Preparing to Go:
Our dogs are well fed. We chose a high quality dog food, avoid cheap snacks that might be unhealthy for them and monitor table scraps. Sometimes, I think that they eat better than we do. But, last week, husband came home to find Lucy the Doberman playing with a twelve inch long sheepshead fish. A dead fish. A dead stinky fish. She doesn’t have any thumbs capable of manipulating a rod and reel or cast net nor had she been wade fishing like a bear, catching spawning fish that leap upstream with her teeth. The only thing we can figure out was that an unlucky osprey dropped the day’s catch in our yard. While the Osprey might have gone hungry that night, Lucy thought it was her lucky day. She tossed the fish around, rolled on it, kept it from the other dogs and had a grand time. The smell didn’t bother her nor did the fact that the fish was dead. It was her fish, and she was very happy with it. Until husband took it away from her and put it in the garbage. She looked forlornly at the trash can for a long time. I could tell she was remembering how much trouble she got in the last time she raided the garbage cans. Then, she hung her head and resolutely walked away. I thought a lot about Lucy’s fish this week as I frantically got ready for my trip to Cuba. One of the reasons that Orphans Heart has access to Cuba is that they provide Leadership Training for the Church and for the Children’s Ministry workers. Some of the team volunteered to work with the children in the afternoon, but we had to also prepare classes for the adults in the evening. Eight to twelve hours of teaching on a topic that would help leaders in the church work with the children. We had a tough time figuring out what to teach that would be appropriate. After several different ideas were jettisoned, I settled on storytelling and oral history with a little bit of public speaking thrown in. Several members of the group offered to help, but the majority of the work fell on me. I had to prepare a Powerpoint and handouts in Spanish. Because I speak no Spanish much less write it, I used Google translator. I have no idea if they make sense. I feel very inadequate. Like Lucy’s fish, I have only a stinky mess to offer. Yet, just as in Lucy’s eyes, a fish dropping from the heavens was a miracle, Jesus took two stinky fish and five loaves of bread and turned them into enough to feed 5,000 people. Like the little boy who gave up his lunch, my willingness is all that God asks. He will take my offering and use it to feed the people of Cuba. I only hope that unlike Lucy’s fish, it doesn’t stink!
Day 1: Travel Day
I thought I was ready, but I was not prepared for Cuba. Generally, when I travel for pleasure, I read all about the area first. I learn about the attractions and places that are important to see. I check out the reviews of restaurants. I study a map to where I am going and what will be located around me. By the time we are ready to leave, I know about the history of the area and have a good idea of where we should go and what we should see. Coming so soon on the heels of a Guatemala trip with illness, many work responsibilities and evening meetings, I didn’t even think about educating myself about Cuba. I just made sure I had my passport and that my bags weighed the correct amount. I was worried, my passport went through the wash when I returned from Guatemala and my bags were overweight. I need not have worried. My passport was fine, scanning properly at the airport check in, and my bags were never weighed, even in Miami. No doubt an answer to prayer as despite my unpreparedness in other ways, I had prayed a lot about this trip. I am not sure anyone can prepare for Cuba. Upon landing at the Havana airport, we sat (or stood in some cases) on the plane for almost an hour. Though we could see the terminal, we were not allowed to debark and walk to it. We had to wait until a bus came to get us and transport us but there was no bus. “When will the bus get here?” we asked, impatiently. Several of us really needed to use the bathroom. Finally, a bus came, we rode on it for less than five minutes to the terminal and debated whether we might attract negative attention to ourselves if we ran for the banos. I made it and found relief only to learn my first lesson about Cuba, bring your own toilet paper. I shook my booty and went out to stand in another line for customs, then, another line for security only to wait for another hour for our bags to be unloaded and inspected. When we finally made it out of the airport, it was like stepping back into time. Cars from the 1950s and 60s waited in the parking lot. They matched the architecture and age of the buildings. The modern clothing of the people is a sharp contrast to the scene. They yelled names of friends and loved ones from the crowd as police officers guarded a passage through the mob. Exiting, we were greeted by Jonathan, our Cuban contact from the church and his family. We boarded a brand new Mercedes bus and settled in for the ride to the church. I felt like I could breathe for the first time all day. Calling out the names of the antique cars on the road kept us occupied as we travelled into the center of Havana to the “New Pines Church” which is located just blocks from the Main Square and Capitol. The church members all wear T-Shirt emblazoned with the words “Un Gran De Arena” translated “one grain of sand”. They believe in this sea of people who live in Havana, particularly in their older, poverty stricken neighborhood, that they can still make a difference. As a group, they can impact people’s lives for Christ. They do this through a feeding program for senior adults, an after school program for children where they do crafts and learn Bible stories and get their evening meal, tutoring and other outreach. By reaching the forgotten, they hope to be allowed into people’s homes and families as they share the love of Christ. The narrow building where they are housed is three stories. A multipurpose room and kitchen on the ground level, church and offices on the second floor and dorms and apartment for the pastor on the third floor. We will occupy two rooms with three bunk beds and a bathroom in each this week. A spacious porch overlooking the street will be our living room. After dinner of beans, pork and rice and a brief team meeting, we went to sleep with the sounds of the city as our lullaby.
