Day 3 Tues the Beach and a tour of old havana
Brandon and I wake up at the usual 5:30 with the roosters yelling...I smell gas?? propane gas...get up and check the kitchen in our hotel room...no leaks...smell ok...(i would later find out that the propane tank for the big house was right outside next to our window...DAM shame..I told the lady of the house and she turned it off
Brandon and I let Steve (who was fighting a cold) and AUstin sleep (still dreaming of chickas and Salsa dancing)
so first we walked to the beach...It was absolutely GORGEOUS....the most beautiful beach I have ever seen...I have always thought Clearwater Beach was the best in the world...but this beach is truly spectacular....the water is several colors of blue and green as far as the eye can see (the sand at Clearwater is a little whiter)...and the beaches in Hawaii are terrible ("the King has NO Clothes")....I have heard that Panama Beach is nice...will have to check that one out soon...
back to the main road and they are EMPTY at sunrise...too much fiesta last night...lol...we walk to the Bar of the night before and the stage is gone...los chickas are gone too...and they are washing down the floor...(are those Mexican cleaning the floor?)
we run into a school a few blocks off the main road and B and I decide to go check it out...just like all around the world...parents are walking or driving their kids to school....they are all dressed up in their uniforms with red scarf...and they line in perfect rows as a Boombox playes the Nation Anthem...a scene played out all over the world....the teacher encouraging the students to sing...the kids only thinking about Christmas and the Beach and a day of vacation
some teachers arrive late...hey they seem to be African-Cubano....same scene in the US and apparently all around the world
we stop out of respect to watch the flag go up...someday soon Cuba will be a Free Cuba...and it will happen sooner than later...Gaston reunion in Havana 2014 seems more of a reality
as we walk the street and take a picture in front or this beautiful old church (can be seen on Google earth)...I tell my son a deep deep secret...he is a little worried that it might be about marriage or sex...but it is about basketball and a father and son
in 2005, after watching Brandon play in basketball games since he was 7 years old...after we had made the trip back and forth to the same school called Berkeley in Tampa 10,000 times!! starting when B was 3 years old and went with me to summer camps...he had helped the Berkeley team win 3 straight district titles...his junior with Spiros Federigos they were 3 pts away from going to State (xavier and fx in the stands in St PEte to witness the fathom foul...and Admiral Faragut 6'10" Speights who won 2 national titles at UF and now plays in the NBA)....In 2005, B's senior year and captain of the team and leader of the school, we played our arch rivals Tampa Prep in regionals...with 4 minutes to play...Brandon fouled....the best all around player on the team...the captain..the 41% shooter from the threes...foul out
the team scored 4 pts the rest of the game without its leader Brandon....and so we lost...and denied States one more time....a goal set by father and son when the son was 10 years old and playing on three different teams....
so the gym clears and the parents anxiously await their sons exit from the locker room....everyone came out except my B...so I go in to see where he is...we both catch each other's eye and cry and hug for eternity...about 5 minutes
those 10,000 trips to school come rushing through our mind...the first day of PRe-school when he had his FIRST quiz...the teacher told him to reach down on the table and pick out his NAME on a button...cono, the first day!!! and a quiz...I whispered "the other B, the other B" since there were two kids name that started with a B
we hugged and cried as we remember all those great wins...especially the last second 3 pts from deep corner to beat Jesuit and their cocky students...the wins over Tampa Prep where we hug each other each time...looking for each other at the buzzer to hug and celebrate...sharing a special moment of pride and triumph...
we cried about being the LAST high school game...and going off to college soon...the last game in this gym where he had spent the last 18 years since he could walk and he would watch his Pops play Sat ball with the alums
we cried and we cried for those 5 minutes...I could not be any prouder...and we cried again on the streets of Varadero...and I said "I think about that day every day"....It did not matter that he would play more games for MIT and help them win 20 games in a season for the first time in that school's 100 year history....that he would win the MIT Team's award voted by the players as the best "team player" and he was only a freshman...and I was there at MIT to see him get that award
so after that moment...we continued on our journey...a different journey now...one filled with dreams of a trip to MARS and a wedding in California in Aug....
