CUBA: An Artist's Paradise in a Poverty Striken Country

quick sketch I did of street musicians

I have just spent 16 days in Cuba. The odour of Havana's streets is still on the soles of my shoes, the aromatic scent of its coffee and cigars still in my throat and the blaze of Caribbean colours still fueling my imagination. And needless to say., the music underscores my collective memories of this amazing country. My overall impression of Cuba is that it will purge from even the most diehard communist any sympathies for that particular brand of social order; it will also leave you humbled in awe at the indomitable  resilience and fortitude of the human spirit in the face of dire circumstances. The only thing you will find in plentiful supply and consistently available is the charming temperament of the Cuban people. Everything else is subject to shortages, delays, inconsistencies, and contradiction. Lengthy queuing is part and parcel of the most ordinary tasks: collecting their rations, accessing a bank,obtaining a sim card. Supermarkets and pharmacies share a common feature: their shelves are invariably half empty. Plumbing is archaic which accounts for rivulets of water running down virtually every street. Everything leaks. Every so often the pungent odour of sewerage assaults your senses,and yet in the midst of all this shocking poverty, you cannot walk far without hearing music. Music wafting out of hallways where families sit talking or watching TV while children mull around entertaining themselves with a piece of string and a ball. Music blaring from tinny speakers inside the ubiquitous souped up Chevy. 

usual scene in a bar/restaurant..
you just cannot NOT respond to their music!

Virtually every restaurant and cafe has a live band of musicians playing periodically throughout the day. Couples suddenly downing their coffee cups and dancing around the tables is a common sight. Street musicians play to the pedestrians on street corners and in the beautifully restored paizzas of old Havana. The quarter of Havana Vieja where i stayed for half my vacation is remarkable. Its streets are lined with the most beautiful old mansions, many of which have been exquisitely restored, many of which stand like disembowled skeletons, their grimy hollow interiors exposed to the sky. A capsized roof does not exempt a building from being inhabitable. Lower floors will have an inner ribcage of huge wooden beams. Often where a building has collapsed, the adjoining buildings will be kept upright by supporting beams spanning the void between them. Even in that hollow it is common for shanty rooms to be erected from sheets of corrugated iron and detritus rescued from other ruins.

street art

Art is everywhere. The creative soul of the Cubans is vibrant and irrepressible and manifests itself in a myriad of ways. You'll see it on walls livening up the dingiest street, on roadside shacks selling fruits and veggies, and in the plentiful galleries. Clearly the exercise of artistic expression is supported and encouraged by the State, thank ye Gods..There is a huge indoor market heaving with art stalls located alongside the harbour and I was impressed. I'd swiftly pass by the many stalls selling commercial stuff but every now and then I'd be stopped in my tracks by some exquisite art that was selling for peanuts. I rarely buy art when i travel but there's always a first time, and this trip was it. In so many ways.

Bought a painting from this excellent artist

Drive out to the suburbs of Havana and you will see another story. Row upon row of villas shielded from the leafy avenue by well maintained lawns. Everywhere is green. Thick dense rich green made up of trees and plants bursting from the soil. A common household plant which may feature in a European house or a Mediterranean courtyard is at first unrecognizable in Cuba simply because it is absolutely huge. The contrast between the apparent affluence of these suburbs and inner Havana is disturbing.

More on our adventures around the Cuban countryside in my next post...including hikes through the valley of the Cow Shit Mountains, swimming in BOTH the Caribbean Sea and the Atlantic, a trek down to Trinidad, the town heaving with music and the Magical Mystery Tour bus that took us off route for no rhyme or reason on a milkrun through the Bay of Pigs!

(you can view a selection of photos of this trip in my FB album: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151503835779924.552968.717059923&type=3