Hi, I'm Barb Wood ... I'm a Curious Artist
Barb Wood calls herself a "curious artist." no kidding. beware of anyone who calls him or herself a "curious artist." it's like going around saying, "Hi, I'm a curious genius." if you are, i'll notice, but chances are you aren't.
(can you imagine Georgia O'Keeffe going around calling herself a "curious artist?")
anyway...
so this Barb Wood, Curious Artist, goes to Cuba and writes about it for Canada's The Gazette.
but before she can tell us about Cuba, she has to, you know, tell us she's an artist:
so off we went, my patient husband, Don, my well-travelled son Roger and I, the curious artist who can't take the sun ...
alright ... so what did her artist sensibilities reveal to her about Cuba?
well, first, she realizes it's hard for a tourist to buy stuff:
Do not assume you can just pick up things in Cuba. Often you can't, or they are very hard to get, or outdated.
so far so good. so does the Curious Artist stop to wonder why things are very hard to get or outdated in Cuba? nope ... on to the next thing.
We enjoyed using the lovely pool, chatting up other guests and our first walk along the perfect beach. The white sand is like fine powder, the currents are friendly, and there were life guards, along with security people.
"along with security people." does the Curious Artist wonder what the security people's job is, exactly?
well, to keep Cubans out of the resorts, of course, lest they pester the tourists with local-made items for sale or propositions of marriage (one of the few safe ways out of Cubaland). on we go to the next revelation:
We had been told that the only TV would be Castro's nightly speech but were amused to receive CNN in several languages.
no, Barb. tourists get CNN. Cubans get their satellite dishes confiscated so they HAVE to watch Fidel (no choice, comrade).
then, i get to this line:
Varadero is fun, but not Cuba, it is restful, predictable, quiet and mostly tourists. Havana is Cuba.
and I'm thinking, alright! Barb the Curious Artist has got it figured out! maybe she IS curious after all. so what does she do next? where does she go? does she head out to talk to the people waiting for visas outside the US Interest Section? alas ...
We immediately booked into the famous floor show at the Caberet Parisienne. About $50 a head and one of the best memories. We were all jammed into a small colourful club. Our fellow travellers were from Israel, Chile, Angola, Sicily. The floor show was truly spectacular -- colourful costumes, incredible contortions by dancers. Beautiful multi-ethnic faces. Voices. History. Colour.
no security guards needed there, Barb ... the $50 cover charge takes care of keeping the locals out, who earn on average less than $5.00 per month (five bucks. per month).
anyway, after doing the usual tourist stuff, Barb the Curious Artist concludes:
We backtracked to the wonderful Monserate Bar, with the best music yet. In my next life, I will be Latino.
alas, Barb, not of Cuban extraction, since you clearly have no clue, despite your curious artist nature, of what the life of a real Cuban is like.
(can you imagine Georgia O'Keeffe going around calling herself a "curious artist?")
anyway...
so this Barb Wood, Curious Artist, goes to Cuba and writes about it for Canada's The Gazette.
but before she can tell us about Cuba, she has to, you know, tell us she's an artist:
so off we went, my patient husband, Don, my well-travelled son Roger and I, the curious artist who can't take the sun ...
alright ... so what did her artist sensibilities reveal to her about Cuba?
well, first, she realizes it's hard for a tourist to buy stuff:
Do not assume you can just pick up things in Cuba. Often you can't, or they are very hard to get, or outdated.
so far so good. so does the Curious Artist stop to wonder why things are very hard to get or outdated in Cuba? nope ... on to the next thing.
We enjoyed using the lovely pool, chatting up other guests and our first walk along the perfect beach. The white sand is like fine powder, the currents are friendly, and there were life guards, along with security people.
"along with security people." does the Curious Artist wonder what the security people's job is, exactly?
well, to keep Cubans out of the resorts, of course, lest they pester the tourists with local-made items for sale or propositions of marriage (one of the few safe ways out of Cubaland). on we go to the next revelation:
We had been told that the only TV would be Castro's nightly speech but were amused to receive CNN in several languages.
no, Barb. tourists get CNN. Cubans get their satellite dishes confiscated so they HAVE to watch Fidel (no choice, comrade).
then, i get to this line:
Varadero is fun, but not Cuba, it is restful, predictable, quiet and mostly tourists. Havana is Cuba.
and I'm thinking, alright! Barb the Curious Artist has got it figured out! maybe she IS curious after all. so what does she do next? where does she go? does she head out to talk to the people waiting for visas outside the US Interest Section? alas ...
We immediately booked into the famous floor show at the Caberet Parisienne. About $50 a head and one of the best memories. We were all jammed into a small colourful club. Our fellow travellers were from Israel, Chile, Angola, Sicily. The floor show was truly spectacular -- colourful costumes, incredible contortions by dancers. Beautiful multi-ethnic faces. Voices. History. Colour.
no security guards needed there, Barb ... the $50 cover charge takes care of keeping the locals out, who earn on average less than $5.00 per month (five bucks. per month).
anyway, after doing the usual tourist stuff, Barb the Curious Artist concludes:
We backtracked to the wonderful Monserate Bar, with the best music yet. In my next life, I will be Latino.
alas, Barb, not of Cuban extraction, since you clearly have no clue, despite your curious artist nature, of what the life of a real Cuban is like.
posted by Yimboro | 6:57 PM
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