we run into this old man and his granddaughter setting up their little shop in front of their little house on the busiest street in varadero beach...and I stop to give my respects...I love the old people...those over 80, who have seen Cuba BC (before castro) and saw all their friends leave the island...and then endure the next 50 years under Castro and Russia...."Cuba Si, Russo NO!!"
i asked this old man if he has lived here all his life...he says yes...I asked him if he has ever heard of El D and the Gaston family....and he thinks for a few minutes...and says YES with a smile (we both know he needs to sell something in order to have a fiesta at Christmas)
i then ask him about the way he displays his cross and his faith around his neck....and he says "Castro is NOT God...he can take away my country, but he can not take away my soul"...and we hug and I walk away crying....Brandon later tells me the old man is crying too
i made up my mind that I would bring Steve and Austin back to this tourist trap and buy as much as we can (even though every thing at Varadero is twice as much as in Havana)
Brandon and I walk and walk talking about life...talking about marriage, etc...talking about what all sons 24 years old and fathers 55 years talk about while on vacation
we try to walk into a regular size hotel (probably the famous ones from the 1950's....now the beach has monster resorts built by European companies...making a fast buck from the European tourist and Canadians who enjoy sticking their nose up in the air at the American embargo...the 4 american chickas we met were all from Canada)
we get stopped immediately since we do NOT have the bracelet around our wrist....for $250 a day...this "includes all" bracelet includes room, food,liquor, everything...beach rental, discoteque, and even tips!! no money needed once you have the bracelet...and probably hotel chickas too...very clean, certified by the Govt doctors...ala LAs Vegas and NY City and Miami Beach
so we find a little cafe run by a pretty woman named MAria...we oder some American coffee and some pan..."sorry no bread today"...but MAria finds us some kind of crackers and she is proud to say some strawberry jam given to her by a tourist...no, no, I just made that up...but she does give us Cuban honey...and I get hooked on that...
as we sip our coffee on the main road in Varadero we see the tourist city come to life...and more and more people start opening up their little markets...we also see man riding their bicycles with these huge 4 feet by 6 feet high wooden shelves filled with trinkets...but they do not stop at the regular hotels (the famous old hotels of the 50's) they are going up to the NEW resorts the Russians built in the 70's and 80's when things were good and the US boycott the Olympics in Russia and then Russia boycott the Olympics in the US...and Ted Turner than started the World Games every 4 years on the off years of the Olympic...Ted Turner and her pinko wife JAne Fonda...oh they got divorce...GOOD!!... I am sure Hanio JAne has had cafe con leche with the Castro brothers a few times....
we walk back to our hotel and wake up Austin...Steve is outside his room reading his Bible...sharing a special moment with his God...praying for the people of Cuba...and praying for my boys (i am sure)
my friend Steve just reminded me of the conversation I had with el grande basketball player the day before...I was calling him Moses MAlone and they did not understand...I mentioned the name Moses again...you know the man from the Bible...they did not know who moses was...and these were man who were pampered by their government and travelled around the world playing basketball for their country and Castro...they had stayed at hotel with Bibles in the desk, but they did not know who Moses was...and Steve laughing and laughing at my spanish and as I tried to explain Moses 10 commandments...what a horrible life to go without knowing the Bible and JEsus...Steve and his friends would change that quickly some day...they had converted MILLIONS in China...and the can do a few in Cuba...that is why I knew few in El D went to the chapel our fathers built...(by the way, my mother said that only the old ladies went to MAss back in the 1940's and 50's...It must be a Spaniard thing...all talk and no action)
we walk back down towards the main road and little cafe with MAria...who reminds me of all my older 8 sisters (Except maybe Lourdes the nun)...the 14 and 15 year old sister that had to work in the DC area when we first arrived to help pay the bills of 6 growing up and hungry brothers
