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Fuzzy hair, Grumpy Frogs, New Friends

Internet quite fast today in our little apartment in the film school, Saskia playing outside with a resident film school nanny and some other children of the film school. So ………

Rafa and I have had to stop our extended honeymoon and get back to work BIG TIME and reality has set in. I dream of looking for things in boxes like a lunatic and lie awake at night trying to remember what I used to feed my children in other countries and then thinking ……… hmm yes …….. no strawberries, no tortillas, no Broccoli, no fish fingers, no sausages. Maybe in time all these things will come through my door but right now I feel very uninspired and just keep serving up French bread pizzas and mangoes and yogurts, sneaking a bit of green veg into bolognese sauce.

My hair has always been a bit on the fluffy side but here in Cuba it is really getting silly. Not quite sure how to handle it, so any beauty tips gratefully received. I am thinking about just chucking some olive oil on it but its all about playing around with the hair/oil ratio and right now I am rather busy looking after 3 children and having a lot of people help me with everything, when all I want to do is help myself! Sounds ungrateful I know, but I just want to be independent and not have to ask for things or be asked for things!

The boys first week at their new French school proved to be more eventful than I had anticipated! Paulo and Nico are 14 months apart in age, and as all brothers, have extremely different personalities. Check out who are we section of this blog for more descriptions of our family. Anyway Paulo, my first born is certainly not lacking in the ambition and confidence department but little Nico my second, takes more after his mother and is brave but not always high on self esteem.

In Guatemala they both did evaluations when they started their new schools and to my relief they BOTH got put in the year above. If they BOTH hadn’t been, it would have been difficult to accept the evaluation as Paulo would have been 2 years above his brother or they would have been in the same class and not been allowed to develop individually. Anyway at the French school after their first day Paulo came waltzing out proudly saying he had been put up a year and had already met his new best friend Lorenzo who was inviting him round for a play date and had a swimming pool. How the hell did that happen I thought? The boy can hardly speak French!! However the look on my little Nico´s face was devastating. Paulo will always always be 2 years above me now Mummy he said.

Rafa and I were both a bit cross that this decision had been made without consulting us and had really knocked Nico’s self esteem. Next morning Rafa went to the director’s office to explain. However he was a bit grumpy and did not seem very keen on moving Nico as he said the class above was really full. There was no way we could move Paulo down a class, especially as he had his new best friend.

By day 3 when nothing had happened and Nico was leaving school looking sadder and sadder every day, and nobody in the French school seemed particularly interested in resolving our problem, I had to take action. So outside the school gate, I asked if any of the parents could help, in a little pathetic speech about my poor Nico that I don’t think half the people understood! But anyway it must have made the school run a little bit more interesting that day and finally got the director to take us seriously. He marched me off into his office like a naughty girl …….

One of the teachers had even said to Rafa that it was very difficult to have pupils that do not have French at home. Why accept them in the first place you grumpy frogs? we thought. Anyway by Thursday at school meeting with the parents they addressed all matters and Nico is now in the right class and doing really well and I think I have met two new friends. And, my French friends I still remain a true francophile despite all this!

Katharina is an international German mother married to a Spaniard and they both speak fluent English. Her children speak Spanish, English, German and French and she has been in Cuba 11 years. She is calm and kind and interesting. Also at the parents meeting I sat next to another Mum, Laura who has a girl in Nico’s new class. She is half French, half English and married to a Cuban. Also she is a scriptwriter working with a very well known Cuban film director and was very interested to meet Rafa and I. Anyway they both liked the fact that Rafa and I fought so hard for little Nico so I think they will be future friends if I ever manage to get out of my house to socialise!

In Limbo in Habana

My life has begun here in Havana but I still feel a little bit in limbo, mainly because the school term hasn’t begun for Rafa or the children …….. but after a few amateur mistakes, things are falling into place faster than I ever imagined.

