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Published: April 8th 2011
From Las Ninas Have you ever wondered about a Cuban baptism? Would you imagine that it would include collecting firewood, pasture sledding on palm leaves and swimming in a lake afterwards?
I bet ya’ll think that is crazy, but for us - normal. Well, usually we don’t pasture sled but sometimes we swim and the firewood was collected for a bonfire we made to cook a stew to eat after the baptism.
Before the Baptism the kids, grownups and teenagers separated into groups for a retreat for Lent. The kids walked around the lake, skipped rocks and played. The teenagers talked under a tree and the grown-ups did a bible study. After some songs, some of the teenagers climbed up the palm trees and got some of the dead branches and cut them with machetes.
We all walked over to a little hill that lead from the lake down to a cow field. We would sit on the back of the palm leaves and with a push….. we would slide down the hill. We would have to bale before we ran into the fence at the bottom. It was hard to not land in poop.
Afterwards,
Homemade coconut pie
You have to taste it to understand.we gathered everyone up, sang a few songs and watched the baptism. The baptism was very beautiful. People were smiling, crying and laughing at the end. Then we all went over and ate stew - I didn’t because it had big chucks of pork in it - oh well. No lunch today…..
We then loaded up into the back of a truck/dump truck type bus and rode back to the church. There I did find some homemade yogurt. Lunch today after all…and very delicious!
Leigh
Ps - I miss you all and love you, having a great time here, see you in 3 months.
Fun in Havana Is it possible to have two parts of the same city that are surprisingly different yet strangely similar? I don’t know what you are thinking, but as far as I know the answer is yes. There is most likely more than one city like this, but an example is Havana, Cuba.
There are two parts of the city, Old Havana, and Havana. Old Havana is one of the tourist destinations. Havana is where most of the Cubans live. Most of the time when you hear people talking
about Havana they mean Old Havana. Old Havana is where all of the hotels are, the kind of hotels that have live turtles in their fountains. For some reason, the turtles don’t leave. Actually, you should ask the staff about that one. You will find bars, nice restaurants and Ernest Hemingway’s favorite bar La Bodeguita Del Medio.
Those are just a few of the tourist attractions. There are many more, like the Caribbean water. I would say the biggest attraction is not what is in the city but the city itself. It feels like you just stepped back in time when you are walking around. With the cobblestone roads, the tall skinny houses, the big squares waiting around every corner, parks to walk lazily through. It feels like some place in Europe in the early 1900s. Beautiful!
Of course, there are some things that bring you back to the 21st century, like the big clothing store from London with sliding glass doors or the “house” of chocolate with chocolate bunnies. The big mosaic of sand, for instance, with all the important people in Cuban history standing in it. Or the huge cruise ship docked in the bay. I
The Bici Taxi
One way Cubans get around bet you wouldn’t have seen that in 1911.
There is not only a European influence on Havana there is most definitely a North American influence as well. For example, the cars that you see in movies about the 50s or in pictures of your grandparent’s first car, you see on the streets everywhere. Then there’s the Justin Bieber music playing in a house or restaurant, that’s when we cover our ears and run.
I think you get the picture, old European looking town with modern perks here and there, horse drawn carriages, old cars, old looking bars. Pretty much sums it up.
Now for the other part of Havana. Some things stay the same, like the old cars and buildings. It’s a little more modern. Less shopping centers, less tourists, more Cuban reality.
If you were to ask me my favorite of the two, I would not be able to tell you, because they are surprisingly different yet strangely similar.
Joy
From Mark It’s not surprising that this year is having a significant impact on our lives, but I had no idea. The other day, Leigh announced that she wanted to go to
seminary…to THIS seminary. This part did not surprise me. She rules the campus. Daily, she makes her rounds to the different student houses where she eats, plays and converses with whoever is available. Most of the time, we have no idea where she is. Come dinner time, one of us usually has to go on a Leigh hunt. There is something about this place and the people that make her feel right at home, literally.
Naturally, I asked her why she wanted to go seminary. She responded, “Well, I could learn about God and stuff and then one day… I want to be the Pope.” You’ve got to love a 9 year old who shoots for the moon. Without sounding too discouraging, I tried to explain a few barriers – like being Baptist and a woman, but it did not seem to faze her. Personally, I think she would look great in one of those big hats and she is one hell of an ambassador. I think she would be fantastic.
Fittingly, Joy’s changes have been more subtle. Paco is convinced that she is quietly preparing herself to write the next (or maybe the first) great American novel,
much of which will be set in Cuba. It’s been particularly fun to watch her Spanish start to take off. She is using it more and more and has, of course, started to correct my errors. I knew this day would come. She is particularly helpful with some of the songs I am using in worship services here, songs translated from English. She has this amazing memory and I can always turn to her when I get lost. Joy has also developed a nice friendship with Ingrid, the daughter of Wanda and Orestes, the pastor of our church here in Matanzas. Last night she had even had a full fledge Cuban sleepover, minus the rum and cigars (I think?).