we see our boy Javier, MrT driving down the street...and he has the biggest smile you can imagine...he gives us a bottle of RUM and we agree on a 2 pm departure...he drives off to spend the day with his friends in Varadero...I did NOT ask him about his wife...lol
we go back to MAria and we order lunch...Steve is now hooked on Cafe con LEche (here at Varadero everything seems to taste better)...there is a man in the corner who is watching us...he does not order and the people of the cafe seem to ignore him...he orders nothing...just stares at the people on the street and us (my first thought was that it might have been Maria's father...but no she says, it is no one of importance)...MAria enjoys serving Brandon and Austin and they make small talk in Spanish...she has a new born baby...a very bright young lady...she runs the entire cafe and is very proud of it too...the Cuban pride...the sun lights up her day...she is the future HOPE of our island
after breakfast/lunch....we finally headed to the BEACH and 75 degree crystal clear water...It did NOT even taste salty...go figure??...the waves were about 3 to 4 feet like Ft LAuderdale...enough to body surf...we walked out as far as we dare and still not worry about they sharks...we ran into a nice Canadian older couple....they were very funny with their French accent...Steve and B had a good 30 minutes conversation with them....I had to watch the towels and shoes, but our landlord told us that they get stolen...along with t-shirts and anything left on the beach...(the same thing happens at Miami Beach every day...we watch it on the Cops show on TV)
Brandon and I went for a walk while Steve watched the towels...and Austin played with the chickas in the water...boy this boy is just like his DAD...dam shame...thank goodness kids know about rubbers...learned about that in 6th grade...50% of high school kids are sexually active... not the kind the need in Cuba these days...does a cigar come to anyone's mind...It is said that Bill was talking to RUSSO while enjoying a good cigar...ok, ok, I will stop...the truth hurts too much sometimes....please no Bush jokes, he stole the election clean and square just like Kennedy did back in 1959 with his buddy Daley in Chicago...and Daly is still mayor of Chicago
B and I thought about walking down to the NEW resorts, but we had limited time...so we headed back to our towels...Austin was sleeping on the beach dreaming about las chickas and Salsa...and Steve with his PhD in Theology and Brandon who leads 2 different Bible study groups in Boston...discussed Jesus as we sat next to the water...like the Apostles 2,000 years ago...and the American Indians with their children did too until they got slaughter (not by Columbus) by the Spanish crown...
at 2 pm we headed back to our rooms and nice warm showers to wash the beautiful sand off our bodies...a little sand that I brought back to my NEW homeland...
well MrT got us from Varadero to Celia's in 1.5 hours a new world record...(when we told Gus he said, "did you guys take a helicopter?"....lol)
on the way in we asked MrT about the Tunnel under the harbor...he says the French gave it to Fidel as a gift in 1961 (I thought no way, no how...distorted history for sure...will have to check that one on wikki later)
at CnF we recharged our batteries and had a little coffee con leche...and retold some of our stories to CnF
then we got the call to go pick up Gus in downtown havana...what a trip...we drove through very narrow roads (one car only) with old 1800 buildings on both sides...children playing baseball and soccer in the streets...many standing around and chickas working...
when we finally stopped...MrT got out...and walked a block away...I walked behind but stopped in the middle of the intersection to get a feel for the entire neighborhood...I must of looked scary standing there at 6'6" with a full beard and dark blue collar shirt with a B on it (B for Berkeley...or B for Bad??)
slowly the people started to disappear...first the chickas...then the men...and finally the children...the streets became empty for one block in every direction...amazing...the fear of a stranger is there
meanwhile MrT motions for me to come up to the door of a building where Gus in plain clothes is standing the street and an old priest is standing in the doorway...I come walking up feeling about 9 feet tall...having spoken spanish for 3 days straight
"hola hombres....como estads?.... yo soy MANUEL SUAREZ-GASTON-CARRENO" like I had been saying it all my life
"what a wonderful day...que rigo" as we walk away I ask Gus who was that old priest...he says the CARDINAL of Cuba!!
