In Search of Cuba - A Filmmaker's Return

Food & Movies

2006-04-21T19:22:00.000-07:00

In our desire to learn more about Havana, we discovered that this city is picturesque from all over the island, from Morro Castle to Old Havana, to even the newer neighborhoods uptown. But since we came for the film festival we found ourselves crisscrossing the city, going from one movie theatre to the next, where lines of movier goers snaked down the block and around the corner.

And since our quest for movies inevitably led to the search for food, the two seem to be connected on this trip. What saved us from having to eat the worst pizza on the earth was Nicole's talent for referring to our guide book and map. Without Lonely Planet's advice we would have been worse off. When in doubt get the planet!! It's worth the money.

In regards to food, what we quickly learned is that in Cuba, it's all about the meat. And if fact, the more meat you eat the better off you are. There are markets everywhere with fresh meat sitting on tables. I'm talking slabs of meat, skinned legs of animals, juicy innards, dead chicken and cow parts sprawled around, and lots of pork everywhere, all raw animal flesh hanging from hooks, basking in the sun, a play ground for flies and shoppers.

It reminded me of La Marqueta, a huge meat market in Harlem, where I used to frequent with my relatives. Even the smell of raw meat was the same, and still made me quesy. I took these pics because I didn't believe my Mother would believe my stories of meat in the Cuban sun. While I may not appreciate it, the Cubans are rumored to be great at preparing the meat, and many people adore the dishes that result

The obvious thing is that vegetarians clearly have it hard here. Most Cubans are meat eaters, but there is a growing population of Cuban veg-heads struggling in this meat-oriented society. There is a chain of vegetarian restaurants that is at least a step in the right direction for people like me, though too pricey.

Because of this, our main dishes tended to be rice and black beans with salad. Nicole was clearly at a disadvantage, and thus limited in what she could consume. Rice. Black beans (when available which isn't always) and salad. And then there are eggs, which aren't vegetarian but at least a protein option. Since I have more leeway, because I eat seafood on ocassion, I did have decent shrimp, fish, and lobster dishes, especially at one particular cafe we grew to adore for its food and the warmth from the people running the joint.

Once while we ate there we also got a chance to sit next to a table of famous Cuban hip hop artists. The Waitress, a fabulous AfroCuban sister, was clearly star struck and fawned over them. From their fly outfits to the number of people who walked up happily greeting them, Nicole and I decided to sneak a few photos as proof that we hung out in hip places and rubbed elbows with at least the Cuban famous. If anyone recognizes these raperos (rappers), drop me a line so that I may properly brag.

What we also learned is that Cubans love their sweets and their booze. Pastries. Cakes. Rum. Beer. We saw lines of people waiting to get their allotment of cakes. And when I mean cakes, I mean fancy cakes, like wedding cakes. We'd see people, kids, old ladies, men with canes walking the street, avoiding pot holes and hungry dogs, deftly holding these fancy cakes with icing, drooling for their sugar fix.

We also saw loads of people buying their booze by the bottles. Havana Club, which is Cuban Ron (rum), and cuban beer like Cristal. Havan Club is the country's premiere choice of drinks. The island grows its own sugar cane and refines its own rum. Everyone drinks it. Many even use it in religious Santera Yoruban ceremonies. Though I am not that much of a drinker, I must admit that Havana Club is superior, and by far better than stinky Barcardi. This is just my preference. I learned that though Barcadi is more popular internationally, and is supposed to be representative of Cuban rum, it's not. Most Cubans understand that Barcardi and Havana Club are worlds apart, even universes apart. Barcardi is loaded withtons of inpurities that adversely affects its taste, and gives you the worst hangovers. Havana Club is purer, tastier, richer. The story is that the Barcardi people have tried stealing the Havana Club's recipe, which is guarded like Fort Knox. When you taste the Cuban ron you understand why Barcardi does not even compare. When in Cuba, do a taste test and you'll see for yourself.

The Blog Returns

2006-04-20T17:52:00.000-07:00

Okay, folks, so I have returned after being away from this blog for some time. My apologies. Since my last entry I have managed to complete my feature screenplay, an urban hip hop drama. Presently, I am developing it and am seeking financing. Keep your fingers crossed for me. Hopefully, you will all be seeing it in a theatre near you. Until then, I'd like to continue filling you all in on the trip to Cuba. Even in hindsight, it was great. Not just the images we captured, but the people we met, and the experiences we cherish.

What was amazing was how much the Cubans adore movies, and will stand around for hours watching crews work on the streets of Havana. Their fasciantion with movies is like everyone else's around the world.

While Nicole and I gawked like everyone else, I overheard Cubans pointing out famous actors captured somewhere in these pics. If you recognize anyone gimme a holla and let me know, because I sure didn't recognize anyone. Cultural media icons certainly don't translate if Cuban movies can not be screened in the United States. Yet another reason to end the embargo. A star is a star is a star, right?

The other two things I realized while standing around watching, are that production crews do the same technical things when it comes to shooting. It doesn't matter what kind of camera is employed. When there's too much sun and glare, you still need a scrim to screen out the sun. The other thing I noticed is that people of African decent are still under-represented behind the camera. Here in the U.S. and there in Cuba it is a rare thing to see an African woman like myself directing, even though we're out there trying to break through the glass ceiling. In Cuba, Gloria Rolando is an amazing AfroCubana director who has created stunning work, yet she still struggles to direct. I read an amazing interview with her in which she says how essential it is for society to ensure that people of color and women create their movies because we challenge the status quo; yet often we are not given the opportunities and must scrape together our own chump change to make what we envision. I can totally relate. Still, we perservere because we love filmmaking and have many stories to tell. My one wish is that audiences grow conscious of needing to support people of color filmmakers. It's not enough to see movies with people of color actors. Change must come behind the camera.

Las Krudas Rulez!

2006-04-20T17:33:00.000-07:00

Though it's been sometime since my last entry regarding the trip, and my memory might not be as fresh as it was after the trip, I muyst admit that I am still enamoured with Las Krudas. Las Krudas is a Cuban Hip Hop group that used to consist of three women, two AfroCuban woman and sisters, Wanda and Odaymara Cuesta, and Olivia Prendes. They are feminist, lesbian hip hoppers breaking it down, keepin' it real. Las Krudas is now just Odaymara and Olivia, and they're still holding it down. Their music is not only tight, and engaging, but the lyrics are though-provoking and critical. It was a pleasure spending time with these sisters, sharing food as vegi-hedz in cuba, drinking club ron, the world's quintessential rum, and talking about nights away.