Most importantly, we are all happy and relaxed as we never were in Guatemala and I haven´t even made any friends yet! But I feel so optimistic and happy for Rafa and I and our family life for the next 4 years. The energy here has let us all unravel. Rafa seems to be relishing his new role, and is getting up earlier than any of us every morning to swim in the sea and do Thai Chi. The children have hardly had their clothes on, especially Saskia, whose fat little bottom I am getting used to seeing waddling around the garden or sitting in her paddling pool. Her hair has also gone wildly curly and she looks prettier than ever! The boys spend more time swimming, chasing crabs, sailing off in their pretend boat to the island of Juventud ……. than fighting, as they had been during the last few weeks of uncertainty and stressful travelling.

Cuba loves children and everywhere we go my three are running around making friends. I feel so relaxed that I don’t have to worry about kidnapping or guns or narcos or just plain old uptight rich people judging us. Everyone has been so friendly ………..

I will always love Guatemala but living in that ridiculously unequal, repressed and violent society was not good for me. I feel things too much, even the things you don´t see. I wrote about Antigua life in this blog and will always love my friends but I can’t wait for them all to visit me here to see me in this new world.

When I think about the uptight rich Guatemalans and arrogant Americans who had never visited Cuba, but were so quick to tell me that it was a disaster. I will tell them, take a good look at yourselves before you criticise others. Cuba ain’t perfect but there is something intangibly special here.

So here goes my little update on life …….

We arrived to find out that both our cars were off the road. But now we have two cars outside our house. Mine is a big Chrysler Voyager with 3 rows of seats. Yikes! But there is no traffic in Cuba. Imagine 1950s England. After Guatemala and a month in UK this is driving paradise.

I had to deal with the cook, who introduced herself to me in February (our first visit) saying that she was in charge of the house. That is going to change, I thought to myself all those months ago. I didn’t like her from the beginning. Just her very presence in a room irritated me even before she opened her mouth and she would follow me around like a nurse in a mental institute.

The house had been empty for 8 years apart from the odd event or dinner and she had been ruling the roost. I couldn’t even go into my kitchen and get a glass of water without her breathing down my neck ……. literally. After 5 days Rafa came home to find me holed up in my bedroom like a depressed teenager on a school exchange. So she had to go! Her food was rubbish anyway and she hadn’t helped me find any of the things I had asked her. She wanted to be in control. Also there was a suspiciously large amount of food coming into the house that we certainly weren’t eating.

I think we have also found a nanny. I am not sure anyone can replace our beloved Juju but I have a really good feeling about this woman who is a friend of one of the ex-employees from the house and is a kind and gentle woman from the country. She is a teacher and a mother in her fifties looking for something less stressful and close to home (she lives in the first block of flats next to our house about 200 yards away).

Next the school issue. We were expecting to send the boys to the International School but after a quick visit to discuss payments we were blown away by the fees. The Film School had offered to pay for one of the boys but still we could not ask them to pay what they were demanding ……. a price expensive for anywhere in the world never mind Cuba. It was a bit of blow but sometimes things happen for a reason. We discovered the French international school was just 5 minutes from our house, a quick phone call and we found ourselves in the headmasters office filling out forms and laughing about how the French school was bringing rugby to Cuba. I have a feeling my little Nico will be good at rugby just like his grandfather and uncles …….. vamos a ver. I liked the headmaster, he had a little sparkle in his eyes like a good Santa.

So the boys will have another language, their third. They even offer French classes to parents which I will be taking ……… its 20 years since my days in France and I love the language. On top of that we have a very good French bakery round the corner with baguettes, croissant and pain au chocolat.

The food issue has not been such a big deal as I imagined and I have only been here just over a week. We are lucky as all our basics come from the Film School. I won’t have to shop for vegetables, rice, beans, meat, chicken, cheese, milk, yoghurt, flowers, water, beer, wine, cola, juice boxes, coffee, chocolates, serviettes ………. and a whole lot more. What we have already found is supplies of fish and prawns, Serrano ham and Olive Oil, Malta, tomatoes, bananas, onions, cream cheese and a bread that you could just about call wholemeal. All at cheaper prices than we paid in Guatemala.

What I foresee as the consumer issues are getting hold of good cheap clothes for the children and Rafa and good sunscreen and toiletries. But Rafa will be travelling and friends will be visiting ……. we shall survive outside the consumerist world I think.