dam shame...I felt to embarressed, but Gus said "you just made his day because you treated him like one of the guys"
so we all piled into the car and off to vieja habana we go with Gus
Gus is a very educated man...he help organize the Pope's visit to Cuba...he has given what we are about to receive "the Tour of Old Havana" to heads of states and heads of church
of course he starts off by speaking very highly of Manela and Toni who have housed him many times in DC...he also speaks of the recent visit from the Bishop of Miami and Cardinal O'Malley (Boston Cardinal and close friend of the Suarez-Gaston family)
Gus starts off by telling us about the statue of Chisto Jesus that watches over the harbor and all of havana...how the Russian ordered Fidel to tear it down...but Fidel refused calling it a historic monument to the past
Gus also verifies my hunch that the Tunnel under the harbor was indeed built by a French company, but that it was built in the 1950's BC and that they put up a Toll that would help the company make a little profit in 5 or so years (everything is mas o menos)
Gus explains to us that Havana was the Capitol of the New World in the 1700's...the spanish ships would be attacked by the British and French as they went back to Spain full of gold and silver from Mexico...the crown sent a small armada of Navy ships to escort the ships but they had to come to Havana first....so all the big ships had to gather in Havana harbor and await to form a convoy before heading back to Europe
Havana was the NY City of the New World....ships coming to the New World had to first register in Havana...where the Governor of the New World lived...
so many of those beautiful buildings of old havana were built in the European style...they have fallen to decay for the past 50 years and now were being resort at a great monetary expense to increase tourism in the capitol...there are Tour buses arriving every hour on the hour from Varadero Beach (only 2 hrs away)
the things that caught my eye was that on the outter roads of old havana...children were playing in the streets and adults were standing all around...but in Old Havana (where cars are NOT allowed)....only the tourist walked the streets (must be a regulation) the good thing about this is that there are NO beggers like the streets of NY and LA and most American cities
also we saw about 20 restaraunts on a Tues evening...and they were all empty...no one has money to eat here or maybe Christmas week is a LOW time for tourists
Brandon notice the big difference between the old buildings that have been restore and those on the outskirt of old havana...those building were old and decay...the insides were gutted out and they smell of urine...and poor people (they looked almost homeless) were living inside these cold and dirty places (just like in Detroit or Chicago or DC...where our poor live)
we visited the Church of Christopher Columbus where CC's bones are buried...go to Google earth and see the pictures there we saw the Cathedral of Havana...where the day before the Cardinal celebrated a BIG mass with famous musicians from Miami...Gus claims he will send MAne a DVD of the event (that is the group who had our VAN from the "US interest")
we saw a beautiful chapel dedicated to Mother Teresa....with a beautiful garden...a jewel in this old city...a MUST see if you visit Old Havana
the Governor's mansion where all the nobles who visited the NEw World were required to visit and pay homage
the driveway in front of the Gov Mansion was made of wooden bricks...this would soften the sound of the hoofs from the horse drawn carriages...
we finally visited a little artist/tour trap shop with beautiful paintings drawn by the local artists...you have never seen brighter reds or yellows or oranges as they try to capture the power of the setting sun...the intrique art work on the wooden pieces...of course nothing under 5 or 600 dollars...most are in the $1,200 range
after our 2 hour tour, Gus excuses himself that his wife has dinner waiting...and to be careful about using his name for future tours because he is a very busy man and the church keeps him very busy...
we go walking around to find a place to eat dinner...grown man dressed in waiters outfits stand in front of their restaraunts "calling the tourist to come in and eat"....but most tourist settle for the Beer House or the Coffee House on the edges of the BIG central plaza which looks like very other plaza I have seen in Europe...with the water fountain, the pigeons, the difference with this one is that there are dozen of dogs roaming the plaza...Gud told us that the poor people try to have dogs but can not afford to feed them, so they let them loose...and the Tourist feed them from their tables (like the tourist and the birds on the beach here in Clearwater...and then the birds poop all over the people) in old havana there is dog shit everywhere...be careful where you step!!...by the way, if this had been China...those dogs would be someone's meal
we get talked into this very old house restaraunt by a very young handsome looking man who says "all included"...salad, arroz, yucca, drink..."all incuded"...that caught our accountants ear...Austin...
