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Published: July 29th 2006
Capitol Building
Just two blocks shy of our first dinner. Didn´t think I´d get to see you so soon
Upon arrival in any new city certain things must be put into order:
- Locate Housing
- Settle into new room
- Use bathroom
- Learn layout of surroundings
- Decide you are hungry
- Try getting a taxi
- Find a good place to eat
- Sit down
- Order
- Eat
For me, these are some of the little things that help settle me into any new area.
As the evening started off things were great. The girls met me down at Javier´s and we made our way up Ave. de Los Presidentes to La Rampa to try to find something to eat. We looked at a few places, were escorted to one overpriced place with no actual menu, and asked for useless directions from a couple of teenagers. I spotted a place to grab an ice cream and I treated the girls (Jasmine, Jessica, & Mandy) to an ice cream. (Later I will explain the currency situation in detail but for now we will say the four cones ran me right around $.30 US) In reality we had no idea about the layout of the surroundng area or where would be a good place to eat so we hailed a taxi and the four of us made our way to Habana Vieja.
Our mode of transport was in a 70s Russian made Lada with a dolphin hanging from the rear view mirror. Our driver a twenty something Cubano with gold teeth and an ear for Latin hip-hop who spoke no english made his way though back streets, around cars, and barely around people. I am guessing we were somewhere around Central Havana when we were pulled over in the taxi. Pulled over is not the correct term, I guess you could say we were flagged over since the officer was leaning on the back of his car as we passed and he flicked his wrist out alerting our driver to pull over.
He, our new gold toothed friend, fumbled around for some papers real quick and got out of the taxi, after stopping the meter by request, and handed everything over to the officer behind us. Not sure what was going on we made a few jokes and the girls took the opportunity to photograph the dolphin. After maybe five minutes he returned only to say´"no problema." Well that´s good since we had only been in Cuba for just over two hours most of which was spent in immigration at the airport. We were dropped by the Capitol building, a replica of our own in Washington. Took the opportunity to get a few good shots in as the sun had basically set and the building was illuminated perfectly.
From here we walked maybe three blocks or so, passing a few restaurants that could´ve worked and just as many that had no hope of getting our business. Jessica had taken charge or the search, or maybe it just seemed that way since I was so use to my very tranquil pace of walking. We weaved through a few dark alleys and arrived at a corner restaurante with no signage above the door. We inqired about eating and were informed of a set menu of fried chicken, rice, fries, and salad for 6 CUC (Convertible Unit Currency= more to come later about this). Not bad since we were all hungry we took a table for four, one of the only four tables in the place and ordered our drinks. We agreed to share a large bottle of Naranja Refresco, Orange soda, Fanta, call it what you want. It saved us some money splitting it and we were all okay with that.
The order had been placed, drinks brought the table, if memory serves me correct I was the only one willing to take the risk of taking ice in my glass. A decision that never came back to haunt me. What seemed like an enternity passed as we waited for our meal, not sure if it was due to how hungry we were or the fact that they had sent out to get the chickens to kill for our meal, we just waited and conversed about how lucky we were to be completely breaking the law by visiting a third world communist country.
Dinner came, the conversation went silent as all focus was put towards consumption of the meal. The food was okay, but did the trick. I hit the head which left much to be desired for the little time I spent in there and returned with a request for hand sanitizer as there was neither soap nor running water in the Hombre´s room. Makes you question where the staff cleans their hands at. We were eventually presented with the bill and at that point the night really got started. We all reached for the our money, and when Jessica reached to the ground to the right of her chair her purse was no where to be found.
The Night Begins
We all searched under the table and tried to recall who walked pass the table or where Jessica could have left her purse at. We all knew that she had been taking some pictures inside the restaurant when we had sat down originally and that she had pulled the camera out of her purse. To the best of our recollection the only people close enough to our table was one waiter and the lady that presented us with our bill, and no one could remember seeing either of them bend over at any point. A younger couple had come in for only a couple minutes, and a few guys were having drinks in the corner, but neither group really came close enough to pick it up, or to even kick it to another part of the restaurant.
So its decided that the purse has obviously been stolen. We proceed to finish paying the bill, while discussing the contents of the purse.
The Contents:
*Camera
*ID
*US $800 Cash
*4000 Mexican Pesos (US$400 equivalent)
Last but not least
*1- Passport from the United States of America
Yes ladies and gentlemen you have read correctly. Your glasses are not smudged, you did not put your contacts into the wrong eyes again, you have just read the cold hard facts.
Jessica made her best attempt to explain the situation to a police officer that was on the corner just outside of the restaurant. After about ten minutes the corner this restaurant was located on was occupied by three females from Hawaii, one male from Florida, the restaurant staff, the sweaty manager down from his fan cooled office, three Cuban patrol guys, another three or four Cuban police officers in uniform, and one semi-bilingual plain clothes officer that began communicated by walkie-talkie to another officer in some unkown location.