Now to the technical issues. Rafa was so proud that he had sorted out my almost impossible to get hold of mac external modem and got me connected to internet in the house in a matter of days, only then to have a storm burn our modem 4 days later! He has just interrupted me to tell me that a Cuban Mexican friend from the school has already found us another modem in Mexico and is arriving in a matter of days to come to my internet rescue. She is also bringing Rafa a new MacBook which the school will pay for. We’ll be having a few mojitos with her watching the sunset when she arrives …….. my internet saviour!

We have also been told that all our things have got the green light from customs and we should have them by Monday. Oh my bed, my pillows, my kitchen stuff, Saskia’s toys, the boys Lego and bicycles we shall soon all be reunited!

So in a couple of weeks the children will be back at school, Saskia will start in her Cuban nursery, I will have a nanny, I will be online, we will all have the food we need, I will have time to write again ………. and maybe, just maybe, Rafa and I can get out for a night and go dancing.

We are coming up to a period of shooting stars apparently. As we sat outside last night looking at the stars I was wondering out loud to Rafa that maybe I felt happy here as I come from a little island off a big continent and here I am again on my island.

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Arrived in Cuba and dialing up my internet!

I bet you have all forgotten what that sounds like. I have to admit to feeling very nostalgic when I heard that old familiar noise.

Sorry for my absence from the blogsphere but the last few weeks have been a rollercoaster and I feel I have dragged my children all over England to family and friends for way too long with the usual highlights and low points that it always entails.

Now arrived in Cuba and just spent a wonderful day eating delicious food and tropical juices and swimming in the sea and most importantly getting my family back to normal.

So far loving the relaxed rhythm of Habana and the chatty friendly Cubans. My children seem so happy and at home and Rafa and I feel as though we are having the honeymoon we never had, holding hands and being wistful. Lets enjoy it while we can …….

Just watched the sun set over the sea and all my children are asleep in their own bedrooms albeit not in their own beds. Got all that to come … getting our stuff.

Will blog soon about jumping back into British society during a tense and sad summer of a mix of death (Amy Winehouse) and disappointment (the looting of new trainer and plasma screen riots).

My wonderful girlfriends that I left in Guatemala and London.

And first days in Cuba …………

Global Mum

We finally moved out of Guatemala, and are on our way to Cuba via the UK. So much has happened in the last few days that I don´t know how to coherently write it all down but feel I must blog something.

Leaving Guatemala was harder and more emotional than I had even imagined. I am not so great at goodbyes and in the end I was emotionally drained and the logistics of packing were tough. We left in the shuttle though the streets of Antigua that held so many memories for all of us. We were all quiet and reflective, even the boys!

After many rainy grey days the sun was shining as we left so we got to say goodbye to those beautiful volcanoes. The country that give me my wonderful husband and three beautiful little hybrids and so many great friends is now officially a chapter of my life that is over. We will visit of course but we are on our next chapter now, a page has turned ……

The Casa Comal leaving party was amazing. Grown men were holding back tears and so many hugs and goodbyes all from the heart. Thanks to everyone for such an amazing night, and yes we danced a lot!

Leaving Juju who his second mother to all of us was tearful and traumatic.

We arrived in Habana and one of our 5 suitcases was stopped by the famous customs and I was imagining hours and hours of complications but in the end it was the two children’s lunchboxes that I had filled with English tea and Indian spices that were causing the problem and a quick check to prove that they weren’t hard drugs meant that we left the airport pretty soon and got to our future home without too much of a problem.

We hardly left the house the two days we were there and I spent too much time fighting back tears whenever I thought about all the good people that I will miss so much in the next few months. The boys were delighted to spend the two days swimming in the Caribbean and eating way too much icecream.

The flight to England alone with the 3 little ones was relatively painless compared to previous trips. Although I think I will be ordering a children’s meal on Virgin next time I fly as their food was much more yummy! I only had the energy to eat comfort food pasta and suck apricot puree from a tube.

My noble sister had got up at 6 to get to Gatwick and meet us and got caught in bad traffic on the M25 but was there within minutes of us passing through the gate. I was slightly annoyed that with my 3 children and 3 suitcases I was supposed to magically have a pound coin for the luggage trolleys. Gatwick Gatwick you really need to get better, no wonder Richard Branson has been fighting to get more slots into Heathrow.