I continue to be in awe of Kiran. I love just watching her navigate this Cuban life with amazing grace and a free spirit. It’s clear that this break in the OB-GYN schedule has been a good thing for her, on lots of levels. But don’t get the idea that she is sitting around eating fresh pineapple and watching Brazilian “novelas” (soap operas). The basic day to day activities require a good bit more time and energy here. Kiran is
doing the large bulk of the tasks involving food, laundry and education of the youngins. Add to that, her role assisting the many church groups coming through and petitions for translating help and you can see that she stays quite busy. But she is finding time for her new passion – crocheting. She is an active and important member of the women’s crocheting group at the seminary and is making many beautiful things. It’s yet to be determined whether or not medicine is going to get in the way of her new career. We shall see.
As for me, I live less and less with the sense of being overwhelmed and more and more just grateful for what I get to be a part of. Since I’m not teaching at the seminary this trimester, we are able to say “yes” to more preaching invitations. It’s a great way to experience the different pueblos and faith communities in Cuba. For example, last weekend we borrowed Paco’s car and drove to Carlos Rojas. It’s a small community about 45 minutes from the city of Matanzas. They were celebrating the 64th anniversary of the church on a Friday and baptized two new
members at a nearby reservoir on Saturday. This congregation has a sister church relationship with Park Road Baptist in Charlotte so it was fun to build on the North Carolina and Alliance connections. The whole thing was beautiful.
Then, this morning, we took part in the worship at the Episcopal Church in Limonar, another small community not too far from Carlos Rojas. I learned from my Spanish teacher that Limonar, and many other small towns around it, were initially places where escaped and liberated slaves settled. For this reason, there is still a large African-Cuban population and influence. This was clear in Limonar. The church was filled with about 20 women (only women) and all were African Cuban. Though it was not obvious to me, the Christian practice there is very much influenced by the old African beliefs and traditions. Another amazing thing about this community is that the sanctuary was destroyed by a hurricane almost 20 years ago. The only part that remained is the sacristy. This is where the church now meets for all of its activities and worship. It was a tight fit but that seemed to only add to the sweet spirit of it all.
On Tuesday, I head back to Santiago de Cuba (opposite end of the island) for another round of training. The heat has arrived in Cuba. The Cubans in Matanzas will often say, “but it’s nothing like the heat down east” (in Spanish though). I’ll let you know how it goes. So, the many months of you envying our Caribbean weather are now over. I’m already longing for a taste of the Appalachian air. And it won’t be long…
Much love to you all!
Mark
A walk down the street Some joke that the national sport of Cuba is the Lucha. Luchar means to struggle, and a common greeting among friends: “Hey, como estas?” …response “aqui luchando” How are you? …response: “Here struggling”.
Our life here in the seminary is buffered and quite cush. We have 10 meals a week provided, we have a garden directly outside our front door, we have safe water to drink without boiling or buying it, we have hot water in our shower, there are guards that monitor who comes in and out of the seminary, there are plumbers, electricians and secretaries to help us when needed and in addition
to the beautiful seminary landscape there is a magnificent view of the city, the ocean and the vast Cuban sky to lift our spirits when needed. Here we live.
Now, let me take you on a walk to the plaza, outside of the gates of the seminary. The plaza is where I buy some of our food, the rice and beans we eat for our meals not provided for us, and the veggies and fruit that are not grown here. It’s the local farmer’s market. It is about a 20-minute walk. Ready?
We walk out the seminary gates and pass Leigh’s school on the right. We greet the street sweeper who looks to be about 75 years old. Wooden boards that make the windows of the elementary school are crooked and/or broken, the paint spotty, tall weeds have taken over the front lawn. Laughter and children’s voices are heard coming from this school. One of them is Leigh’s.
The next block we find a large sometimes burning trash heap on the corner across from the small corner store. One of the workers is quick to shout out a greeting and let me know if he has eggs.
Sharing Memories
First Baptist Matanzas and Pullen Memorial sharing memories 2 doors down is a friend who is having work done on her house, we stop and chat. Her Mother whom had lived with her all of her life has recently died. They are still overwhelmed with grief and she is now trying to adjust to all of the work of 2 kids, a house and luchando without her.
At the corner we step over the stream of water that runs down the cross street. A similar stream of water is at each of the next 8 blocks. We must step or jump over this stream to move along. The smell of this water makes it clear to step over it.
