonderful independent cinema that I am able to watch and access. So get ready for my reviews on some great films from Cuba, South America, Spain and UK.

Cuba blogging

I am not sure who reads my blog. I never check the statistics, not even sure if I know how. I don’t do all the right things to promote it to the blogging community. I don’t read many other blogs and put my address, even less so now I am in Cuba. In fact I am always quite amazed when I meet someone who reads my blog who I don’t know, especially if they tell me that they enjoy it!

I am also quite surprised about some friends and family who are quite evidently not interested enough to read my news either. Busy lives soaked with too much information maybe ……… But I know that most people in the rest of the world can access their emails and read them on the move …… at the bus stop or in bed or waiting in a queue. I however have to be sitting at my desk when the children are at school, slowly dialing up for a connection that sometimes does not come! Most of you can’t remember what that is like, so you have to at least admire my tenacity to persevere and get this blog written, when sometimes I get bounced out and lose everything and have to start all over again.

I know I do have some faithful readers since the beginning, like Selena and Bass who often make interesting comments. I know people read me in Ghana, Dominican Republic, Italy, Mexico, Costa Rica, Scotland, Spain, Hong Kong and a few other places. A Guatemalan living in the US translated one of my posts, the great US journalist Robert Parry published one. So the quality of my readership not the quantity is my mission. I want people to discover me through serendipity and an invisible network of good people.

So all you blog friends out there old and new, please tell the good people about my blog. People who are interested in someone with a different life and perspective who tries to blog with a positive tone and not just moaning and griping like many ex pat bloggers living abroad.

Somebody asked me the other day why I bother to write a blog. It is not because I arrogantly think I am a great writer, it was others who encouraged me in this. From my uncle Al who always admired my postcard writing, to Marina who pushed me into it and got me sorted with a man in India to do my website. Also, it disciplines me to sit down and record my thoughts and experiences. I realise that my life for the average girl from Co Durham in the north of England is not typical. I want my children to have a record to read, to go along with all the photos to explain who they are and how they got there. Not many British Guatemalan families living in Cuba …. or haven’t met any so far!

With a lack of Internet time and capacity, I want to keep in touch with friends and family and maybe just a little bit of the rest of the world. Also, I admit I do want to educate people in the first world to step outside their own smug security and realise that there are other worlds out there and not everything in your life should be parochial. We are all humans, whether we are in Africa, China, Lyon or Milton Keynes. Some of us are rich and some of us are poor, some of us don’t realise we are rich and just want more. Also I do want to bust a few myths about the countries where I live. And although, where I sit in all this madness with my family and Rafa, his job and his history, it means that I have to show a modicum of diplomacy. But I always try to be as honest as I can.

I had lunch with a wise and energetic British film teacher and his wife visiting the film school this week. His wife is from Yorkshire (a county in Northern England). He said to my husband, these northern women don’t mince their words. They shoot from the hip! Well maybe we do, but at least you know exactly where you are with us.

Anyway I cannot write about what is really on my mind in these last few days or the next few days for political reasons with a small p and a capital P so I have decided to take you through my unreal world of entertainment since I have arrived here in Cuba. When I can, I will fill in the gaps of my real world …

My next 3 posts will be about Cuban TV and entertainment, Cuban films and independent films from other parts of the world available to me through the wonderful library at the film school.

Mexicans, Scorpions and decapitations

I flew off to Guadalajara film festival for the third time last week. Leaving my Saskia for the first time with her brothers and her adopted Cuban family. Two nannies and Rafa’s driver, Mario. In fact they all had a pretty good time. 70 photos from their jaunt around Habana Vieja. They went to the park of inflatables, the museum of classic cars, pizza for lunch, Paulo and Nico carried by the men on stilts through the streets, donkey rides in the park…….and more.

When I managed to get a call through on Friday evening from Mexico, Paulo told me calmly that he had been stung by a scorpion at school and was taken to the hospital to have an injection. Why do these things always happen when you are away? He was fine and quite proud of how brave he had been. All told, it had been little Nico who was the most upset for his big brother. Bless my little emotional one!

We arrived in Guadalajara late on Thursday night as we had missed our connection in Mexico City. We couldn’t find any of our friends to play with, as they were all staying in different hotels and they thought we were staying in their hotel. We found out later that there was a welcome committee in the bar of the Hilton Hotel waiting for us until 3am!