2/07 This is a major update!!! Las Krudas, all three members are back together, now living in the U.S. Here's a shout out to my girlz!

check 'em out:

http://www.myspace.com/krudas

Happy 06!

2006-01-04T09:44:00.000-08:00

I've taken a bit of a hiatus on the blog but for those still interested there are lots more pics, stories, and reflections to come in the near future. Cheers.

Stay tuned.....

LG

Unexpected Connections

2005-12-21T18:11:00.000-08:00

Moving to Vedado gave us a different perspective on Havana. Before the Revolution this was THE neighborhood, the place where rich Cubans, especially foreigners and the Italian Mafia lived the good life.

You can see it in the amazing mansions, though many are now a bit busted, they're still very spectacular. The high rise apartment buildings have terraces, some a bit off kilter, that afford people living there magnificent views of the ocean. Vedado even has bountiful trees and green grass space where people play soccer, or chill out in the shade, a great place to nap in the park, as Nicole can testify. This neighborhood is also more developed than Habana Vieja and Centro Habana, and is where you can find most of the movie theatres. What was also intriguing about our domestic relocations was meeting our various hosts. To recount a bit, before moving to Vedado, Nicole and I actually stayed in two casa particulars in Habana Vieja.

The first few nights we were in Rafaela & Pepe's home ( the gentleman with the scars mentioned earlier). The rooms were ornate with Greco-Roman (but really African) columns, and the ceilings were huge. The first night we got there after 2am we settled into sleep lulled by the sounds of people playing dominos and chatting, and we were awakened by those same sounds mixed with the sounds of a primary school across the street.

We have learned that people's apartments are often hot so they socialize a lot outside, extending the community beyond their respective homes. That reminds me of growing up in the Bronx, hearing basketball games going into the middle of the night. Because we had not booked the room for a longer reservation we wound up moving a few blocks away to Pepe's son's casa particular. Eugenio is a doctor who is presently practicing medicine in Venezuela, and like his parents he was very nice to us and very protective. His place we learned was also co-managed by other siblings in the family. It's obvious that casa particulars are a great business to get into, especially ones listed in guide books, because while we were at Eugenio's the phone and door bell rang constantly, foreign travelers like us looking for places to stay. He had to turn some away.

During my first trip to Cuba I stayed in a casa particular managed by two women who cared for me dearly because they worried that my lack of Spanish would get me lost, that's how conscientious some hosts can be. While on that trip I had an interesting conversation with an AfroCuban hip hopper who bluntly asked me why I didn't stay with an AfroCuban family. I explained to him that I had wanted to but that I couldn't find a black Cuban family in any of my research. From that conversation that's when I learned how difficult it is for Cubans of African descent to get into the casa particular business, because it often requires a lot of money to repair housing to the standards for foreign travelers, and because Black Cubans' standards of living still have problems. So, on this second trip I was hoping Nicole and I would be able to find an AfroCuban family to stay with for cultural, political, and economic reasons. That didn't happen on this trip as well, and clearly reflects some of the economic inequity that black people in Cuba are still struggling with. More reflections on that later, but either way, staying in casa particulars gave us slightly better perspectives than staying in hotels catering to tourists.

When me moved to Vedado we stayed with Magali and Raul, our third set of hosts. Their place was amazingly surreal, but it was like stepping back into the 1960s. The furniture, the dishes, even the art work and the lamps reflected that period. Nicole and I both agreed that it felt like staying with our respective grandparents, even though Magali and Raul are probably the same age as our parents. As an aside, Magali told us that the artwork behind us in this photo was her wedding present!

We also learned that Magali was a career military woman with an auspicious history of being one of the first women Cuban soldiers to move up in the high ranks. I'm not really down with militarism but I can appreciate how difficult her struggles were in a macho culture. She told Nicole a great story of how she stood beside Fidel Castro, who commended her high scores but who towered over her like a huge building.

So our first night here was in a small room, and since small can mean different things to different people, here's how small it was.

Me being the tv junkie that I am, I was finally glad to get a tv, whatever it's size!

Havana has many faces, like any big city, but it reminds me of home, of living in the Bronx.

Both places are in constant motion...

...and both people live to talk.

When I was a kid when doing errands with my Mother the thing that fascinated me about her was how we'd walk the neighborhood and never get far because she'd stop and talk to people, or people would stop her to talk. That's what is was like during our 2 weeks in Cuba...

...meeting people...

...talking & sharing...

... connecting.

We met so many people while going to and from movies and continuing our search for the people who helped me make Bloodletting.

One of the unexpected connections we made was with Dona Gilda Merces Parns Bussue. While Nicole and I were rushing from one place to another Gilda asked me for directions in Spanish. She was like a lot of Cubans who assumed I was Cuban, and would approach me, expecting me to understand. When I'd tell them I didn't speak Spanish initially they didn't believe me. They'd say I looked like someone in their family, or a friend, or a neighbor. That's what happened with Gilda, except that she spoke English with us when she realized.

Gilda is a gentle, graceful, soft spoken woman who speaks English with a Caribbean accent. She told us that she was on her way to meet relatives she had never met before, and that she hadn't spoken English in awhile. My curiosity was piqued. I smelled a story. As Nicole and I walked with Gilda she explained that her father was an AfroCarribean immigrant from one of the islands. He came to Cuba, I believe she said in the early 1900s, because he found work here. He stayed and had a family but he never spoke Spanish and was shy. The relatives she was meeting today were from his home island.

When we told Gilda a little bit about ourselves, and about the documentary, how part of it includes stories about my mother and my brother, she shared with us her reflections on the Unites States. She said that in 1959, after the Revolution, she spent a few months in the U.S. but decided to return to Cuba because she said, "they treat black people terrible there." We exchanged contact information then she invited us to her home, which she said was modest but open to us. She said something like, "I don't have much. It's modest, but what I have is yours." I was touched. We kissed and hugged and went our separate ways, Gilda off to meet long lost relatives, and feeling more confident with her English; me and Nicole off to the festival, both feeling grateful to have made this connection.