CnF had offered to cook a feast Tues night our last night in Havana...but we really wanted to spend the last night in Havana City
looking back I should have invited CnF to eat with us...my bad (like my sons like to say)....the rooms had turned into an hotel more than a relatives place...I will have to remember for next time...plus we always have "coffee con leche"...and the food we do not eat at the hotel will last our friends for days...(the mind rationalize to excuse...yes, an invite is the proper thing to do)
Gus gave us a great tour...with much historical background...we hung on his every word...no question was too small for Gus...he definitely had a passion for HIS city (at Berkeley we called it the "EC Tour" for our beloved faculty member of 50 years who gave his life and blood for Berkeley very much the same I did...except I have 2 sons to enjoy my journey with....10,000 trips from home to school and that was Brandon only 1990-2005)
we were coasted into a very old building...with NO customers (something we saw all over the city)...and were served by several men
the entire time I was thinking about these men and what type of degrees they had...so far we had met an accountant who was a driver, a chemical engineer who was told to run a farm, a doctor who is forced to run a hotel business (cleaning toilets and cooking) to help her son succeed in life, this sceniro played out all over MyCuba
i wonder about these men and what they must be thinking about as they wait for customers and clean tables and sweep the floor
i remember of many of my teachers friends many with Masters degree...cutting grass during the summer, painting houses, parttime DJ, working in the Mall during the holidays, doing 2 or 3 extra jobs (that's me), one even waited tables at Burns Steak House in Tampa and claim to make MORE "take-home pay" as a waiter than teaching...
so I guess it happens here in the US too
Javier once again sits at the Head of the Table...he is our Father, he is the MAN!!!, he is in charge...and again he starts ordering all kinds of food and drinks for us "un Sprite for our friend from America...dos Mojitoes por los muchachoes mas grande...y one Cuba libre por me amigo el papa"....and then he adds "and these are FREE correct? they come with the meal that they told us includes everything?"
Javier once again is our protector...knew then that I had met a NEW hermano...thinking of Kevin Costner in Dancing with Wolves
of all the people I met in Cuba...If he wanted to escape...he would be the only one that I would risk my life to help...except maybe the little boy...but then maybe leaving Cuba would kill my new hermano...the sadness of the US can be overbearing for good people from other lands
Sidebar
in 2000, the US was caught in a war in Europe...where one race of people were trying to wipe out another race (after the collapse of the Russian Empire in 1990)...our president Bill Clinton dropped bombs every where and even hit the Chinese Embassy (I wonder how many dollars that cost us...i would guess at least 1 Billion dollars in trade secrets for the "NEW Bear in the rising"....China...what i have penned as the "Flatland War" (1990 to present)..in honor of our friend at NY TImes, Friedman....they say IBM took down the USSR and McDonalds will take down China...political correctness might take down the USA, right now experiencing the worst Holocaust in recorded history with 50 million killed and counting)
so this family of 5 children, 2 parents and a grandparent landed on our doorstep at Berkeley Prep...the Catholic church of Incarnation housed the family...the priest giving up his house and moving in with a friend of the church (these are the kinds of stories you do NOT read about in the liberal press)
i heard of the family through my chuch and in the newspaper
when MY family came to the US in 1962 there were many families that helped up...we stayed 2 by 2 in different people's homes...when we finally all got together in DC area...living in a 2 bedroom apartment...5 brother in one room with bunk beds and 3 sisters in the other room...my parents sleeping in the living room in a fold out couch...and ONE BATHROOM...(many times i had to pee in the kitchen sink...thank God i was tall enough)
St Anselms Abbey gave the 4 brothers scholarships...to get the BEST education in the DC area (we went onto Villanova (2), UVA and JU, but offered at Harvard and Georgetown)
the brothers (real monks) would run a summer camp for the local children...this was DC in the 1960's...MLK and riots.... they knew if they share with the neighborhood kids our blessing, then they would look out for our property...a school they could NOT attend...in my 6 years there...we had very little vandalisma...step off the property and that was a differnt story which i told in my first book (2 Seconds to Go)
so now that i had worked my way up to administration and had grown the summer programs from 80 kids to over 3,000....i offered with the HEadmaster's permission (Joe Merluzzi a Sicilian) this family from Kosvo 5 free scholarships to our summer school called Summer of Excellence...it helped that our LD principle (Joanne Moore "mother queen") was from Phili and had also seen many poor people there
i asked for the help of my son Brandon to be with these kids 24/7 while on campus...i also asked the help of a few other alums that were helping me during the summer (one of the proudest moments of summer work...hiring alums)
we sat down (headmaster, LD prinicple, LD counselor and myself) and tried to be proactive...and think of things that might work or not work
1. the youngest was too young 3 or 4 years old and should stay home with the grandmother
2. we would keep the oldest (10 years old) with the youngest (5) as a class helper...