Anyway, not realizing there was a party a few metres from where we were standing, we went off to a party for the press in a cool bar, but full of such young people that we began to feel old and the night had got off to a bad start. We did not have our festival credentials as we had arrived so late, so Rafa who never pulls rank, reluctantly used his name to get us into the party, however the initial reaction of the revoltingly obese head of press for the festival (his stomach moved independently from the rest of his body) was so bad mannered that we could not get into the mood even when we had our free passes etc.

Usually in Guadalajara the Mexicans are so smiley and hospitable so we have got used to always feeling like VIPs. But once again it was fun at the festival and we met old friends, made new friends and I managed to watch two films. United Kingdom was the invited country and their had been a homenaje to Mike Leigh who had already been and gone, showing his latest film at the opening party. The British Council party had passed and although I thought I was going to be bumping into my folk all over the place, it wasn’t like that at all. I hardly even heard British music!

I was determined to make it to one film from the British contingent and noticed that at 4pm that day there was an interesting documentary on Andrew Logan that sounded just like my cup of tea, and it certainly was. Who is Andrew Logan?

A wonderful man, in my humble opinion. For those who are not familiar with the name, you will certainly be familiar with his style and influences. I found this quote about him on Wikipedia and it serves as a good introduction to this wonderful character.

Andrew Logan’s work blends camp pop-art and neo-romanticism to form a quintessentially English ‘eccentricity of vision’.

The documentary The British Art of Showing Off, by Jes Benstock was very well put together and served as a retrospective of the man and his art with a good dose of English humour. Synopsis from the catalogue read:

British Artist and living legend Andrew Logan, loved the world over by celebrities and misfits alike, takes us under his glittering wing and inside his outrageous, anarchic and spectacular costume pageant: the Alternative Miss World Show. Using live observational camera, archive and exuberant animation, this documentary charts the mounting of the 2009 Show, interwoven with its history, the rise, fall and rediscovery, of both the event and the artist at its centre.

As I sat in the over air conditioned theatre I chuckled away to myself and felt truly proud to be British watching some very famous eccentrics and admiring, once again, our ability to laugh at ourselves and not take life too seriously.

I hope I would get a chance to meet Andrew after the film but outside the cinema their was a narco battle taking place all over the city. Two weeks before there had been 8 decapitated bodies found and the police had finally, that day, nailed one of the top guys. Because of this, his gang was setting fire to buses all over the city (25 I think!). They were decent enough to get all the passengers off first though, a little touch of humanity in the madness. For that reason Andrew and Jes had not made it down to talk after the film. I managed to get a taxi and head back to find my slightly concerned husband waiting for me in the Hilton bar.

However, I was lucky enough to meet Andrew and Jes, the director, later at the Gay party and awards held in a club close to the festival. The Gay party was good fun and we had a handful of friends to help us along with our plastic pints of Tequila and sprite (yeah really elegant!). There were two dancers who came with their prerequisite 6 pack bodies but were on the podium, dancing badly like a couple of bored toyboy housewives and spent most of their time picking their skimpy underwear out of their bum in a very uncharming fashion. I am sure that if Andrew had organized the entertainment it would have been much more fun.

The closing night entailed another walk on the red carpet in my new woman shoes (with a heel!) and a great Danish film called Superclassico. We arrived back in Cuba on Sunday afternoon like true Cubanos with a suitcase full of nappies, cereal, tortillas, shoes, pesto, ……… and the rest.

I found my 3 children utterly charming and wanted to stay up chatting with them all night about their adventures, thinking maybe it is good to have the odd little break from being a mother ………. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that. Paulo and Nico also had really good school reports from the French School waiting for us that brought proud tears to my eyes. They are well on their way to being trilingual, the clever little things.

Next trip we are all off to Guatemala for a wedding and a step back in time, but got to organize another party, and looking forward to the French food tasting evening on the roof terrace of the Sevilla, (very posh hotel in Habana Vieja).

School holidays, Viñales ……… and not Bin Laden!

I have just survived 2 weeks of the boy’s school holidays and on top of that, an ailing little sister Saskia. Who dictates to all of us in her sweet but firm way! Terrible twos just round the corner.

I feel as though I deserve a medal! I did recruit a teacher from the French school to do some extra French classes for a couple of hours on three mornings in the first week but as Saskia was at home grumpy and contrary Mary, I did not feel as though there was any let up. I know I have a nanny and people helping me, but the bottom line is that I am their Mum and only I can do that job. At times I don’t feel as though I am doing it very well but hey, I do my best ……. They can read this blog when they grow up and tell me where I was going wrong.