Under another shady tree in a small park we met Consuelo Beyuer Roque, and her family, three generations of women, her daughter and her nieta, her granddaughter. Consuelo told us how she struggled and had nothing, that her shoes were even bad. Clearly they were a poor family. Coming from one myself, I was touched by their adversities. It also made me realize that as poor as I am in the United States I am more fortunate than Consuelo and her family.

On my first trip all of the delegates I traveled with brought supplies to give to people, the kinds of things we take for granted, bandages, tooth paste, sanitary napkins, aspirin. This second trip Nicole and I agreed to do the same, and we got a bunch of things to bring. A day before leaving for the trip my Mother wanted to do the same. So she and I went to the .99 Cent Store on Sunset Boulevard, and with a small budget, we got things for people. Before cashing everything out I saw a pair of magnifying reading glasses, and a thought popped into my head that I should get them. I did.

During our conversation with Consuelo, she told us that she couldn't read things because she said she didn't have glasses. Immediately Nicole and I worked out an agreed time to reconnect with Consuelo, to give her a care package along with the reading glasses. When we went our own ways I cried. Though I'm not unfamiliar with poverty it was sad to see a family so poor. I lived in the projects and couldn't afford lots of things, but poverty, whatever its form, is still sad. I never want to get used to it, or to get numb to the pain of poverty.

Wiping my eyes, trying not to get lost in the sadness, we bumped into a tall lean AfroCuban man with locks, pushing a cart. He and I nodded, an obvious mutually respectful connection because of our shared African ancestry, and because of our African locks, what many call dredlocks. Then he introduced himself as "The Fruitman" and asked me if I was a Rastafarian.

I've been asked that question many times, whether I'm a Rastafarian. By definition it means: "Rasta, or the Rastafari movement of Jah people, is a religious movement that reveres Haile Selassie I, the former emperor of Ethiopia, as King of Kings, Lord of Lords and the Lion of Judah. The name Rastafari comes from Ras Tafari, the pre-coronation name of Haile Selassie I, who Rastas of many mansions say is the earthly aspect of Jah (short for Jehova or the Rastafari name for God) and part of the Holy Trinity." When I asked The Fruitman if there were Cuban Rastafarians he told me that there was a prominent community. It was exciting to know.

From my experiences most Rastas are deeply intellectual and spiritual; they're kind and conscientious; they're usually always vegetarian and environmentally conscious, and they exude a love of life, a love of liberation and justice, and a strong sense of global community. The Fruitman was like this. He showed us photos of his family with international friends. He offered us Cuban ron, and invited me and Nicole into his house, where he introduced us to his wife and adorable daughters. Then he did the ultimate rasta thing: he pulled out a boom banging sound system, and sang us Cuban reggae karaoke, blasting the music so loud that a spontaneous party broke out in the streets in front of his house. He was a star and knew it. We all danced to reggae, he invited us to a rastafarian wedding, we exchanged contact information, and Nicole and I were off again into the streets of Havana. The Fruitman gave me this drawing from right off his wall and wished us well, restoring my sense of life. Big up to the Cuban Rastas and to Rastafarianism everywhere!

Searching For Movies & People

2005-12-20T19:30:00.000-08:00

Hotel Nacional is impressive as you enter its tiled lobby, walk by uniformed hotel workers opening doors for you, stroll through its outdoor gardens with pheasants chilling on the grass, and view the ocean from its cliff top park overlooking the Malecon.

The Hotel was not only the command center for festival coordinators, but it was also the hub for the filmmakers, where they drank mojitos and cubre libres, smoking, chatting, being filmmakers. It was fly, meaning it was cool. It was also like any other film festival where you could tell which projects had money, and financial backing just by the posters, and which ones didn't have any posters at all, and therefore no money. Here's a hint: if you stare long enough, and squint, then magnify the photo of the bullentin board above you'll see our poster for Bloodletting. It's tiny yet creative, and most definitely symbolizes our placement in the festival -- a dark horse. Normally, I dislike the unconscious use of racist, and or biased language that equate words referring to "black" or "dark" with bad and negatives values, but in this case, I think the word "Dark Horse" is positive and appropriate since the definition is that "a dark horse is a bit of a mystery."

Anyway, it was a great festival, the people were nice, not like other festivals where egos abound. Here, everyone shared the crumbs, like pieces of tape to put up their advertisement. Nicole and I shuttled between checking email in the business office, changing money into Cuban Convertibles, checking screening schedules, reading film synopses in the catalogue, and using pay phones to search for people I came back to reconnect with, people who volunteered to help with the doc who I'd met during my first trip to Cuba, but who I had lost contact with over the years it took to complete the project. I thought looking for those people would be easy, especially since a bunch of them were union workers, one of them was a doctor, and another a nurse, both long time healthcare workers. It wasn't.

We began our search in Centro Habana by visiting the CTC, the Confederation of Cuban Workers, the union organization that co-sponsored my first trip with the U.S. Healthcare & Trade Union Committee. While waiting to meet with the Director of International Relations, I was nervous about explaining why it had taken me so many years to finish the documentary. Nicole assured me that she thought the CTC would understand how me not having money slowed everything down. My concern was that the Cubans who had helped me would think less of me, that they would think that the project didn't matter to me becuase it took so long.

I was also concerned that some would think that I was a CIA plant since on my first trip I had overheard a few Cuban healthcare workers wonder aloud if I was videotaping the tour for the U.S. Military and the CIA. Though the idea of me collaborating with the American government is so far-fetched, it made me realize how much pressure Cubans have been living under given that the American government has for years adopted cruel and inhumane policies designed to hurt and destroy the Cuban government, but really the Cuban people. And what most Americans don't know is that there have been more than 60 attempts to kill Fidel Castro, the money for such clandestine operations coming directly from the United States. A definite misuse of American tax dollars.

