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Published: November 16th 2010
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Kiran’s Musings Today makes 4 weeks in Cuba. Describing a routine will be impossible as one has not yet emerged. I therefore will just give some examples and stories as a glimpse of our life here so far.
Cuba has modernized in various ways since our last visit almost 2 years ago. Some new small Japanese cars have taken the place of many of the classic old Chevys that filled picture books of Cuba. Large Mercedes buses are the main long distance travel options for Cubans and visitors. Some houses now have hot water heaters and washing machines. It is not common, yet I have seen numerous youth walking down the streets with earphones and small mp3 type music players. Cell phones are available yet conversations are brief as each minute is about 50 cents, a very large sum when you consider that most salaries are about $20 a month.
Conversely, there are still loads of classic old cars, buses and bikes. Buildings for the most part are still run down. The highways are still used by horse and carriage, tractors, old smokey farm trucks, pedestrians and bikes. Some road work has made parts of the wide stretch of highway near Havana safer and more comfortable. Yet, within 4 hours of leaving Havana, the road narrows and all the challenges of sharing a 2 lane road begins.
On our 10 day trip to the eastern part of the island, we saw lots of horses being used in a variety of ways. In cities we saw horses pulling small covered wagon taxis carrying 10-15 people to and from their activities. I loved falling asleep listening to the clop- clop -clop of the horses passing by. On the highway, we saw many farmers riding their horses along the side of the roads or riding in the back of small wagons filled with hay or grass or various crops unknown to me.
In the cities in the East we also saw loads of bikes. It reminded me of China in the mid 80s. Dad driving, Mom on the cross bar holding baby with older sibling sitting on a bike rack fastened over the back tire. We saw loads of bici-taxis also and enjoyed in each town the pedestrian only shopping boulevards. We talked about what it would be like if down town Asheville was only for bikes, walkers and horse carriages….we liked the idea.
Food here is different than I expected. I somehow expected year round tropical fruits and veggies. We are not hungry, yet veggies and fruits are rare parts of our diet. We are served breakfast and lunch in the dining hall. This is a true gift as cooking in Cuba is about as difficult as speaking the language. Rice and beans have to be painstakingly separated. Meat is bloody and so unappetizing in its raw state that I have not been able to buy it and try cooking it. Finding eggs, and the other starchy vegetables depends somewhat on being at the right place at the right time. We are often able to buy platanos and avocados near our street corner. We buy soft air-filled bread rolls for about 15 cents from the “panadero” who wheels his cart by our house in the mornings. We have found pasta and spaghetti sauce and there are several pizza places in town we have tried.
Each morning we are served a roll for breakfast and a warm cup of sweetened powdered milk splashed with coffee. We are supplementing with an egg or a little oatmeal when we return to our house. Lunch is rice mixed with beans, a starchy root (yucca, sweet potato, etc.) a meat of some kind and a little something green. We have just started seeing small amounts of lettuce from the garden. Cucumbers were the daily veggie for the first 2 weeks and they have now been replaced with lettuce.
Papaya is the fruit in season. It is not a favorite for any us. Joy is just now able to tolerate being in the same room with it. We are on our own for dinner and usually have more rice and beans and cucumber or avocado.
Variety, as you can tell, is not a part of the diet here and I laugh as I think about the dreaded time of the weekend for me (at home in Asheville) making the menu for the week ahead. It felt like such a chore trying to think of different meals each night that each person would enjoy and eat. Well, let me just say we are into week 4 of rice and beans 2 times a day with very little variation as to what comes with it. My meal planning worries will never again be the same. The girls are not complaining and are gratefully diving into their pile of rice and beans with gusto. I will finish this food monologue by saying it is so strange for me to think of an Ingle’s grocery store. The year round variety of things, all the fresh fruits and veggies, the jam packed shelves of boxes, cans and jars, 24 hours a day and the cashiers speaking English. Strange indeed…..
Our days unfold quite differently each day. Joy reads several hours a day and is getting back into her love of piano by practicing, sometimes up to 1 ½-2 hours a day here at the seminary. Leigh plays outside a good bit and loves to make and serve coffee to the many guests that come by. Mark and I try our best to converse with the various students, professors, workers and visitors at the seminary. Neither of us have yet had the chance to think a minute about being bored. On the contrary, requests for Mark’s time are growing each day which is adding to the work he already has preparing for his first seminary class which starts Nov 22.
