Love, hate, telephones

Last weekend we went up to Hamburg to see our friends Tom, Sonja, and their daughter Fiona. You might remember them from previous blog posts.

Fiona is 19 months old now and just starting to talk. She has her own cell phone to play with. It doesn't work any more, but she can dial it and have one-sided, unintelligible conversations with Grandma. I am not sure whether she's pretending to call her American Grandma or her German Oma, since it's not always clear whether she's speaking in English or in German, or just in baby talk.

Fiona's chatter made me think about my own love/hate relationship with the phone since we moved to Germany. When we first moved here, I became very afraid of the telephone. Whenever possible, I would avoid making calls. If it rang, I froze. Talking on the phone in a foreign language is way way harder than talking face-to-face. There is nothing to point at, no fingers to count on, nowhere to draw a picture, no way to give my helpless foreigner's smile and shrug that might keep the German-speaker from hating me. Getting a friend to call for me is a little demeaning, but I had to do it in the beginning. A few times I called Deutsche Bank myself, only to be told that no one was able to talk to me in English. At one of the biggest banks in the world. Really. But I have no right to be angry; I am living in Deutschland and it's their bank.

I wasn't afraid of the phone all the time. That's where the love part of the love-hate relationship comes in. One of the best things we did in those crazy few months of moving our lives across the ocean was to get a land line for the first time in years, and to sign up for a cheap international calling plan. Now we can pick up the phone and call home. It's a real one with buttons, not Skype or video chat. Second only to the internet, that phone plan has allowed us stay in touch with friends and family in the U.S.

A lot of those family and friends have Face Time and Whatsapp and all those things that people with smart phones have. Brian and I have dumb phones. When we moved here we got really cheap prepaid cell phones. We are not gadget people, we are certainly afraid of having to decipher a phone contract in German, and we didn't need it that much - there were only a handful of people who might call. Now, three and a half years later, there are two handfuls of people who might call. We still have the dumb phones.

About a year ago I started to order pizza over the phone. I realized this week - after I had called the hair salon, the doctor's office, the Deutsche Bahn, the airline and also the pizza place - that I wasn't afraid any more.

After a couple years of pretending, just like Fiona with her toy phone, I could communicate without holding up any fingers or smiling. And just like Fiona, I can call my Grandma on the phone. We always talk in English.

My first protest

On Monday I took part in my very first protest. I realize I am a bit of a late bloomer. I should have done this already, in college at least. I have never been political in the activist sense of the word - so this was my chance.

When I was in college, some of my fellow students set up a peace camp on the quad. They were protesting U.S. bombings of Iraq in 1999 (yes, that's how old I am). The peace campers posted their signs and pitched their tents that spring. It started as a curiosity, became a political statement, and eventually the tents in front of Old Main just became a fixture of the campus. The peace campers were out there, smelly and full of conviction, for 4 or 5 weeks. I didn't join them. Maybe I was lacking in conviction and I definitely did not own a tent. Mostly, I wasn't sure what they were going to accomplish, how they could influence world events by sleeping outdoors at a liberal arts college in the Upper Midwest.

Getting back to 2015... you may remember my post about Pegida. It's a German anti-Islam movement based in Dresden. They are the "Nazis in pinstripes," who are against the Islamization of the West. Now we have our very own chapter of Pegida in Hannover, called Hagida.

If there's anything I am "for" politically, it's immigration. I think immigration is a strength, not a weakness. I used to work for and with immigrants. And now I am an immigrant too. So when my (blond-haired, blue-eyed, German) friend Ulla invited me to come to the counter-demonstration against Hagida, I said yes. It was the anti-anti-Islamization march. Officially they called it the anti-racism march.

There were three marches that evening. First, there was the Hagida march, with 200 participants. There was a counter-protest of the Socialist Worker Youth party, with about 300 people. Then there was our demonstration, with 19,000 people. I guess that means we won.  Our demonstration, called 'Hannover says: lights out for racists', was backed by the city. Former chancellor Gerhard Schroeder spoke, as did the mayor and other important people. The lights at the opera house and the office buildings surrounding it were all turned off. Maybe they were trying to confuse the Hagida people into marching somewhere else.