When we finally met with the CTC Director of International Relations, Manuel Montero Bistilleiro, he barely remembered our delegation because they sponsor so many international trips and it had been 5 years ago. However, when I pulled out the dvd and showed him pictures from the trip he immediately recognized the faces of the coordinators of the U.S. Healthcare & Trade Union Delegation. I thought to myself, now Nicole and I will be able to reconnect with the people who helped, but it was not to be. Manuel was heading to Mexico for an international workers' conference that very day and couldn't help us in our search. Still, he was gracious and kind in seeing us and said he understood how having no money had prevented me from completing the documentary sooner. I was disappointed that he couldn't just pull out a magic file that listed everyone involved in my first trip, but at least I was able to give the CTC a copy of the documentary and thank them officially. Like most Cubans, he was kind and warm, and wished us well.

We then went to Hospital Nacional Hermanos Ameijeiras, the highest building in Centro Habana, and the place where innovative surgical techniques have been developed. Our next step in the search was to try to find Doctor Elsira Fernandez, a pediatrician who is one of the Cuban healthcare workers interviewed. Dr. Fernandez, who was intelligent and very shy when I interviewed her, explained the Cuban nationalized system. During the interview in her apartment off the Malecon she also told me what her life was like before the revolution, and I felt lucky to have been given a view into her personal life.

She admitted that she was a child of campesinos, poor country people, and that she had no chance of becoming anything other than that of a poor farmer, and a poor farmer's wife. She told me that life for the poor country people less than 50 years ago was miserable, and humiliating, especially since most of them were teased, and called guajiros, counutry bumpkins and hicks. Despite the difficulties she said that she and her sister both dreamed of becoming doctors, even though they knew it would never be, that it was unrealistic, that life in pre-revolutionary Cuba had many guarantees, that it was guaranteed that poor people would always remain poor, and that women would always remain uneducated and subject to sexism. When the revolution came and campesinos were offered scholarships to college Elsira and her sister knew that only one of them would be lucky enough to get educated. This caused them much sadness because they knew that the one sister left uneducated would never be able to fulfill her dream. Conflicted but also hopeful, Elsira and her sister both decided to apply for educational scholarships, and when they learned that both of them had been granted the chance to study medicine they felt as if a miracle had happened. 40 years later Dr. Fernandez and her sister are both doctors. Though her personal story was not included in the documentary I've always remembered it because I was impressed that two poor country girls with potential were given opportunities that changed their lives. Imagine what poor kids in the United States could do if we believed in their potential and stopped cutting scholarship programs.

Anyway, back to our search in the hospital, Nicole and I met with a few hospital workers, but none of them knew Dr. Fernandez, and there was no magic file with information referring to her. I remembered that she was nearing retirement age and that she was also working in the Public Relations department, but none of those details helped either. Another dead end. As we sat in the hospital lobby, disappointed and sweaty, and with tired feet, I wondered if I'd be able to reconnect with anyone.

The next person I was desperate to connect with was an AfroCuban nurse we interviewed, Sonia Ruiz Valdez, who worked in a Senior Citizen's Center in Centro Habana. But between looking for her, trying to schedule a trip to visit a Cuban filmmaker I connected with via the internet, and schlepping from our casa particular in Old Havana to Vedado, where the nucleus of the festival was, Nicole and I were exhausted. The photo of her napping in a park is real. She was so tired we had to sit there for at least a half hour, where she snoozed and rested, and where I watched some Cuban Jews having an event at the Casa de Amistad, the House of Friendship. Somewhere between her nap and my frustration we decided we should move closer to the festival. We had no idea it would become our domestic pattern, to continue moving from casa particular to casa particular. So, without that foreknowledge, we packed up our things, and made the move across town to Vedado.

From Our POV: The 27th Film Festival

2005-12-20T14:12:00.000-08:00

Diggin' the hot weather and the sights and sounds of Habana Vieja (Old Havana) we found out quickly that we were far from the center of the film festival. There are about 200 cinemas in Havana, most showing several screenings daily. Hundreds of movies are shown during the festival, and even in other provinces throughout the island.

The center of the film festival activities is held at the Hotel Nacional, in Centro Habana. Since Nicole and I were staying in Old Havana we had to trek from our casa particular to Centro Habana to check in and register. As foreigners we underestimated how long it would take to get to places. So, we walked, and walked, and walked, not something we Angelinos get a chance to do often, always stuck in our cars. At least we saw lots of things and met lots of people so friendly to us.

Ignoring our blistered feet, potholed streets, and traffic everywhere, we passed beautiful parks and old stone churches; we saw lots of guaguas drive by, Soviet tracker trailer trucks acting as buses for the people. These behemoths are usually packed from head to toe with Cubans day and night, people pushing in beyond usual comfort levels because the next bus might never come. What was difficult for me was breathing in billows of black smoke and exhaust coming from these industrial buses as well as cars, taxis, and even coco taxis, also known as huevolitos (little eggs).

we also passed the Capitolio Nacional, which is similar to the U.S. Capitol but richer in details. It took 5000 workers 3 years to build this sucker, and mostly everyone told us interesting information about the Capitolio. It used to be where the Cuban Congress met but now it's where the Cuban Academy of Sciences, and the National Library of Science and Technology is located. Seems like the U.S. and Cuba have some things in common.

Once we checked in, got our badges, and this year's catalogue, which was very costly ($10), we learned first hand that the festival is well known for mishaps, even oversights that everyone shrugs off saying, "Aye, this is Cuba!" Despite not knowing where and when our doc was going to be screened, and having a hard time finding out such informationfrom anyone, Nicole and I loved all the hustle and bustle, all the filmmakers from all over Latin America, Europe, even Asia. Between my poor Spanish and being one of very few black women filmmakers in this year's festival I was still in awe of it all. And again everyone from the festival coordinators to the taxi drivers made us feel at home and treated us warmly. The Cubans are certainly not like what we are led to believe. They have a strong sense of community and family that includes people like me and Nicole.

These are our mug shots taken for our badges that allowed us to get into any movie screened anywhere in the festival. I loved that, especially since it let us go ahead of lines of people waiting to get in, and the lines were always long, like around the block long. Screenings start as early as 10AM and run as late as 11:30PM, meaning that fliks started at almost midnight and people are still out waiting in line to get in. They are truly film lovers.

Movie tickets are priced at about 2 Cuban pesos, which is intentionally made to be cheap so most Cubans can afford it. We found that most couldn't afford to buy the catalogue, so where ever we were our book became the people's book. With hundreds of movies to select having access to the synposes is essential.