The girls and I enjoy the 20 minute walk into town whenever errands are needed. There is a 30-40 minute chapel service 4 mornings a week. We all enjoy this as the students often lead worship and the music is lively.
Joy and Leigh are both enjoying their music. We have found wonderful violin and piano teachers and they are approaching their classes with enthusiasm.
We still have days that our silly mistakes cause us to laugh until the tears come. We celebrate the moments we have where we feel in the flow and manage to follow a conversation the whole way through.
We read with delight the lovely cards, articles and church bulletins we received this weekend via our friends from Glendale Baptist. They came to be a part of the annual Fraternity meeting and visit their sister church. This morning we made a collage of the cards, photos, leaves and bird feathers and hung it proudly on the wall beside our eating table. We so feel the connection to our beautiful friends, family and circle of faith that has helped us in every way to this day and that which lies beyond.
Besos de- Kiran
Mark’s Musings I am wearing my jeans and a long sleeve shirt this morning - Amazing! After weeks of steady perspiration, a major cold front blew in this weekend. It brought wonderful relief and was just in time for The Fraternity of Baptists “Assembly” in Havana where we spent the weekend. It was some gathering. I would guess they had over 300 people from all over the island. The worships and workshops were fantastic and there was plenty of time to visit with old friends and make new ones. Five folks from our sister church in Camaguey were able to make it.
We stayed at the Martin Luther King Center in Havana, at least 30 minutes away from the host church. This added time and some logistical challenges to what were already long days. We did not get to bed until almost midnight on Friday and made the decision to leave early in the evening on Saturday since it was looking like another long night. As it turned out, our companions staying at the King Center did not roll in until almost 1 AM. The folks who came made quite a sacrifice, physically and economically, to get there. Many from the eastern end of the island (including the folks from our sister church) traveled all-night Thursday and faced an all-night return trip. With that kind of effort, it was clear they wanted to spend as much time together as possible.
A couple of things really stood out for me. I was so impressed with the quantity and quality of young leaders that are truly taking the reins within the Fraternity. On Saturday, they spent many hours wrestling with the language in their by-laws, particularly around the process of becoming a member church (yet another reminder that, in the end, all communities have to struggle with the same stuff).
The conversation, often quite heated, was appropriately lead and guided by the “next generation” with great skill and wisdom. As I told Paco on our way home, this weekend was quite a testament to the founding vision (Paco is one of the four founders of the Fraternity) which strived to create a home for Baptists who believed that the renewing vision of God can break out in all kinds of people, women and men, young and old, and those with all kinds of limitations and challenges. They imagined a church that celebrated the diverse voices and experiences of God, not shut them out. As a result, they were (and still are) cut off from dominant Baptist structures here that are heavily influenced by the dominant Baptist institutions in the US. But, as this weekend demonstrated, those early “deaths” have become the stuff for extraordinary new life, new life that is inspiring a new generation of Baptists in Cuba.
One moment in particular still burns in my heart. Communion was offered at the end of Sunday’s closing worship service. There were no instructions for how the gathered, hundreds of people, were to make their way to the one communion table. So, randomly, chaotically, but with great patience and anticipation, people started moving towards the altar. A song with the chorus, “ven, ven, ven” (come, come, come) began with a steady Cuban rhythm.
After receiving the bread and the wine, the first recipients started forming a train-like line. As a result, once communion was shared, one was suddenly directed towards the closest pair of shoulders and people spontaneously started dancing around the church. Later, someone confirmed what I expected. None of this was planned. The dancing train broke off into different sections so that everyone had a place, a spot to move and sing and celebrate. The train, in its various configurations, danced around the sanctuary for at least 20 minutes and was followed by another 30 minutes or so of singing and dancing around the altar. It did not matter that it was way past lunch time. Everyone was full. It was communion. It was the feast. It was living into the hope, the day when all shall eat and be unafraid. It was attending the great banquet despite all the evidence. I hope I’ll never forget it.
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Tracey
non-member comment
wow!
I am filled! Thanks for the moving update.