Questions were shot all around some in spanish, some in english, some in a concoction of the two.
Where are you from?
Where is he from?
What did they steal?
Where was the bag?
Why did you leave your bag on the ground?
What do you want to do?
Who was by your table?
Where is he from?
What did she lose?
What happened?
These were just the ones that could be understood by the entire group, though the answers they got back were sometimes replied to with only a look of despair. Was it because they had no clue what was being said, or that they truly felt bad for situation?
This went on for some period of time, then it came time to decide about making a police report. Well, the sad truth being that no one was going to be bringing any of these belongings back just had to be accepted. However, the loss of an American passport in a communist country is another thing. A police report was also going to be needed to get a new tourist visa from the Cuban government and a new passport issued by whoever issues these things in Cuba for Americans that are not supposed to be here, or at least ones that are not supposed to be spending money here.
Two girls in the back of a police car. Myself and the other into the 50s era Chevrolet being driven by the sweaty manager, who was only that much more covered in his own saline solution from the stress of having the Cuban police filling and surrounding his restaurant. Not that it matters, but I have no idea how this car made it there. When manuevering through the streets the allignment seemed like it shot the car at a 45 degree angle off the potholes that lined every road as though this was the one path that had been the only victim of some air assult. The breaks, I think were non existant, belted out a terrible sound when ever the car was slowed. The door on the passenger side had to be opened from the outside. To be honest, this thing was a mess and a safety violation in every possible way.
We arrived as soon as we knew it seeing that we had no idea where we were. We could on keep guessing that we still had to be in Havana somewhere. The police station is a converted castle that comes with its own moat and non-functioning draw bridge. Feeling a bit of comfort from the aid that was being handed out from the Cuban police officers and the restaurant manager we walked into the headquarters only to personally have all that fly right out the window. We were greeted by an open atrium that had one desk, with one chair, with one phone, with one notebook, and not one worker in sight. We wait. Wait a bit more. Finally, a man with some age and hopefully with some sense about the situtation greets us from behind his desk. Asks a few questions of the escorting officers and opens his ledger like this is where the official report will be logged. He looked about as interested in the situation as a hyperactive ten year old would be with learning about the Mesopotamia and jotted a few facts down.
After about 10 minutes Jessica was escorted by herself into a backroom for what we thought would be questioning as we had no idea what was hidden behind the doors of this place. Some time passed, its anyones guess how much, but eventually Jasmine went back and joined her as Mandy and I made our way to some chairs to have a seat for a bit. About to fall asleep I got up walked around and decided that wandering around this place might land me in more trouble with these guys. We eventually got up and joined Jasmine and Jessica in this mystery room. The real Cuba presents itself. A room with two computers some phones, and people working. The icing on the cake though was a TV, though at first playing some BS Cuban news broadcast one of the officers got up and changed it. Who would have guessed that Fidel was allowing his officers to watch primetime American TV while on the clock, but my eyes just watched as an episode of the show NUMB3RS was playing with subtitles. At this point the jokes were flying around and a solid effort was made to relax Jessica about the situation regardless of the fact we all knew none of these belongs would be showing up with an apology letter anytime soon.
*I must admit that a bit of detail has been left out of this report for safety reasons of the author. Not really, I just wanted to save some time.
Long story short, the purse was not going to show up. Eventually the police report was finished and Jessica would have somethings showing what had happened. I finally made it back to my casa particular around 2:30 or 3:00 in the morning. As I laid down I could only hope that this was not going to be a sign of things to come. Only time would tell and for now I had no way of tellingl. For at this point in time I was truly alone in Cuba with only my thoughts to comfort me.
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Uncle Larry
non-member comment
Priorities
Ok, I didn't read the whole thing. I only read the part about placing certain things in order upon your arrival in a new city. Dude, I'm here to tell you...............PICK: "Use bathroom" first!!!! I think all the rest can wait. Just my 2cents, or pesos, or whatever currency you are dealing with at the time. Having wonderful time in Good Ole' US of A Just saw fireworks that were postponed for rain on July 4th. GOD BLESS THE USA.......BABY!! (Hope no commy bastards are looking over your shoulder as you read this!!) (Semper FI) (Ok, I don't REALLY know what that means., but I know it IMPLIES that we can kick some ass if we need to.) Good luck to you in your travailles! (That's french for work, but I thought it worked in this case.) Don't forget to visit "le facteur", that's french for "the mailman". (Has much better effect when being vocalized as opposed to being read, but you notice I left it in anyway.) Viva La Robert!! Yea, ok they let me have a few beers tonight........and there's always tomorrow.