During our quest to see movies, and to find out about our screening, which involved lots more walking everywhere, we came across an art display between the Malecon and Hotel Nacional. The artwork represents this year's festival and was viscerally enlightening and visually shocking. Walking up on it, Nicole and I were stunned by the obvious political content and thought people back home would love to see it. Let us know what you think of it.

Most Cubans, whatever their educational level, are film lovers, and also very politically conscious. There is no monolithic perspective on films and politics, but the commonality that Cubans share is their intellect, their great conversational skills, and their love of film critique.

Visual Timeline Highlights

2005-12-20T11:36:00.000-08:00

Nicole and I are back in Los Angeles and what a trip we had. Sorry for not being able to post our photos while away but here they are. Aye, better late than never. Enjoy!
Lorna.

Timeline Begins:

departing from LAX. Posing with Hays, who drove us in his 2 seater pick up truck. Nicole graciously sits in back like a pretzel while my knees slam into the glove box. Who knew it would be a precursor to our experiences in Cuba. Thanks, dude.

Figuring out the digital camera in flite.

Aerial shot from one of the many flights. We got to Cancun and were shocked to see such devastation from the hurricane. Trees were blown down. There was debris from houses destroyed. Our flite also experiened the hurricane's fall out. As our plane was landing a few feet from the tarmac it suddenly pulled up. Dramatic but what a fright it gave me and nicole, and most other passengers, too! Turns out that there was a power outage at the airport and the flite tower people told our piolets to circle until they could figure things out. We circled around the airport in the yucatan for almost 15 - 20 minutes. we landed safely with a gulp in Cancun. Had a four hour lay over which i wouldn't recommend.

We caught the last Mexicana Click flite to Cuba. Arrived in Havana at midnight and went through customs (Aduana), passing cute little dogs like cocker spaniels sniffing people and suitcases. it was a long wait in baggage, but nicole saved the day by preventing a woman from accidentlally taking our bag.

After getting to bed at 2am here is our first full day in Habana Vieja, Old Havana. Talk about going back in time.

here's where we stayed the first few days in a casa particular, rooms rented to travelers wanting to escape the hotel scene. more time warp elegance. it was like hanging out in our respective grand and greatgrandparents' homes, mine in Harlem, Nicole's in Nebraska. And now still in present day Cuba.

Here is our first host Don Pepe from Pepe and Rafaela's. When Nicole told him about Bloodletting he lifted his shirt and showed us his scarred back from a serious problem that he says he had surgery for and never paid for. His son is a doctor practicing in Venezuela.

views from Habana Vieja casa particular terraces. que linda!

more great eye candy!

Wearing comfortable shoes and using a guide book with a map are key.

El Ultimo Dia

2005-12-18T12:34:00.000-08:00

Well, it’s our last full day in Cuba and it has been an adventure. We’ve had lots of computer problems so many our blog entries have been destroyed. Such is the nature of the beast, I guess. I will recreate them with photos upon our return home.

Some of the highlights of the trip have been the many people we’ve met and befriended. While in Santa Clara we spent time with Arnaldo and Elena, discussing documentaries, politics, and ecology. We had a beautiful vegetarian lunch made by Elena and her mother, his mother in law, a lovely woman who shared stories of her love and knowledge of herbs for ailments. The spread was amazing, which included eggs, rice, beans, salad, etc. It was divine. Nicole and I have had the best meals in the homes of our Cuban hosts and friends, and we are so grateful to them for that, considering that being a vegetarian in Cuba is very difficult. During our lunch we learned how difficult it has been for Cubans during the Special Period, details that often get skipped when discussing bigger politics. Needless to say, life for Cubans since the fall of the Soviet Bloc is difficult, and often they are unable to find the very basic things we take for granted. Though I am considered a poor person in the United States, by the standards I am rich, and this is so disturbing to me. Anyway, Arnaldo also arranged two screenings of Bloodletting there in his amazing city, one with a group of documentary filmmakers, many who have received awards for their work. It was an amazing evening of discussion and I wasn’t even nervous during the entire Q and A session, how unusual for me. The warmth and professional appreciation was amazing, and there is even hope that the documentary may show on Cuban TV. Will keep you posted on that, and will update up further on more details on that screening with a podcast on the website, for those interested in seeing how amazing insightful and sharp the Cuban documentary filmmakers and critics are.

Nicole and I were also lucky to have had Arnaldo show us the mountains with his wife Elena in their province, and we saw a cave, though did not venture in due to Nicole’s affinity to draw bats. We hired a taxi with enough power to drive up into the mountains, which were beautiful. Of course, if anyone knows me that was a challenge due to my motion sickness, so as the joke went throughout the day trip, I left my mark in a few places. Between ascending and descending in the mountains and curves I got very sick and through up a few times. Elena and Arnaldo were so kind to stop at a pharmacy and they and Nicole got me bottles of ginger extract for like 30 cents a bottle. So, I spent most of our day trek shooting video, sucking down the ginger extract, which Arnaldo assumed I liked because of the alcohol. What a great sense of humour he has, and while I spent the rest of the trip ralphing up my guts up in front of a beautiful museum in Trinidad, and along the road back to Santa Clara everyone laughed at my illness, making jokes, and easing the tension. It was like we had found a piece of home with Arnaldo and Elena. When Nicole and I left the next day we didn’t have the chance to say good bye to our new friends, due to some snafu at the bus station, and we were saddened by that. Arnaldo is a kindred spirit and artist that I hope to continue collaborating with in the future. More details on him later and what an amazing filmmaker he is, even though he loves the mountains that made me puke up my guts.

Nicole and I returned to Havana and spent the next day hanging out with Las Krudas, eating their lovely food, and watching Showtime DVDs of the L Word, a show Nicole and I have never seen. What a trip to watch it in Havana. We also spent a day at the beach, Playa Santa Maria, or a little east of it. Nicole was the one who insisted we trek there because I was worried about finances but with her gentle prodding we went and it was worth it. The beach was where regular Cubans went, so we avoided much of the tourist trappings that can be so prevalent here in Cuba. We sat on the beach watching the crystal clear blue ocean water while avoiding the Portuguese Man of Wars, jelly fish beings that have long tentacles and a terrible sting which I suffered from. Ouch. I also had a Cuban cop ask me for my passport because he thought I was an Afro Cuban hanging out with a tourist, that being Nicole. When I told the cop I was from L.A: he didn’t believe me, which has been happening often during this trip, having Cubans from all walks of life think I am Cuban and event comment that I look like someone in their family or their neighbour. What a trip. The beach day ended with Nicole and me watching an Afro Cuban family play a game with a ball, something in between Keep Away and Dodge Ball. It was great. They seemed so familiar to me, playing competitively and yet warmly, with sharp senses of humour, like African Americans. We returned that night and hung out at the Malecon at night, drinking Cuban ron, meeting a few gorgeous Cuban men together, being serenaded by a talented independent musician, and having a lovely evening with the full moon illuminating everything. What a treasure.