On Tuesday and Thursday I took them to the Film school for the day with their bicycles but mealtimes were fraught and public and the constant whining for sweets and icecream every time they saw me, wore me down. I began to think that if anything they were acting as good condom adverts for the students. Do you remember that Swedish condom advert of a child having a huge tantrum in a supermarket?

By week 2, I decided to escape with the boys and leave Saskia with the nanny and Rafa. Not something I could do too easily in Guatemala so I decided to remember that I could be independent. We headed west to the beautiful valley of Viñales, which I have to say lived up to my expectations. The name is pronounced a little bit like Bin Laden and in fact would have made a good hide out for him before he was murdered. Or maybe the real Bin Laden still hides there, chortling under his beard at the opposite end of the island to Guantanamo.

We didn’t actually do that much but this was designed to be a reccy trip. Check out the lay of the land and find a good place to stay and a swimming pool maybe. It took us around 2 hours to get there. The motorway was empty and very straight until we turned off to wind our way up towards the amazing scenery that we had been promised. For a moment we felt as though we were back in Guatemala ……… but no …. No volcanoes and no guns! But the patchwork hillsides had some similarities.

Said to be one of Cuba’s greatest natural attractions the Viñales valley is a UNESCO site. The lay of the land …….. It is the finest example of a karst valley (?) where mogotes (great word!), knolls with rounded tops and steep slopes contrast harmoniously with the flat surface of the valley where they stand. It has even been described as Cuba’s Yosemite valley. Tobacco is cultivated along with taro and bananas and the countryside is peppered with the wooden tobacco houses where the leaves are dried (I suppose).

Looking around at all this beauty a little too much, I stopped to check I had taken a correct turn and was persuaded to give a lift to a young man who was headed to Viñales. He was a smiley chirpy chap and the boys liked the look of him so I broke my rule of only picking up women and let him escort us all the way to Viñales town. As we approached, he of course, had a recommendation for a Casa Particular (B&B) and we agreed to check it out.

The place was an emporium of bad taste and so kitsch that in the gold lamé room you really needed to keep your shades on. This was of course the room that the boys wanted. I said that we would go for lunch and think about it, not sure if I could last a whole night in that room, even if the boys thought it was the coolest thing ever.

We bought some tourist tat in the plazuela and found somewhere to eat amongst the European tourists and backpackers. There were trips to caves, horseriding, trekking, bicycle tours, trips to the famous mural ………….. The thought of doing all this with a 6 and 7 year old was enough but Paulo had absolutely no brakes on his bike even if I had managed to get a good deal on a bicycle hire. The thought of him spinning off down one of those steep hills with me trying to stop him …

They cycled up and down the mainstreet for a while before I decided we should go and check out the hotel with the view, 5 minutes back up the road we had come down. Los Jasminas did have a knock out view and a fairly decent swimming pool, which was surrounded by ever so slightly too sunburnt tourists.

I started chatting to one of the guests as the boys tore around the premises putting chewing gum in each other’s hair. Christine was part of a big possy of Danish and Cubans who all spent their time between Cuba and Copenhagen with their beautiful mulatto children and god children like a large extended family of friends. The sun was going down and we headed back to claim the gold room as ours!

When I produced my resident card at the Casa Particular, they were not impressed at all. In fact they told me that without my passport I could not stay there (not even in the gold room!). Surely being a resident meant that I was more legit, I thought. But no, they wanted my visa number and passport number. I felt as though they were not being very helpful with their intakes of breath and clucking and headshaking, and decided to try my luck somewhere else.

As we scorched away from the gold room we bumped into hitchhiker friend who told us that he would help us find somewhere and hopped in again. We tried two more places who told us that they did not dare have me stay as they may get a fine and they may lose their licence to be a Casa Particular. Just as I was thinking we would have to head back to Havana chirpy chappy sorted us out with his mate down the road.

We still had to spend around 20 minutes hanging around in the street as they whole issue of my status was discussed amongst various people and phonecalls were made to immigration. In the meantime a little mulatto boy around the same age as Paulo appeared with a very snazzy looking piece of Cars Lego. Where on earth did he get that from I thought? His Afro Cuban Mum was not far behind him telling me that his father was English and sitting in the house across the road.

There are only 200 resident Brits here in Cuba so this was quite a coincidence. Within half an hour I was cleared to stay the night, had met the whole neighbourhood and was sipping a beer on the patio, whilst the boys raced around on their bicycles with half the street. Tony (the Brit, known as Antonio) was a retired teacher from the North West originally but more recently living in Essex. He had met his present wife whilst he was recovering from his divorce from his first wife. Why did he choose to live in the crazy world of Cuba? One day in Essex his next door neighbours had a birthday party in their back garden just over from where they were sitting in their garden. There was no attempt to invite them round and Tony remembered what he liked about Cuba. How long will he stay, he doesn’t know ……….