3. the two middle ones ( 7 and 8) seem comfortable enough to be on their own with older sister nearby and help of Brandon and our wonderful LD teachers
4. we would have to provide transportation and meals
5. we would have to keep an very close eye on them those first couple of days...Moore and I looking in on them frequently asking the teachers for progress report...just watching them during break and lunch 6. we would have to give them a tour of the classroom on the Sat BEOFRE they started...to get them used to the facilities...we realize simple things like goint to the bathroom would have to be addressed by the teacher...going swimming in the pool would have to thought about...they would need bathing suits...thank goodness they were Catholics and not Moslim...that would have present many different issues
so that SAt...as we were giving the tour...(we had just built a two story grade 4 and 5)...the 3 years old in his excitement ran down the hallway and right INTO the FULL size glass window next to the door leading outside
BOOM...down goes Frazier!!....thank God the window did NOT break...all he got from it was a big goose egg and the Mom from Kosvo laughing
i was worried this might NOT be as easy as i thought...but the Headmaster said don't panic yet...give it a couple of days (i love those family loving Sicilians)
the kids adjusted very well, very quickly...our teachers were awesome as usual
one little snag was when the fire alarm went off...according to the teacher, some of children tucked under their table (i remember doing the same thing in the 1960's in the USA during the Cold War with Russo...put your head between your kneed and kiss your butt goodbye..is what we used to say)
but the mother was very disappointed with the rest of the American experience...she said the children spent way too much time watching TV...and the shows on TV were all pornographic...even the most popular TV show of the time Simpson was unacceptable
the oldest was a daughter and even at 10 years old, she was asking questions of things she had heard of at the playground near their church house....and the way ladies dressed was unacceptable
so after only one summer, the family decided that the USA was not a good place to raise a family and they moved back to war torn Kosvo
MyCuba- Tues night - the black market cigar story
so Austin had insisted as the best man at his brothers wedding on Aug 20, 2011, he needed Cuban Cigars...but the cigars Cohibos costed $240 a box in Havana streets...way too much for this group
so MrT our driver said "i know a cousin who has a cousin who knows a friend....that can give us a good deal"
at that point i knew we were in trouble....but Austin was excited and Steve Kitchens did not object...and i was not thinking clearly after 3 night of only 4 hours of sleep a night....with the dogs at night and roosters in the morning
we drove out of havana...4 lane road, turns into a 2 lane road, turns into a 1 lane road...and then a left onto a DIRT road...we are in the slums (this is where drug deals go down...for sure...plenty of chickas on the street corners as cars with diplomatic plates drive by)
there are NO street lights and most houses are dark...you can barely see the hand in front of you...we pull up to this one shack which has 3 layers of defense....front doot with bars of course, dogs (I make friend with one named Rocky) and the front gate to a high fence
this 70 year old man comes out and unlocks the many locks to let us in...MrT is in the front and 4 grande Americanos who come mucho get out of this little car....you can almost sense all the eyes of people looking at us through the neighborhood windows..