Well, there are more details and my internet time is costing us a lot of money so I must end this for now. We have shot more that 200 photos, which we will share with you, so stay in touch with the blog even when we return.

My last piece of information is that tomorrow we fly home, and we are hoping to return without any melodrama, given that we entered Cuba illegally, based on U.S. laws, so keep your fingers crossed that all goes well with our re-entry. We are getting rid of anything that has Cuba on it but are prepared to tell the truth to U.S. Customs if asked. Pray for us. Until our next entry, ciao from Havana.

Lorna

Making her mark...

2005-12-15T17:00:00.000-08:00

Hello from Nicole. I'm writing today because Lorna is stuck in the room, very "mal de estomago." (Upset stomach.) We went today with Ilena and Arnoldo, our new friends from Santa Clara. They are absolutely wonderful people - starting as contacts, and turning into real friends. They took us up the mountains to see the beautiful plants and environment of Cuba in the highlands. Then we went down the other side of the mountains into Trinidad, where we saw a completely preserved colonial city. When the sugar industry died in the early 1900's, nobody modernized the city, and what is preserved today could be exactly what it feels like in a Spanish colonial city. Many of the local artisans produce the kind of lacy tablecloths that my Oma and her mother made, with the fabric cut out and hand stitched.
It was in this town that Lorna started really leaving her mark in Cuba. It was in front of the art museum that she let loose with her entire contents. And she has continued leaving her mark since then. Poor thing. Driving back, she would ask to stop, and leave her mark wherever we were at the time. We made jokes about it, but poor thing, she was really miserable.
Beyond Trinidad a few miles is the south coast of Cuba. This is the side of Cuba where the sand goes down precipitously - but it is still icy blue colored with white sands. It was calm and warm - absolutely beautiful. The north side of the Island has a much more gradual incline into the ocean, so it is the prefered side for the beach goers.
I have only a few minutes to tell the stories of the day, but suffice it to say that our friendship with Ilena and Arnoldo we fully expect to be lifelong. I hope that we may be able to come here to work on some project with Arnoldo sometime, maybe living in this country for a year or so. It seems that despite much hardship, and the difficulty that many of the artists and intellectuals have in feeling trapped from leaving here, the values and warmth of the community are so refreshing and livable. I know that Lorna would have a difficult time staying here without her fast internet and Cable TV, but I think it could be done, and a tremendously enriching experience.
Arnoldo also organized a tremendous premiere of the movie last night here with a club of documentary afficianados. We grabbed video of the rich discussion afterwards, and in short time, let me just say it was well-recieved. Joseph has been invited to live in Cuba once again. And there is interest in exposing the work to a larger audience - on Cuban TV! We are crossing our fingers that this could work out. I'm sure Lorna will say more.
Tomorrow we are back to Havana - the last day of the film festival. Look forward to more of the story-telling! Love to all family and friends.

Times Two !!

2005-12-14T11:48:00.000-08:00

I'm writing this blog from the house of our wonderful hosts Arnaldo and his family in Santa Clara, a province about 270 kilometers from the city of Havana. It's been a whirl wind of travels and experiences. Here is how things have evolved since my last blog:

Nicole and I spent a stimulating weekend with our new commadres Las Krudas, an all woman hip hop group. We met up with them at the Armas Plaza in Habana Vieja, where they are part of an amazing theatre troupe that performs to crowds of people and children in this old square with cobbled stones, an antique fountain, and very near the malecon. The performance that Las Krudas is part of is a combination of street performance, dance, theatre, rap, and even Yoruban culture. The men and women dress in colorful costumes like African clowns with colorful faces of the sun, dancing and skipping around on stilts, singing, rapping; there are also men and women dancers running around, and even musicians playing trumpets and drumming. It is truly a fantasic show that adults and children enjoy and the energy is more than you can imagine. Videos and pics are on the way.

Once we followed the troupe through the streets on a parade through the neighborhood we wound up back to the square, where Nicole and I happened upon the Fruit Man. Now, who is the Fruit Man, you may ask? Well, we learned that there is only one Fruit Man in Havana Vieja. He is a warm and spirited Rastafarian who saw me and asked if I was a Rasta and if I like Reggae. My Spanish is still not the greatest so Nicole has been my translator and she and I were invited by the Fruit Man to visit his family into their home. Inside a modest first floor apartment we met Fruit Man and his two daughters, 2 beautiful little girls, and his great wife who is expecting another child. I learned that there are lots of Rastafarian Cubans, and the Fruit Man insisted we listen to Cuban Reggae. It was great as he set up his sound system of huge speakers (it reminded me of home so much) and Nicole and I took lots of photos of the Fruit Man and his family while he entertained us, singing live reggae. It is beyond words to see how many AfroCubans love their African roots and want to connect with me. As an aside, so many people here, black, white, and even those in between ask me so often if I am Cuban because I look like someone in their family or even a neighbor. Back to our Rasta experience, after a few dances with them they invited us to a Rasta wedding this coming week and we went off to meet to Cuban musicians who took us to a place where we drank mojitos, listened to great live music, and danced.

While here Nicole and I have also been exploring what life is like for vegetarians, and have eaten at some retaurants for veg-heads in Habana. To be blunt, it is easier to be a meat eater here but we have learned that ther are more Cubans becoming vegetarians. The food is still evolving and most vegis cook at home. Still, getting enough protein here is an issue.