The main problems for tourists in Viñales are the roosters waking everyone up at the crack of dawn, so I was expecting not to have a very long night. I woke up at my usual hour but it was so peaceful and the boys were kept quiet watching Garfield 2 on their DVD player so I managed to doze until 9am, quite a result for me. Aaahhhh sleep, that rare commodity.

We were served up a rather tasty breakfast of omelette, toast, ham, tropical fruits, coffee and fresh guava juice before heading off back to the pool and the knockout view and possibly to chat with our new Danish friends.

The mirador (viewpoint) of the hotel had a few people plying their wares. I managed to keep the boys happy with a couple of post-it pads and bookmarks of Viñales before heading home after lunch.

So Viñales, we will be back to either sit looking at the view from Los Jasminas or to get active on bikes, horses or feet and maybe bump into Bin Laden hiding in one of those tobacco houses.

Potatoes and the whole consumption game in Cuba …..

Potatoes disappeared from sight here in Havana a couple of weeks before Christmas. I managed to get hold of some a la izquierda, ie on the black market. This entailed going to the big agro (veg market) on 19 and 42, parking my car round the corner and being approached by two or three guys whispering out of the corner of their mouths ……….. papa, quieres papa mi amol. Why so clandestino? I felt as though I was buying crack cocaine in the street.

Well it turns out, or so I am told, that all the potatoes at this time have to be planted, re-seeded, whatever the term may be. And anybody not doing so was operating illegally. So I suppose was I, in the act of purchasing them, but I am still a complete innocent in these matters, and there seems to be a lot of grey territory from potatoes to internet services and anything else in between.

Potatoes are back now and we are enjoying them but you could say that the problem with buying potatoes here in Cuba, is the problem about all matters of consumption, you just never know what you are going to get and how you will find it. This is partly the reason why I have so many people working in my house the whole act of pursuing things is a continuous game and word goes out on the grapevine when something arrives in a certain shop. At the moment the elusive apples are dancing with us again.

I realise that I am quite spoilt as the film school supplies a lot of my necessities and I have such delicacies from the farm such as baby sweet tomatoes and asparagus, herbs, tenderstem brocolli, cauliflower, tasty greens, cucumbers, a selcetion of lettuces and arrugula (rocket), and garlic and onions of varying size and sweetness.

Cheese is not big in this part of the world and the locals tend to eat a very mild version of Gouda or an Italian style mozarella cheese to melt. I have so far managed to order 3 types of cheeses from the French importer …….. Goats cheese and Compte and real Parmesan. I wrap them up in damp cheese cloth and put them in the fridge and they will keep for up to 3 months. Young when they arrive and old and strong when they are finished. The parmesan I grate and freeze in little ziplock bags. If you have the money you can pretty much buy any fancy French things from him including partly baked croissant, tarte Tatin and a huge selection of yoghurts, tasty Toulouse sausages, charcuterie, pate, pastries etc etc. The French guy is married to a stunning Afro Cuban actress who delivered my cheese personally to my door a few months ago, all dressed in white with some trance inducing green contact lenses. It was dead man’s cheese but that is another story ………….!

There is a Belgian who imports a variety of wares but I haven’t got my act together with him yet as you have to order 3 months in advance …….. He sells breadmakers and a huge selection of cleaning products, wine, juices, packaged goods, amongst other things.

My milk, yoghurt and butter come from a local farm. Cream is still relatively elusive, which is a bit odd. Maybe Cuba is just not a creamy culture! Cream cheese grab it when you can, but when you get it, it is good, almost dolcelatte standard.

Bread is not very wholewheat (light brown and limp, ok toasted) but I can get hold of some pretty good wholemeal seeded baguettes when I am lacking in the grain department. A bit pricey at $2 but worth it.

Fish and seafood can be bought in a nearby fishing town and all comes fresh but frozen at source in kilo bags of fish filets, prawns, lobster and crab. Apparently if I organise them to call me when they have a fresh catch I can get there before they freeze. I suppose everything gets frozen fast as it is so bloody hot here most of the time. Also we have bought great fish from the fishermen who dive with their harpoons in front of the house.