we enter the shack and the first thing i notice is that they do not have doors between rooms, just curtains...and then a 70 year old crusty looking women comes out of the back room in her bathrobe or nightgown with a cigaretter hanging down from her lips...and the lady and MrT start talking "la business" (this is one of my favorite lines from the Godfather...it was the only Italian i understood)
they are talking way too fast for me to understand...plus i was looking around and watching the old man lock our three escapes out the front way...thank goodness the kitchen looked like the 1950's in USA complete with the old table with some kind of fake marble pasted on table clothes...
then the lady started bringing all kinds of cigars from the back room..."estos son muy fuerte...estos son thin..." Austin eyes light up...and Brandon the older brother graps a cigar and smells it like he is testing for freshness...Steve and I are laughing inside
then the haggling over prices began...the entire time we were on the island MrT told us that we do NOT haggle over prices in Cuba...5 pesos means 5 pesos...Austin tested it a few times and it was true...although the owner always seem to throw a little extra gift our way..."go ahead pick another painting...it is on me"...mucho gusto
Austin starts at 20 and the lady says 80....austin offers 30 and the lady says 60 (wow that was a quick drop)...austin overs 40 and the lady says ok!!...then austin says 70 for BOTH!!...and after thinking about it for a few seconds...the lady reluctantly says ok...
i would have paid 80 dollars just for the beautiful boxes...
the the lady brings out this goreous big beautiful cigar box empty and seems to be tell MrT that if he ever has a big fish, that they can sell this for Million pesos...Austin eyes light up again...no, no, Austin "million" means thousand in Spanish....apparently the diplomats from other contries are willing to pay $1,000 for a BIG box of very long Cuban cigars
I say, that would be a beuatiful box for my headmaster...who loves a good cigar once a day...and Austin say 10 pesos for the box
the poor lady did NOT want to let that beautiful BIG cigar box go..she needed it for the BIG fish with mucho dinero
austin offered 10 pesos again...and the old lady said "no puedo"...not for sale
then MrT our protection...spoke...."10 PESOS!!"...and the poor lady got real quiet and got deary eye
i have a few theories....(my sons always laugh when i say that...started to say that when Brandon then 20 years old and a big MIT college student...told the little one Austin about 16 and fighting me all the way...you know "Dad is NOT always right"...dam that is all the little one needed to hear to break all hell loose)
the driver had SET THE PRICE 10 pesos...that meant she had to give it up...that might have meant that what ever share he was suppose to get from the 70 original offer...he was throwing in his share...that meant that if she ever wanted him to bring more customers in the future, she better sacrifice this box to his new hermanos de USA
so the poor old lady started wrapping the boxes in old Cuban newspaper that Austin called propaganda newspaper (oh you mean like the NY TIMES....lol)
as we headed out i gave the lade another $20...but she did NOT smile...she wanted that $1,000 big fish
now we were all walking VERY TALL....we had survived the Black MArket...the shakey surroundings..and we made a killing
then we notice the little blue car with the little european blue light on top...it passed our new car with red dilpomatic plates and 4 grande americans coming out of a shack with cigar boxes....
our driver said "vamous" and put his finger on his lips....quietly, quietly
all kinds of thoughts went through my head now...Cuba does NOT recognize the US citizenship..they still say i am a Cuban citizen since i was born in havana in 1955...i am a traitor who left his homeland and plotted with the evil USA against Cuba...i am related to Manuel Suarez-Carreno who was sent to prison in 1960 along with my sisters...
