Day 5

Day 5

I haven’t written for the past three days, mainly because I haven’t had much to write about. My cousin was supposed to pick me up  four nights ago and take me out, but she later called to apologize as something had come up and she couldn’t make it. I told her it was ok. She said that we would go out this week. She said I wasn’t going to be disappointed. I have to admit that I am intrigued and looking forward to it.  On Monday  I spent time with my grand mother. We went to the farmers’ market and bought some food for the week. The farmers’ market is different here. The fruits and vegetables look like they actually came from the farm. The potatoes are still caked with red clay,  and their sizes vary greatly,  although they are mostly very small. The mangoes are much bigger than the ones from back home though, oh, but they are actually much much sweeter. My grandma says the prices are very high, and she can barely afford anything. Especially when compared with what my uncle makes. I have to ask my mom about prices in LA. I wonder how expensive are these prices.

Yesterday my uncle took the day off from work and came to pick me up in his work-issued lada. It’s a very tiny car that looks like a box. I must confess that it’s actually nice to be able to say that I went out with my grandma, and that my uncle drove me around. Growing up I remember my friends going to see their grandparents, and their cousins and uncles, and I always wondered what that would be like.  It’s actually very nice. We drove along the boardwalk into old Havana. When we got to “El Casco Historico”--the historic heart of Havana--he parked the car, and we went for a walk. I saw old buildings and colonial castles and fortresses.  We walked through streets that were very narrow and crusted with worn cobblestones. We stopped at a small café on a side street facing “El palacio de los capitanes generales.”
“So what do you think of La Habana.” - he asked me as we sat eating.
“It’s beautiful” - I said.
“Yes it is. But you don’t think so, and you don’t have to lie.”
“I do like it” - I said, feeling my cheeks glowing red.
“You know, I am glad you came. A man should always know where he comes from. And you might have been born there, but you came from here.”
I kept eating, and we grew quite for a while. I sat eating and watching the people walking in the park across the street. Beyond the park I could see the masts of large ships floating idle on the bay.
“Do you like to read?”
“Yes I do. Very much” - I said.
“I’ll bring you a couple of books tomorrow. Hopefully it will help dim  the boredom.”
“Do you like Hemingway?”
“I have heard of him, but have never read any of his stuff.” I said.
“I have read all of his stuff. You may like it. I’ll bring you a book or two.”
We finished eating, and walked to the park. There, I saw the statue of Carlos Manuel de Cespedes “El padre de la patria.”
“In 1868 he freed his slaves in order to kickoff  the cuban war of Independence. He is called the Father of our Nation because he fought for our independence, and wouldn’t give up the struggle even when his son was captured.” - said my uncle admiring the monument.
“I hear that they are planning to put another statue in front of him next year.”
“Oh really?” I asked
“Yeah, a giant middle finger made of white limestone.” He said laughing as we walked off. I chuckled, and followed him. As we walked, my uncle pointed out historic buildings and statues. His love for the city was visible in his descriptions and even in gestures as he pointed here and there; he seemed to caress the silhouettes of the structures.
“Beneath the rubbles and chains, lies a beautiful city.” he said.
“La Habana is like a raped virgin.” He added, as we walked up towards “El Castillo de la Real Fuerza.”
I didn’t understand what he meant and I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to ask, so we just walked. He pointed our a few more building on our way back to the car.
Even though I can’t say that I see the beauty he sees, I must admit that his enthusiasm is admirable. I think he is a great guy to love so much something that isn’t beautiful.

That was yesterday, and in a very real way it was fun. I hope I get to hang out with my uncle more.