The next day, Sunday, Nicole and I were invited to eat a vegetarian meal at the home of Las Krudas, where we ate great black beans, white rice, and salad, and tons of ron, Cuban rum. Though I am not a heavy drinker when in Rome, or in this case Cuba, drink. During dinner with Olivia and Oldmyera (the spelling is wrong and I will correct later) we met some more womderful sisters with locks, one who lives in Denmark, and we had great conversation, learning about our different lives. We have really made a connection with these revoluntaires, and listening to their hip hop music was amazing. We have some of their music and will upload some of their tracks, but needless to say, their lyrics are edgy, intelligent, and pushes the envelope. One song entitled La Gorda, translated as "The Fatty" is a song that challenges the body images of Cuban women, and is so universal. I intend on writing and directing a music video for this track for Las Krudas, and if I am lucky I will return sometime in August during the Hip Hop festival.

After a fun filled weekend Monday rolled around and Nicole and I prepared for our 2pm screening of Bloodletting, translated as Desangrismo: Vida, Muerte, Salud. We got to the Charlie Chaplin theatre, where 15 of our own people waiting to see the documentary were chatting with us, when we discovered 15 minutes before the screening that our movie had been CANCELED!!!! Yup, canceled. Nicole went into the theatre to get passes for our group then returned to tell us that the only subtitled copy of Bloodletting, due in from Venezuela, had not shown up. Ugh!! We apologised to our crowd then went to the National Hotel to speak with coordinators who told us that they had rescheduled the showing on Tuesday. Well, Tuesday we showed up at the Charlie Chaplin theatre where there was confusion about which movie was being shown, so we had a tiny crowd!! Though that was disappointing it was great to see the few viewers in the audience crying!!! They were touched by my Mother and Brother and couldn't believe how difficult and expensive it is to live in the U.S. One Cuban woman told us that she thought Joe was handsome and that he should move to Cuba where he would do much better, so Joe learn Spanish!!

remaining calm

2005-12-12T14:53:00.000-08:00

Hola folks frtom Havana. Sorry I have not been able to keep updating you all as often as I had planned but such is life. I will update the blog meticulously upon my return. Juswt to let you all know, Nicole and I are meeting great folks here, seeing some interesting flicks, though we did see one Mexican one in which we walked out of. Ugh! Basura, translation...garbage. Our screening was scheduled to be today. We got there all dressed up in our nice clothes only to discover that it was CANCELED!! Nicole reamined calm as she informed our 12 guests of the mala news. I remained sad and quiet. Turns out that the copy that was translated into spanish from Venezuela had not shown up yet. We had to figure out the issues, and Nicole in her level headedness as a great producer learned that the doc will be screening tomorrow, which changed our plans to Santa Clara where our compadre Arnaldo is coordinating 2 screenings with independent filmmakers and medical students. Though I squeezed out a few tears I thought about the Kabbalah and breathed deeply, thinking that it will all work out, that it is more inportant to remain calm. Well, it has all worked out and we will have a repeat performance Tuesday at 2pm at the Charoile Chaplin Theatre!!! What I am most looking forward to is finally meeting Arnaldo, who works in television in Santa Clara!!! I am also excited to have befriended the rappers Krudas, two amazing women rappers, and I will be shooting a short music video before leaving. Well more dteails later.
Ciao from Lorna and Nicole

Havana Dreams

2005-12-10T14:55:00.000-08:00

We have about 5 minutes on the internet, so I'm quickly scrawling some of the amazing things that Lorna & I have encountered.

We just met with two amazing women - Rap artists - part of the Cuban group "Las Crudas." They are amazing artists, commited to producing their own voice and experience in their music, and it was an amazing connection.

In the meantime, we have moved from Havana Vieja to a new spot in Havana Vedado, an area closer to all the wonderful cinemas where the festival is going on. We have seen four movies so far - 3 Cuban documentaries, and one movie from Argentina. It has been wonderful to be around people talking about movies, loving the stories. The audiences here are incredibly enthusiastic and love talking about movies. Lorna & I could not feel more at home. The only problem is we still are struggling with Spanish - but HEY.

We've got great stories, lots of stories, videos, and photos, and look forward to sharing them when we get back.

We´ve Arrived!

2005-12-08T14:22:00.000-08:00

Lorna did a huge and wonderful post yesterday, only to have the Cuban internet swallow it up and kill it. Yes, we are in Cuba, and dealing with the inadequacies of Cuban technology. But YES, we are in Cuba, and it is beautiful, and energentic, and warm, and that´s just the people.

We have not figured out how to put up our beautiful photos yet, but we will.

Our travels were way too long ... we left at 11 PM on Monday night from LA, and arrived in Charlotte, NC, around 6 AM. Then we waited there for our flight to Cancun. It was a fairly uneventful flight... until we arrived in Cancun. As the plane swooped in we saw much of the devastation of the hurricane from last month. Houses literally in rubbish piles, completely destroyed, and trees leaning over. Then as we approached the runway, we were probably 100 yards from the ground, suddenly the plane started going up, quickly! Everyone in the plan looked around, wondering what the heck was going on... we circled a bit, and the pilot got on the PA and told us on the ground they had had a power failure and we did not have last minute clearance to land. Clearly they are still struggling with the effect of the hurricane there.

Next, we experienced airport hell. We were about an hour and a half late, and as a result missed the right connection to Havana ... we had to wait 6 hours in that airport ... and didn´t arrive in Cuba until 11.30 that night. We arrived at our Casa Paticular around 1 AM.

We have spent the last 2 days trying to find people who are in the Cuban part of the film, and have failed as of yet. This evening we are finally attending our first film.

Lorna´s film will be shown on Monday the 12th at 2 PM at the Cine Charlot, a small cinema in the Charles Chaplain theatre.

Much more to tell, but no time right now to fill you in. Looking forward to a more leisurely internet writing session. We have lots of pictures that we´ll upload when we can. We also have made a hip hop connection and will be part of an interview with two female hip hop artists (raperas en espanol) who are very popular. The woman who is doing the interview is a lawyer who also interviews musicians and we happened to meet her the night we flew into Havana. More details to follow later.

Off Finally!

2005-12-05T19:19:00.000-08:00

It's the night of Dec. 5th. We've got an evening flight out of LAX (Uh, the horror!) to Cancun, and to avoid the nightmare of driving to that monstrous airport and parking for 14 days at sky high prices, we are lucky that our friend and Nicole's AFSCME coworker Hays Witt is taking us. Thanks Hays. Dude, you're the best. Thanks also to Lisa Hubbard, and to my mother Evelyn Sheppard for subsidizing part of our trip to the festival. And to my brother Joe for watching the dawgs.