Now we are installed in a little village in the Cotswolds that seems to have worse communications than Cuba (my mobile (cell) phone does not work in my house nor the USB internet connection that I had ordered) but the flowers and gardens are picture postcard beautiful and we are settling in nicely!

Moving into an unknown house with jetlag and trying to work out all the appliances was trickier than you imagine. I had forgotten the stress of recycling. It seems you have to wash and file all your rubbish. I know this is all good but surely the responsibility lies with the big companies who insist on so much packaging and pollution.

The children are delighted to see their British family but seem to have forgotten that they need to listen to me sometimes ………. Their exotic transatlantic accents aare already sounding more English but they are still speaking Spanish to each other. We spent the first morning at their cousin’s sports day in the village school in summer drizzle. Saskia is very chatty and will learn a lot of English words in the next month before she hits her Habana nursery in a few weeks.

I just feel happy that I am holding it together. An old friend is arriving tomorrow to visit and my cousin will visit the day after. Rafa is meanwhile still in Cuba evaluating students finals and will arrive next week.

Thank God for British TV, it still leaves the rest behind especially when you have the scandal of the Murdoch case going on amongst other things.

Jetlag please leave right now!

The Toaster

We have moved out of our house and our things have left in a big truck headed for Cuba but not without some interesting issues along the way. One of which, I would like to share here as maybe it could be symbolic of my future life in Cuba!

Anyone who is British or has visited a British home or spent any time living in the UK knows the importance of the toaster and the kettle as the most humble but most valued of kitchen appliances. We are brought up on TOAST ……… Marmite toast, beans on toast, egg on toast, honey toast, toasted sandwiches, toast can be for breakfast, supper or just whenever you feel like filling up. Toast can be beautiful wholewheat toast with smoked salmon, toasted bagels with cream cheese, toast soldiers to dip into your boiled egg, or just plain white sliced toast soaked in melted butter ………. and they all can be equally delicious depending on your mood.

As a nation we are not so obsessed with having huge fridges, enormous gas fired barbecues and ridiculously extravagant domestic appliances that after a few days get forgotten about. But we always have a toaster and a kettle in every kitchen.

Now that I remember there was even a hit in the eighties by that popster Paul Young when he was still singing with Streetband called Toast ……… everybody was humming it. (I have shared the lyrics at the bottom of this post for your amusement). So you see our affection for toast reaches quite tragic levels that others really should not mock. Toast crosses all regional and class boundaries and in school common rooms is almost like currency, or in mine it was!

Anyway, not to put too finer point on it, the toaster is as important to a Brit as the comal is for the tortillas of Guatemala. I don´t think anybody would make a fuss about a Guatemalan wanting to import their comal into Cuba but I suppose it doesn’t have a tiny electrical element which apparently is not allowed. However I think I can bring my hairdryer so not quite sure about the logic. Rules are rules I suppose.

Anyway my poor husband has learnt the importance of toast to his wife over the last few years and now we even have toast with our desayuno chapin (typical Guatemalan breakfast) that my husband always makes for us on Saturday mornings. I now do not miss HP sauce but have chili sauce on my breakfast, something a few years ago I would have found impossible to contemplate. So I don’t see myself as someone rigid and inflexible but TOAST is TOAST!

When we visited our future house in Cuba there was no grill and no toaster and we were reduced to microwaving Bimbo style bread until it become like a rock. The two women in the kitchen urged me to bring a toaster and anything else similar. So on my list of essentials was my toaster and my little oven/grill. Anyway a few days ago we were told absolutely not to even contemplate bringing anything like that. I have to admit I took the news badly, there are many things I am willing to give up ………. potatoes, lemons, avocados, mangos, grapes and whatever else, as usually it is liberating to discover other alternatives and expand your gastronomic horizons. However TOAST is TOAST!

toaster, UK, England, British, Paul Young, Streetband, marmite, smoked salmon, Cuba, customs, capitalism, humble — The Offending item - my humble toaster.

