Is it Pork? Is it Chicken? Is it Fish? Who Knows!? : or How I Could Have Had a Latin Lover

I'm back from my two weeks in Cuba. It was absolutely wild, and clichéd in all its glory. I kept a journal and wrote in it everyday, because this is what will be evaluated, so i've got lots of stuff to say, but it's not all interesting.

To sum up: Went to Havana which is dirty and falling apart, but also charming and warm. All the Cuba I saw looked like it had 200 years of perma-grime on it The cars are from the fifties (Chevys, Dodges and Ladas), and the shops are very discreet, most of them carry hair products and soaps. The food was unbelievably bad, but by the end, some things grew on me. Things were cheap, but not very enticing. The film culture there is amazing. You can see a film for about $.50 CAN. The people aren't particularly friendly, but I suppose they don't have to be. The beach we went to was like paradise. Turquoise water and all. I went in and it was awesome. There were guards everywhere, surveying everything. It was creepy, but they were usually nice.

The school was in the middle of nowhere, and it was absolutely refreshing to be cut off from civilization. People talk to each other, they lounge around, they work hard, they are generally really friendly. The first few days I was sort of out of it, since I had a bad cold, but when I regained my strength, I got to know a few people. Notably a certain Marxist who is the Latin equivalent of Mchl, with less math and more politics. He is absolutely brilliant, he knows all movies from everywhere, all the lyrics to american classics and is nice and un-intimidating to boot. We went for a walk one evening, it was sunset, it could have been totally romantic, but obviously, it couldn't be.

I was stressed by his liking me, so I sort of avoided him for 3.5 days. Then, the guilt. The guilt! I felt bad about treating someone so kind so poorly. Every time I saw him, I felt bad. It consumed me for a few days. Then later at a party we spoke again and broke the ice. The last night was the crazyest. The whole time I was in Cuba I partied like I've never partied before (dancing wildly, staying up until 5.30am, you name it), but the last night we were required to stay up all night. So we did. The Marxist, another girl and myself sort of stuck together (she had my back so as to avoid awkwardness). At some point we went to his room to listen to traditional cuban music (the wonderful Bola de Nieve) with other people and not long after they left, I said, we should head back. As we were walking back, he said 'we should go back to my room' and I said 'oh, I can't do that' and he asked why not and I said I had someone in Canada. Then he said he was jealous of this person, then he talked about living in the moment (trying to convince me -- obviously) and asked if he could kiss me. I said no and when he kept insisting, I said I didn't want to do anything that would put me in a bad situation and then he said ok because he didn't want to put me in a bad situation. The rest of the night was sort of awkward, but I was getting too tired to do anything about it. After breakfast, he walked me and another girl home. He came in our apartment after I told him I had something to give him (a kind of notebook I use) and then he gave me hugs and kisses on the cheek. Then he tried to kiss me, but I wouldn't let him. I said no. I could feel him shaking a little bit as he hugged me. He said: 'this is harder than I thought', and as we were parting he said 'you smell nice. I want to remember how you smell'. Then he left.

I was all hot inside. I sat down and cried a little bit. I cried because I felt guilty. I felt guilty because I didn't like him as much as he liked me. I think I was also crying because it is sort of a stressful place to be holding someone's heart in your hands, and then it was a relief that it was over. I think we might keep in touch, but with such things, one never knows.

Overall the trip was an amazing experience. I thought a lot about art, art history, film culture, cuban film, guerrilla cinema, and maybe making a film.

This is a picture one of my classmates took. My pictures were 35mm, so I need a little time to get them developed. In the meantime, here's a shot of Havana.