So, we are finally off. We will be traveling for almost a day between lay overs etc. We are scheduled to arrive in Havana tomorrow Dec. 6th at midnight, Cuban party time. We will probably be exhausted and desperate to grab a cab and find our way to our casa particular, a private home we are renting a room for a few days while we situation ourselves and figure out the details of the film festival.

Okay, that's it. Visit back for more details.

Ciao,
Lorna

Hip Hop Eye Candy

2005-11-30T18:56:00.000-08:00

As the count down to Dec. 5 continues I wanted to show off some phat graffiti. I'm hoping to discover Cuba's hip hop art scene and will post what I find.

Enjoy!
LG

U.S. Customs & The Blockade

2005-11-28T19:06:00.000-08:00

">With only a week to go before embarking on our journey to the 27th Nuevo Latinoamericano festival Nicole and I continue to deal with how the U.S. Embargo against Cuba, aka "the blockade," impacts travel to the island nation. We've been advised on protocol with U.S. Customs and will be traveling with phone numbers to lawyers who understand the embargo laws. A few years ago when I shot the documentary I experienced U.S. Customs when traveling from Mexico to the U.S. I was asked if I'd traveled to any place deemed dangerous and Cuba came up in the conversation. Note: it's illegal to lie to U.S. Customs, so when I was asked if I'd visited I told them that I spent a month there. That opened another bag of worms. I was asked if I'd spent any American currency during my stay. When I told the Customs Agent I shot a documentary I learned that there was a tape restriction, a fine line detail to the U.S. Embargo. I tell you, you never know how deep the restrictions go unless you have to deal with it. I learned that it was illegal to re-enter the U.S. after traveling from Cuba with more than 5 videotapes. I'd shot 30 tapes! Gulp.

Needless to say I was shocked and worried that my footage would be confiscated, which was just about to happen when the words "Cuba" and "video tapes" merged. As luck or fate (if you believe in the Kabbalah) would have it there was a bomb scare due to an unattended package left nearby. There was mad drama around that and this gave me the chance to regroup with my fellow U.S. Healthcare and Trade Union Delegates. I briefed them on what I'd learned and we divided the tapes between everyone. When I returned to another U.S. Customs Agent I declared my 5 tapes, and no one asked me if I had visited Cuba, so I re-entered the U.S. uneventfully. That day the delegates, healthcare workers & union organizers, also traveled to their respective homes carrying no more than 5 video tapes each. Over a few weeks the tapes were sent to me in Northern Cali from places like Canada and New York. I'm grateful to my travel mates for making that happen. This documentary has really been a grassroots effort from beginning to end.

Now that it has been a few years since my first trip to the island I understand that our country is prosecuting more American travelers heading to Cuba. I don't think there will be any drama with this trip, but we are preparing for a worse case scenario, and will be carrying numbers of lawyers and organizations familiar with dealing with the U.S. Embargo against Cuba. We are also considering using Euros to avoid the American currency issue.

Here's another example of how wack the embargo is. Because you can't mail things to Cuba, like put a stamp on a personal letter and post it via our bankrupted U.S. Postal system, Nicole and I have had to be creative and figure out ways around the restrictions. Fed Ex flat out can not mail anything because it's an American company even though it's international. Then there's DHL. Well, the great thing is that you can send things to Cuba via DHL, but it can only be small documents, and absolutely no video tapes. So what's up with the restriction of video tapes? After a lot of research I've learned that because Cuba is considered a "totalitarian government" (words straight from our U.S. State Department) that video tapes are deemed dangerous materials because secret information can be transported. Um? Bombs versus video tapes? Anyway, so to get the Bloodletting video screener to the festival coordinators in Cuba we relied on a network of supporters to get it there. There are people like Walter Lippman. Catherine Murphy. A couple of other folks I'll include later. The point is, I've learned how powerful old-fashioned methods are, like handing off a package and relying on someone to travel with it and then hand deliver it. That's how we got the video tape to the Cuba and Venezuelan film festivals. Here's just a last bit of info to prove how much the embargo is a pain. After Bloodletting was screened in the Venezuelan Documentary Festival this past November the Coordinator Ruben Capella agreed to help us by sending a Spanish subtitled copy to the Cuban coordinators, thus saving us loads of time, money, and difficulties meeting a deadline in Cuba. Well, the Venezuelans also could not send the video tape via Fed Ex in Caracas because the TAPE originated in the U.S. and is still restricted by the U.S. Embargo! The only way Venezuelan Film Festival Coordinators could send the video tape was via people; someone volunteered to take it with them on a trip to Cuba and hand deliver it before the festival deadline. That's what the embargo does, it makes it difficult to have a human connection with Cubans. Well, that's it for now. Stay tuned for more stories and future podcasts of the festival.

Peace & Regards,
Lorna

Nov. 22, 2005

2005-11-23T07:15:00.000-08:00

It's a forte night before Nicole and I embark on our trek to the 27th Festival International Nuevo Cine Latinoamericano, aka the Havana Film Festival. Yippeee!!! Bloodletting is one of many films being screened in Cuba, and it is an honor to be one filmmaker admist a bunch of an international filmmakers.

Thing is, since I was a kid growing up in the boogie down Bronx, I've always wanted to visit Cuba. It must be that island-bronx connection. Anyway when I got the chance to visit Cuba to make Bloodletting it was a dream come true, and I swore that I'd return to show my film. I feel lucky to have been chosen, and I feel quesy that it's all going on the credit cards! Ugh! But I know I'm making the right choice to go.

What I'm looking forward to is watching movies galore, though my Spanish sucks. I'm eager to check out Cuban hip hop. Palabra a la madre! Translation: Word to the Mother! And I'm excited to make a global connection while returning to Cuba to thank everyone for helping make Bloodletting happen. For everyone back in Estados Unidos (U.S.A.) who'll check out the blog and keep in touch with our trek, I want to say: thank you, thank you, thank you. Without your support and belief in the project I wouldn't be going.

Stay tuned for stories & reflections from la isla de Cuba!!!!

Peace,
Lorna