Needless to say my concern about not having my, soon to be abandoned, toaster (pictured here) seems to have incited what I can only describe as thinly disguised prejudice. Me and my humble toaster have become a symbol of extravagant capitalism rather than a simple cultural reference point. We have been told that the Cubans have lived for 50 years without toasters and we should use our contacts in the diplomatic world to acquire our toaster in Cuba as though it is diamonds or a Rolls Royce that I am hankering after.

So once again I feel difficult and my poor husband has been fighting nobly for my right to have TOAST but now I have been made to feel like the Princess of the Toaster ……. it could be the next Harry Potter sequel. I bet JK Rowling likes toast no matter how many millions she has made.

Toast by Streetband.

Morning all. I’d like to tell you about when I was a young boy. I must have been three or four months old at the time. I didn’t really know what I wanted, and if I did, I wouldn’t have been able to tell anybody, ‘cos all I could do was gurgle. So I sat there in me highchair, thinking one day, looking at me tray and thinking what I’d give for a meal on there. So I started looking round to see what I could have. I was rubbing me eggy soldier in me head, trying to think, and then I looked in the corner and there’s a little breadbin with its mouth open, just staring at me, like. And then I looked in and I saw bread.

I thought, oh yeah, I’ll have toast,
A little piece of toast.

Well, then I started getting older,
I hated this, I hated that,
Expensive state was ludicrous
And cafes couldn’t cater for the finer things in life:
The upper crust was not for me,
I could tell that.
So I’d go back home,
Switch the kitchen light on,
Put the grill on,
Slip a slice under

And have toast,
A little piece of toast.

‘Cos there’s so much to choose from.
There’s brown bread, white bread,
All sorts of wholemeal bread;
It comes in funny packages
With writing on the side,
But it doesn’t matter which one you have
‘Cos when you cut the crusts off,
Have it with marmalade
Or butter, cheese, tomatoes, beans,
Banana
Or chocolate if you’re strange,
It doesn’t really matter.

Oh no, it all goes with toast,
Just toast.

I’m gonna think about it some…

That’s toast, mmm yeah,
Just toast,
That’s toast,
Just toast.

Well I go down the supermarket
With me basket in me hand,
I’m walking from one counter to another
Trying to find the bread stall,
But I can’t find it anywhere
And then I bump into a mother
With a baby in a basket
And she says

“Oh look, you’ve started him off again,
I come down here for a little bit of peace and quiet
To get some bread to go home to make toast,
Just toast,
I like toast”
Yeah, but I don’t half like toast.

OK, scrape that toast, boys.

That’s toast,
Yeah, just toast.

[Spoken]

I can’t think about it any more. I’ve got to go and have some, it’s no good. Here listen, I’m getting a bit browned off standing here. Me too. Shall we go and have some toast? Good idea. Why not? OK. I’ve got the grill on. Got any brown bread? Yeah! Have you got wholemeal bread? Wheatmeal bread? All sorts of toast. Let’s go………

(They proceed to make toast, accompanied by various kitchen noises.)

Leaving school and cats …..

The boys are leaving their little school here in Guatemala. They have only been there half a year but have been very happy. Academically they have both excelled which really helped their confidence, especially Nico who learnt to read and also discovered that he is pretty good at maths, better than his smarty pants sabe lo todo big brother who excels in all the communication departments.

It is their last half day tomorrow but today they had a party. Unfortunately, the teachers in prepa, neglected to do a party for Nico so the pile of doughnuts we sent all got eaten by first grade and he was so upset that I had to give him 4 fairy cakes when he got home. Paulo´s class had all made him cards and given him little presents. A lot of them were quite religious giving him blessings and the virgin etc etc.

The most heart wrenching letter was from his little nobia Emilia who has been incredibly loyal these last few months! She printed it on the computer and had even put a photo, her email address and telephone number and a little cuddly present. This girl is not giving up on her man. And this is what she wrote translated from Spanish.

Feliz Viaje Paulo

You were the best friend I have ever had and I will never forget you. I am so happy that we got to spend this time together. Your friend Maria Emilia

IMG00832-20110623-1543 — Sweet Emilia ........ bless her cotton socks

I don´t really believe in moving cats from home to home too much, but definitely not from country to country. So although I am feeling guilty as hell, we are leaving our two cats behind, and so far I am not quite sure where! Every time I look at them I feel a huge pang of guilt. On top of all that, they seem to be making a huge play on the fact that they are happy and smug right now, like only cats can!