The next block we see Joy’s Spanish teacher standing in the doorway, her non-ambulatory 90 year old mother which is her full time job now, is in the chair behind her. Next door to her is another small store window - another egg supplier to us as well as lollipops and homemade super sweet peanut butter bars. When we buy things the lady of the house says “Adiocita, mi vida” = “bye-bye, darlin’” would be the Southern US translation. Kids are playing in the street around
us. 2 boys are playing catch with an empty medicine bottle.
Next to the lollipop house is my Cuban grandmother’s house and chief crochet instructor. Her door is almost always open. As we are just passing by on our way to the market, we just stop by for a kiss and a greeting. Other days we would sit and chat.
Across the street from her are 2 of the other founding member of the “Weavers of Hope” crocheting group. These women have learned the art of crocheting in the last 10 or so years. They are a community of support for each other’s emotional, spiritual and financial needs. Many of them are widowed and their small retirement pension ($10-12/month) doesn’t even pay their light and phone bills. These women share what they have with each other. They accompany each other to their doctor’s visits, they sit and chat as they crochet and crochet and crochet. The things they make, they sell to visitors of the seminary.
They have welcomed me under their wing, loaned me the right kind of needle, given me thread and hours of patient lessons. They have celebrated with the awe of parents
seeing a child take her first steps as I learned to make first a cross, then a butterfly, then a bag, then a scarf, and then……They have told me stories of their lives, their friends and family they lost before, during and after the revolution, the family they have in Miami that they miss dearly or have lost touch with. They talk, I listen, we make things.
On to the market. We pass a long line at a corner store which sells subsidized goods - yucca, pineapple, potatoes, sometimes rice, onions, other things I often can’t see past the long line. The next block has a store type restaurant that sells different kinds of sandwiches, and smoothie type drinks. They have a menu board at the store front. Some days it features condoms and cigars at the bottom of the menu.
The next block is the ice man, who grinds ice and serves a colored beverage over the ice right across from the local high school. The kids mill about on the street in front of the school, talking, holding hands, sharing a cigarette or drinking ice slushies.
In the next few blocks we now are down
into the heart of Matanzas, we pass the homeopathic pharmacy/apothecary, the corner where fresh flowers are sold, the local pizza joint, many small government run stores all selling about the same selection of goods. We have passed without mentioning a number of people sitting on steps in front of their homes with a few small things in their hands- a package of super glue, a screw driver, 2 razors, some cloth pens, a pair of shoes. These people sit all day and hope for a sale. We pass through town and cross a large and beautiful bridge, one of Matanzas’s many sparkling rivers below. We take the steps down to the river level dodging the trash and excrement on the steps and cross a large open area that leads us to the Plaza.
We made it. For about $4 we can buy rice and beans and some fruit and veggies for the week. We bring our own bags, all the prices are clearly marked and the workers are generous and fair to us. Dogs mill about, usually with a fresh bone in their mouth gifted by the meat venders. Animal skulls are common to see about the market, the
Morning Run
A view from Kiran and Mark's morning run smells are intense and now add 90 degree plus heat and you can feel the lucha can’t you?
The weavers that share the corner love to joke about how they enjoy watching Mark walk down the street. He makes his way down the street as he does his way through life. Greeting, smiling, laughing and connecting.
Back at the seminary, I grow in amazement of the faith community that resides here. The prayer services held regularly for the pain and struggles of the world around us; Japan, the Middle East, Africa. The way in which they care for each other as death, birth and all that lies between happens in each of their lives.
With 3 months left in our time here, I pray each day for the strength to live each day to its fullest, with patience, love and compassion. I give thanks for the many people who have allowed this time to be possible. The people who have worked in my place while I have been away, the family and friends that have taken care of details in our life that we could not attend to, the faith community that has kept our spirit nourished
Pullen Group
Hosting a group from Pullen Memorial Baptist Church through prayer, cards, emails and visits.
I give thanks also for the life and hard work of Jess, Margaret, Stephanie and Jamie - 4 resident doctors in Asheville that I know and love. This spring marks the end of their formal education and the beginning of hopefully many years of lucha and joy in the field of medicine. Happy Graduation!
Kiran
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Sue Williams
non-member comment
With awe and expectation
Your reports are all awesome, and I am filled with expectation of how this year's experiences will influence the years to come. Thanks from a deep place in my heart for writing so vividly and honestly. This entry may be the best one to let us know just how completely you have entered into the life around Matanzas. Leigh, you will be a marvelous seminarian and Pope; Joy will be a marvelous playwright and actress; Kiran and Mark will continue to be the marvelous contributors they've always been at whatever tasks needs doing. I'm filled with gratitude for each of you.