I read that the Hagida marchers and the socialists got into some scuffles a few people were arrested. I didn't see anything like that. Our protest was very peaceful. It was so peaceful, in fact, that I forgot I was protesting and just felt like I was in a slow-moving line to get on an airplane or leave a sporting event. My 18,999 fellow protesters weren't chanting or throwing Molotov cocktails. Someone up ahead was beating a drum but otherwise it was very mellow.

A dark opera house

This sign says "with one another"

German demonstrations, as you might imagine, are very well organized. All groups involved have to apply for a permit first, so that streets can be closed and police can be available. Hagida now wants to demonstrate in Hannover, every Monday starting on the 26th of January. I imagine them all marking their calendars, or setting up a recurring appointment on their smart phones that says "Monday, 5pm, go protest against those low-down dirty Muslims taking over your country."

So back to the question I first raised about the peace camp: did our protest accomplish anything? Unlike the young socialists, we did not physically stop any Hagida people from marching. We may have created some peer pressure to show them that they are very much outnumbered, that the city of Hannover does not agree with their views. We made the international news, showing that Hannover is a city that will not tolerate intolerance. But did we change anyone's mind? Probably not - that takes a lot more work than just getting a bunch of Germans to walk together. It takes people getting to know those who are different from them, and figuring out that they are not really so different after all.
At least that's my opinion. But I do lack political conviction, and a permit, and a tent.

"Hannover remains open to the world and tolerant. There is no place here for Nazis and Fascists."

The Revolution continues

Throughout Cuba, the only type of advertising you'll see is propaganda.

This Revolution is the daughter of culture and ideas

Your example lives, your ideas endure

Our duty: to produce for the people!

It was common to see signs recognizing this year as the 56th year of the Revolution. I didn't realize Cuba is still fighting the Revolution. So the question is, are they winning?

As Americans we learn that Communism, if not evil, is at least backward and ineffective and unjust. After 12 days in Cuba, I'm not sure that's entirely true.

"With all and for the good of all"

We found that Cuba is a very safe country with no homeless people. It offers universal, quality health care and an educational system that sends good students go to university for free. Workers have guaranteed days off and job security, even if they get paid next to nothing. Cuba's sustainable agriculture is an example for the world.

We also found hard-working people with very little wealth, people who can't afford to travel within their own country, and a lot who are trying to get out. Homes are crowded. Because of the dual currency system, those with low-level jobs in the tourism industry can earn more than doctors and engineers. There is no right to freedom of speech and access to information is censored. Technology is 20 years behind that of the rest of the world.

Racial equality in Cuba appears to be more advanced than in the U.S. The black market lives on, despite the strength of the state. Private businesses - only legalised in the last 8 years - pop up everywhere.  Cubans are proud of Cuba, even though some of them would rather live somewhere else. People line up by the butcher shop on the day the ham comes in - it might not be there tomorrow.

As the sign says, only those who fight and resist will win. Cuba is certainly resisting capitalism and fighting the political forces that rule much of the world. Whether it's winning or not... I still can't tell.

"Only those who fight and resist will win"

Hotel Nacional

On our last night in Cuba, we stayed at Havana's Hotel Nacional.
I have never been in a hotel so grand.

It opened in 1930, overlooking the Malecon in Havana's ritziest neighborhood. The Nacional has hosted world leaders, movie stars, athletes,singers and writers. It has played a part in the coup of 1933 and the revolution in 1958. American gangsters Meyer Lanksy and Lucky Luciano used to run the casino and run their operations out of the hotel. It's built like a small city within the city - it has a post office, a few shops, several bars and restaurants and offices.

There could still be mafia at the Hotel Nacional, but mostly the guests looked like rich foreigners. Like all hotels in Cuba, it's run by the state. Tourism is a necessary evil in Cuba; the government charges high prices in CUCs for hotels but pays the employees in pesos. The government reaps the profits, which are (theoretically) redistributed to the people through public services and subsidies. So the communism survives in part by advocating the same kinds of inequalities the Revolution tried to eliminate.

We could only afford this kind of inequality for one night.

Since the Hotel Nacional staff are all state employees, the front desk staff are grumpy, the waiters disappear when you need them and the food is not very good. Imagine a 5 star hotel run by the people who work at the DMV.
I would guess that the mafia got better service than we did.

Not Trinidad

When we got in the taxi to leave Cienfuegos on New Year's Day, the driver asked if we had been to Trinidad. Every traveler we talked during our trip to was either coming from or going to Trinidad. It's supposed to be a beautiful, historical, colonial town. That's why I didn't want to go.