Chloe was from Aware, an animal rescue centre run by an eccentric Brit (you find these British animal lovers all over the world) and his Guatemalan wife in a place a few miles away from Antigua. Our dog had died leaving our first male cat Smudge a bit lonely. He had run away a couple of times looking for love but we always managed to find him. I remember once noticing his weighing up as he thought freedom and insecurity versus food and tough love from toddler Nico.

We took him up to Aware for the snip and by chance a kitten had been left at the end of the road a few days before. Anyway along came the noble and dignified Chloe, who was allowed one litter of kittens, one of which was such a beautiful Siamese generation throwback that we just had to keep her. Smudge disappeared and then there were two.

Mother and daughter have not always got on and I am not that surprised. Sophie is a naughty, cheeky, fish stealing youth who pushes in front of her mother at every opportunity. The children love her though as she deals with them with the same cocky cheek she uses on her mother. Chloe on the other hand has always been my cat. She waits for the children to go to bed and sneaks inside for a bit of sofa time with me.

IMG00831-20110622-1716 — Suddenly starting to snuggle up close .....they know you know ..........

Bizarrely, lately they have been being really affectionate towards each other which makes me think even more that I want them to stay together. I fear that everyone wants to adopt the pretty, cheeky Sophie and noble Chloe will be left to her fate like a poor Guatemalan campesina widow. Oh the guilt ………. I am just hoping that perfect home will appear and my cats can maintain the safe and easy life they have had with us because I ain’t getting on a plane to Cuba with 3 kids and 2 cats.

Home is where the heart is.

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

rocking chair — 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 ……..

my garden — 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.

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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Hard times in Cuba? or Guatemala?

Everyone is telling me that I will be arriving in Cuba for a time of great change and not all of those changes for the good, depending on who you are talking to. The Cubans apparently are going to go through some tough times as the paternal arm of communism untangles itself and they are left with …….. who knows? Rations are going, enterprise is arriving, property can be bought and sold and a lot more tourists will be coming they say. But in the meantime I think your average Cuban will have to suffer to move forward and that does not always seem fair.

Meanwhile in Guatemala the elections are approaching and I realise once more how rightwing this part of the world is. It seems incredibly possible that they could elect rightwing candidates involved in the genocide of the 80s and there is lots of finger pointing from the right to people who were involved with the guerrilla, as if it is an automatic given that to be involved in the guerrilla makes you more dysfunctional than the people involved with the genocide. Otto Perez Molina you know what you did in the name of God we have film footage! When I talk about what I call the rightwing here, they are the kind of people that make Margaret Thatcher look like a pussy cat. I do not think that even she would have wanted to kill a trade unionist. Maybe bop them over the head with her handbag if she got the chance but I don´t think she would have been up for massacring a few mining villages up North where I am from, even though they gave her a big headache and did not go easily into a future of mass unemployment and social deprivation. But I digress …….

When I mention that I am going to live in Cuba, a lot of Guatemalans (most of my friends excluded) have a reaction that I am beginning to find of sociological interest. It is a kind of trigger response. The very mention of Cuba seems to make them nervous. It is as if they have to justify their country´s inability to move out of its poverty and narco violence and corruption by pointing out how great it is that they can buy what they want in the ever increasing shopping malls in Guatemala city or in the pretty tourist shops and delis of Antigua. How they are free and can fly wherever they want. (I do correct them on this one though as now any Cuban can leave Cuba for a holiday but like most Guatemalans they don´t have the money). Anyway, these people don´t seem to have a clue how most of their country lives and that maternal mortality, malnutrition and domestic violence and murder rates are all on the up to name a few social problems. But evidently as long as the richer people can buy what they want and even fly to Miami to do it, that makes all the other things ok, because they are free to consume. But right now in Cuba nobody is starving, Guatemala however has a child malnutrition problem that is worse than a lot of African countries.