there are no jury trials in Cuba...only two options...prison or be shot...DAM!! what if i can never go back to the USA...MR Merluzzi told me he would not get me out of jail...and my best friend Cook said he wanted my office..lol
so we quietly shuffled our feet towards the car...no longer feeling 6'6" tall....more like little mouses or worse RATS in the Cuban slam
we piled into the little car as the little policia made a u-turn and headed our way...MrT rolled the car down the dirt road with our light off...now i could see very clearly...no street lights needed when your heart is going 120 beats per minute
when we got to the main road, MrT fired her up and off we went back to Havana and safety of diplomatic plates
it took us 30 minutes to get to the little shack, but only 10 minutes to get back to CnF house...MrT did 80 all the way...i do not remmber ONE single red light....MrT was real nervous...because he too could have gone to jail..or lost his professional transporter card...which alllowed him to make 30 dollare a day!! a wage for a king in Castro's Cuba
so MrT dropped us off after an exciting day...of beach, old havana and black market adventures and we asked him to be back at 9 am to drive us to the airport...he looked tired for the first time on the trip...lol
we decided NOT to go to bed but to have one LAST drink at the bar across the street from our hotel
the bimps in the street tried to talk us into chickas..but we said NO thanks...
the bar was not as full this night...and the barman knew us from the previous night and that we were althetes and good tippers...we bought a round of beers, Cuba libras, mohitos and a sprite for our American hermano
i noticed some american ladies and went over to talk to them...the boys were too tired from the beach and tour and cigars saga
they were from Canada...and the guy from Spain...the third person was Cuban and wanted to know about el grande Americano
so Brandon came over to talk the student from Canada...and the Cuban lady come over to talk to Steve
she asked Steve his name...(i was the interpertor)...he said "Estaben Cusinos" (he had learn this from his many missinary trips to Coata Rica and Honduras and even Haiti...steve was hoping to find the mission from his Church in the Havana area...we never did find it...dam)....
the Muere asked again "trabajo en la cusina??".......Austin almost fell off his chair laughing....i said no, no es nombre is Estab Cusinos
then she said something about wanting to do something in the kitchen.....Austin almost busted a gut...Austin says he wish he had a video of this lady banging her breast against my ear as i tried to listen...and then me trying to interpret from spanish to English and then back from English to spanish...
the lady would say 3 sentence in spanish...and i would translate...Steve she says "you are beautiful"
another 3 sentences in spanish..and i would translate....Steve she says "you're perfect"
i will have to let Austin tell what she said next...that caused Austin to laugh so much that he had to go to the bathroom before peeing in his pants..lol
i told the muere that that was enough and please go back to her friends...and she did
i went to retrieve Brandon from the canadian and spaniard guy...when i came back...2 chickas had sat down next to Austin (one with a breast exposed)....i told the manager...please get these ladies out of here...we are NOT interested!!
(I must admit that the same thing happens whenever i got out to a bar with my boys...heads turn and before i know it they are in a conversationg with USA chickas....etc...and when we walk through the airport with Steve Kitchens heads are constantly turning)
somos la familia Suarez-GAston...and everywhere we go people want to know
as the night wind down and we did not want our last night to end...only the bartender and the cook remained...another strange looking man sat at the bar and never smiled...just stared..he did NOT drink either
so i stood up to stretch my legs....the kids and Steve were getting some ice cream bars...the cook said wait a minute i have some FRESH ice cream right here...it tasted heavenly
so i asked the bartender/manager who had kicked out the chickas, who is the best Cuban baseball player...and he yells El Duque (Duque Hernandez played for the Yankees and won a World Series...his brother played for the Fla Marlins and they also won the World Series...there is a Classic commercial where both brothers (defectors from Cuba) show their American Express card and their World Series ring full of diamonds...and say "What a wonderful country"....lol
then i bring up Roger Clemens...and everyone starts screaming and arguing...even the strange man at the bar chimes in...everyone has an opinion and it seems to me who ever is the loudest thinks they have won the argument
then i bring up the OLD Luis Tiant who won 3 world series game in one year...a very rare feat...and again everyone started arguing....
we tried to pay our bill, but the bartender/manager waves me off and sais..."buenas noches amigos de america"....i still left a $20 on the table....as we left they were still arguing about the best pitcher from Cuba...misson accomplished
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