"I think there are more tourists in Trinidad than people who live there," the driver explained, as we leaned against the car, waiting for the 3rd passenger who would travel to Havana with us.

Surama, my Cuban friend, said in the course of one conversation,
"Trinidad is great, you should absolutely go," and
"you should try to see the authentic Cuba while you are there. There's nothing authentic about Trinidad."
I imagine it as a museum of a town, a Cuban colonial Williamsburg, or the tropical version of Bruges, Belgium.

There are places where you travel in order to see stuff: castles, museums, the Statue of Liberty, the Taj Mahal, the Corn Palace, the world's largest ball of twine, etc. Cuba, at least for Brian and me, is not one of those places. We came to Cuba to see how this place has shrugged off globalization, to see what it's like to live without advertising. We wanted to feel the sun and hear the music, to visit the place with (arguably) the purest form of Communism that still exists. Now the U.S., with some help from our friends Pope Francis and the Canadians, has agreed to crack open the door of the embargo. We look like geniuses because, as you'll recall, we beat Burger King.

Cienfuegos

No one is sure just what will change in Cuba, but everyone is sure that some changes are coming. Fred the farmer is concerned that agribusiness will bring in chemical fertilizers and bio-engineering. Rico the classic car driver can't wait for strong American cars to come back to Havana's streets (we didn't tell him they don't make cars quite like they did in the 50s). José Miguel thinks that when banking opens up, expat Cubans will buy up all the land. Nene the cigar salesman has wasted no time in bringing his Miami family down to visit.

And will Nene take his family to Trinidad? With more visitors in Cuba's future, will Trinidad become the next Wisconsin Dells? What we did instead of visit Trinidad was stay for 3 full days in Cienfuegos. There was plenty of time to put the guidebook away and sit on the rooftop, listening to the clip clop of horse carts and the beats of music playing down the street, the call of the bread man and the barking of street dogs. 

There weren't many famous sights in Cienfuegos to check off of a list. But that was ok with us.

This is Brian's iconic Cuba photo

New Year in Cuba

New Year's in Cuba is a big deal, and I was excited to ring in 2015 in a warm climate. The owners of our casa particular, Lourdes and Jose Miguel, invited us to come to a dinner at their daughter's house. She also rents out rooms in her home along the water - 6 rooms, in fact, so it was like a small hotel. There was big buffet dinner on the patio, with a mix of tourists and family taking part.

Cuban new year has the familiar ingredients of dancing, fancy food, drinking and kisses at midnight. Traditionally, Cubans roast a pig for the feast. We saw one being butchered out on the sidewalk in Cienfuegos. The other big tradition is to build a scarecrow out of old clothes and newspaper. This is the old man of the year that has passed, with a big 2014 written on his chest. What happens to him at midnight? They light him on fire, of course.

I also learned from Surama and her brother that people who want to travel walk out of the house with a suitcase on New Year's Eve. They take it around the block, or to the nearest bar. This is the way to welcome a new year that will take you places.

Getting around in Cuba

There are many ways to get around in Cuba:

Taxis: These include cars, horse carts, bike taxis and coco taxis.
No matter what sort of cab you are taking it's important to bargain with the driver and agree on a price before you get in. Most don't have meters.

Classic cars: They are everywhere. I knew I would see some in Cuba; I just didn't know there would be so many. A lot of the classic American cars are brightly painted and lovingly restored. There must be some good mechanics in Cuba, and these cars could possibly run forever with their engines chugging away under layers of chrome.

Ladas and Trabants: These are Soviet cars. They are small and boxy and you can take a tour in one if you go to East Berlin. When we took that agrotour in Viñales, our guide (Fred) told us that the Cuban government sold these cars very cheaply to people who had done important work for the government. Until Raul took over in 2008, the only cars that citizens could legally sell to each other were the old American cars.

La guagua: This is the Cuban word for bus. It's a fun word to say (wah wah). People pack the buses and the long-distance buses and tourism buses too. Most of the guaguas are Chinese made.

There are other cars too: Mercedes from the 70s and 80s, and newer Korean cars like Kias and Hyundais.
And plenty of people were riding bikes.

There are a lot of ways to get around in Cuba. Some of them, like the old cars, have been working for decades. Others, like the horses and carts, have been working for centuries.