I begin to think about it a lot this week in the last balmy days before the rains arrive watching the fireflys play in the back garden. Thinking am I one of those people? Selfish and happy to live in a bubble. I have to admit I do like shopping (but in the markets and boutiques of Europe looking for a steal or something entirely unique that I will treasure all my life …… rather than in Gap or Target or Dolce Gabana). As long as I can buy my nice things for me and my family am I happy to live in a country blighted by violence and poverty? Can I ignore the realities of Guatemalan society, as long as I surround myself with good people and beautiful things and fine wine? Issues such as gendercide and chronic malnutrition. A people who have grown stunted for generations due to the slavery and apartheid they find themselves born into. It is their fault they should have less children. It is their fault they don´t know how to eat properly. It is their fault for getting involved with the rebels. I have heard it all! I am still baffled as to how people can be starving in a country like this where everything grows. But one thing I am sure about ……..it is not their fault.

But in the end what can I do? I have 3 little ones to bring up and that overwhelms me most days. But I can try to always be informed, know the truth, try to see other people´s arguments and make sure that my children know the truth about both their countries and their adopted ones. Just keep learning I suppose.

I am not sure why, but certain people from the US think that they are the oracle of world opinion, as they quite clearly are not ………. just go and read some Chomsky, Democracy Now or Consortium news or any quality European paper and you can see that a lot of us have different opinions and we are not crazy foaming at the mouth commies or fundamentalist ragheads (a popular term for Arabs in the US). A rich surburban gringo in Antigua told me with such authority that Cuba has been a disaster since they kicked the US out. By that I suppose he meant the Mafia, Batista and the CIA. And don´t get me started on the weird and shameful existence of Guantanamo. I am just relieved that there are no longer British prisoners there but Obama´s promise to close it is still pending. And Cuba has human rights issues!!!

I don´t profess to be an expert in geopolitics and certainly not in the unique and fascinating history of Cuba but I think there is one thing that I will never stop thinking. For better or for worse, Cuba is an ideological miracle and still is. How the hell did the CIA never manage to poison Fidel? Just that is a miracle. I know the Miami Cubans and a large part of US population won´t agree with me but not sure I care! In fact I have never met people so full of hate as the Miami Cubans. That can´t be good for them or anybody. And unfortunately their bad taste and bad humour does get transmitted back to Cuba along with an extra layer of white trash mentality born in the USA.

And yes I am packing carefully for our move to Cuba and I am slightly nervous about being in a no consumer zone but I hope I can survive happily without faceless shopping malls, guns on every street corner, apartheid, darkened car windows, suited bodyguards, awful cable TV with more advertisements than programmes, schools like prisons with gun toting armed guards at the gates …….and all the rest which goes with a narco capitalist state.

I can only promise the Cuban people that I will try to understand and not to judge them when I am living as a guest in their country as they are put through yet another sociological challenge. Good Luck Cuba! I will write about and record your hardships and your happiness and your apparently famous ability to resolver.

Saskia La Cubanita

If ever there was a girl born to go and live in Cuba it is my little Saskia.

All my children enjoy music and dancing like their parents but she has taken this love to an extreme. She lives for music, even when nobody is paying her any attention.

I knew I was in trouble months ago when she used to gyrate to the liquidiser in the morning when I was making her breakfast. A random passing motorbike could get her going, that´s how desperate she was to find a beat. When she went to her first Piñata she was fascinated when everybody sang Happy Birthday. She only likes watching TV when there is musical accompaniment. Do you remember that Abba Sang Thank you for the Music? (go on course you do!) There is a line in it about describing how one of the Swedish popsters could dance before they could walk and sing before they could talk. Well that´s my daughter, she really could dance before she could walk. And now that she can walk she wants to walk right off and find out where the party is ……….

Apart from the fact that she is only 14 months old and can dance Reggaeton with the best of them, she has other things about her that remind me of Cuba. She is always hot hot hot, in fact a little bit sweaty sometimes. She wants to hang out in the calle as much as possible and often is found banging on the front gate of the house or standing next to the car waiting to be whisked off to hang out in the streets. When I take her walking around Antigua in the mornings she shouts across streets to complete strangers waving at them like old friends. She has a certain confidence and languidness that reminds of the Caribbean, saying hey boy I got all the time I want to hang out in the streets looking good and shaking my hips.