All pork items get delivered to me from a local farm. Ham, bacon, gammon, cold cuts and sausages all pretty good quality and fresh. Sometimes we have to call them a few times. Maybe they run out of pigs to slaughter from time to time! Local beef bought in 70 supermarket can be very good as great filet steaks or in casseroles such as the famous ropa vieja cuban stew. Serrano ham imported from Spain along with olives and olive oil are nearly always available.

Outside the French school at collection time there are always a handful of sellers with iceberg lettuce, baby carrots, freshly picked spinach, beetroot, huge hunks of smoked ham, peanuts, fresh flowers, pirate films, green peppers amongst other random items.

Clothes are as random as apples but I have managed to buy some great sandals and a few summer dresses from Italy which appear in the boutiques of Habana Vieja, Nautico and Casa Particulares (like shopping in someone’s living room with 3 women serving you coffee and giving their opinions on anything that they manage to pull out the closet for you).

Toiletry items are in short supply and sometimes quite expensive but I have recently found good reasonably priced shampoos from Spain and Argentina and a great bubble bath from Italy. Head and Shoulders is $9 a bottle!

So what is on my list of things to get from outside:

Vanish (I am a laundry fiend and have 3 children!), nappies (daipers), ziplock bags, good jam and chocolate, music and magazines, HP Sauce, Worcestershire sauce and all the usual condiments from UK, wheat tortillas to make tacos and quesadillas, rosa jamaica, chili sauce and miel de agave from Mexico, Ibuprofen syrup for children, sponges for washing up, red oil for all my Guatemalan furniture, good quality stationery items, glue, pencils etc., presents for children including Lego ………….. and there is always something else missing!

Nobody is starving in Cuba, a lot of people get sent clothes and material things from outside. The Cubans always manage to look good and quite fashionable despite their isolation and constant desire to consume things, that they do not have readily available.

I can’t deny that consuming here is a frustrating and time consuming occupation and the only thing that you can rely on is that you can’t rely on anything.

My advice is shop carefully when you are abroad, and learn to stock up like a Cuban when you see something that comes and goes ……….. just grab it and grab lots especially if it will freeze or store!

Parties, Cadillacs, potatoes, Valentines ……and blogging

Yesterday was Valentines day. They call it the day of love here for anybody or anything. You can even say I love my cow. I actually prefer this to the sloppy fake romantic rubbish that has been marketed to us for years in Europe. Everybody gave me best wishes of love all day yesterday but my wonderful husband let me stay asleep in bed, made breakfast for all the children, washed up all the dishes, pans, glasses from a hastily put together slightly drunken dinner with friends the night before …….. and then he had to go off to work whilst I stayed at home, even Saskia stayed quietly watching Nemo for another 20 minutes before she came and woke me up. How romantic is that?

In the last 3 weeks …….. I have had 2 parties in my house, done a Cadillac tour around Havana, celebrated potatoes returning on the scene, watched a few good films, begun to reupholster my living room suite (or the diminutive 79 year old who is in my living room has begun the job), met a new fun group of Wednesday lunchers, visited an eco reserve in las Terrazas, been back to Hemingway’s house, eaten in a real vegetarian restaurant in Cuba, entertained filmmaker friends from London and grandparents from the Cotwolds, had the best steak of my life, bought an amazing photo of the Malecon by a very talented young photographer, juiced a lot of sweet delicious oranges (its the season!), met a new bubbly Thai friend who is a dress designer (my new beautiful material sent from London will soon be designed into something cool, thanks Amanda!), received lots of wonderful presents and goodies from kindles to cameras, strawberry jam to my new favourite chocolate bar from Tescos, swiss, orange and almond (any Brits rush down there now, you won’t regret it, Thanks Nico!), a whole load of great music, got very frustrated with my lack of internet, repeatedly failed to post photos on my blog, met a Cuban working in occupational psychology in the Cuban social research centre and remembered what I used to do, failed to even begin to think about the English translations of the film school website, and today I made a cottage pie to celebrate the return of the potato. But absolutely failed to write any of this down. Some of this is to do with living life to the full rather than writing about it or living on line. But blogging for me has been a discipline, something to make me sit down and share.

So I have made some decisions: I have to write at least something once a day even if it is off line.

Invite people to guest write on my blog! I like this one, it makes it more fun and interesting. Not sure if they actually will write anything for me but it might stop making me feel so overwhelmed by the amount of stuff that I should be writing.

Give up on trying to post photos on my blog and upload them to a related facebook photo page. I actual do manage to upload pictures to facebook.

Off to swim in the crystal clear sea ……………..