Saskia in the calle — Hanging out in the Calle

So we will dance in Cuba Saskia and I. We will find our groove or in my case get back my groove. Although I find any excuse to get up and dance here in Antigua it is not something that has been in my life as much as in my London, Paris, Barcelona days. In fact the last time I got up and danced here, I noticed out of the corner of my eye, a bunch of middle aged po-faced tourists staring at me as though I had just been let out of some hardcore rehab centre, which sometimes isn’t far from the truth. I need dance rehab!! Every year my husband runs the film festival here in Guatemala and always has great bands and DJs and I am sure I am beginning to get a reputation as his crazy wife who makes everyone dance. I can take a while to get those Guatemalans on the dance floor but I am sure I won´t have this problem in Habana!

Saskia looking to street — I wanna be in the calle

But back to Saskia my Cubanita. She also loves to talk like many Cuban although right now it is some wonderful language of her own peppered with a lot of Mamas. And she does enjoy food like a Cuban with the enthusiasm of someone who is not sure when they will next be able to get hold of a mango or an avocado or anything right now!

They say children open a lot of doors in Cuba. I think my Saskia will be banging on doors looking for the party. I am just glad that we are not in Cuba 10 years later because the way she dances I might have been leaving Habana an abuelita! (note 1)

But one thing is sure. Saskia will be the Cubanita of the family a walking, talking, dancing doll giving it back as good as she gets. And maybe, just maybe her Mama too!

note 1 abuelita is a grandma.

Welcome to Serendipity or Madness – Leaving Guatemala heading to Cuba

I promised I would start posting after Semana Santa and here I am. My site is not quite finished but not far off, so no more procrastinating.

Just to summarise how I got to this stage. All the stuff you see in the archives here is everything I have written since I arrived in Guatemala nearly 8 years ago, apart from the endless emails of course. So if you want to know more about me and my journey to where I am now, dip into the archives. A lot of it was written to family and friends including great Aunts and 8 year old nieces etc.

Last year I started blogging with a group of people and it was a bit of a disaster for various reasons not worth going into here. But in those early days of blogging I did not have a clue what I was doing, and still don´t really, but at least now I have been reading other people´s blogs and have spent a few months thinking about what I want to achieve by blogging.

So in my research into other blogs I had lots of fun but did not find many blogs about people like me, emigrant mothers who took a cross cultural walk on the wild side. There are endless blogs about people skipping off to a new life on paradise islands and making dream holiday destinations their home a bit like all those endless TV shows in the UK. They are usually doing this with a partner who is from their own culture so they can sit and moan together if things do go wrong. Easy peasy lemon squeezy I say to those bloggers but good for you for working out how to have the easy life and pulling it off. Maybe I will visit you one day in paradise.

Also the other kind of blog which seems to involve moaning about your adopted country. A lot of these, white folks in the brown world being a little bit too superior for my liking. I even found foreigners blogging in my own country, Americans lamenting about the lack of Tex Mex food, the lack of shopping malls and how tomato ketchup does not taste the same in the UK. I´ll keep my comments to myself on this particular topic!

I even read an awful blog set up by a horrible American (who is now in prison) who just seemed to spend all his time slagging off Guatemala, the country which had actually given him and his family refuge from the FBI for a couple of years. Some people are never grateful!

So I promise that I will not spend too much time moaning or criticising Guatemala or Cuba but will try to share my feelings with you as I discover things good and bad. I am a qualified social psychologist so I try to approach things in an investigative manner. There is always a reason why people behave as they do. The interesting thing is to peel back the layers of the onion to find out why. This way I am always learning and thinking about research topics for when I do return to work!

I am a mother of 3 children but I promise to veer away from the endless cutsey Hello magazine indulgent posts about my children. But you shall be hearing about them, the good and the bad! Paulo, Nico and Saskia, my gorgeous little hybrids.

I am not very whizzy with most things technical but I´ll try to get better at putting the odd link to something interesting.

I promise to try to see the world with the sense of humour that my culture is famous for but at the same time I may need to share the important stuff with you too. Why? because I do care about the world and the mess we seem to have got it into!