Day 2: Being Love
Nothing prepared me for Havana, neither can I adequately describe it in words to someone who has not been here, particularly an American. We do not stand out in this city that has been off limits to Americans for so many years. It is a popular tourist destination for Europeans so as long as we don’t speak, we look like any other tourist. Except for me, with my wide brimmed hat, large camera and sunglasses, I could easily blend in with a tour group of Japanese tourists. When we speak though, everyone knows we are Americans. Regulations seem to be easing. Though we had not yet exchanged our dollars into “tourist pesos”, (there are two denominations here, one for Nationals and one for visitors), some people were willing to accept small bills of American money. We saw buildings and forts that could easily be found in St. Augustine while the Capitol appears to have been transplanted from Washington, DC. The buildings could have been found in any large American city a century ago while the wide boulevards and squares are European in design. Traffic is horrendous. Many intersections do not have street lights and crossing them on foot takes a tremendous amount of daring. Despite the lack of infrastructure including safe crosswalks, public toilets, intact sidewalks, and garbage cans, from the amount of new construction and historic preservation restoration, it appears that Cubans are optimistic about the future. Everywhere you look, you see construction equipment and scaffolding. Even the capital is covered in scaffolding as workers prepare to restore its dome and façade. Historic buildings are being transformed into hotels. The center of the historic capitol hides the poverty of the people living just a few blocks off the main plaza. This afternoon, we met the children that we will be working with. They have many behavior problems steaming from being the offspring of drug addicts, alcoholics and prostitutes. Their mothers sit on the doorways steps from the church and call out to potential customers. Their fathers are wanted for crimes like robberies, in jail or hiding from authorities. Their homes reek of cigarette smoke and alcohol. Yet like all children, no matter what their circumstances, they long to be loved. That is our job this week. To be love. Teaching, crafts or telling Bible Stories, are all secondary to being love. To hold a hand, caress a head, kiss on the cheek, cradle in our laps. Children, no matter where they are born or to whom, want only to be loved.
Evening one: Three Billy Goats Gruff
Leadership training began tonight. Fifteen children’s ministry leaders and teachers gathered for dinner and class. I introduced the topic and we began analyzing stories for their parts and what makes them compelling. I quickly realized that language would be a barrier to my topic. How do you tell a compelling story when you have to stop after every sentence to let the translator catch up? And then, there was the story of the Three Billy Goats Gruff which I had chosen as one of my examples. I did not only want to use Bible stories as I was warned that the teaching could not only be religious so I thought that folk or fairy tales would be appropriate. Except my lack of understanding of the Spanish language did not warn me that The Three Billy Goats Gruff in Spanish translates to The Three Macho Homosexuals. Major fail! After my class got over their giggling and I recovered from my embarrassment, we moved on to “Are You My Mother?” I learned by their expressions and comments that the story was too young. I worried that I had insulted the group, but they were soon laughing along with the story. Afterwards, a participant told me the lesson was interesting and good information. I hope so. I don’t want to waste their time.
Day 3: The Aquarium
On Saturday, we were supposed to take the children to a park to play games and sports. Because none of our team is under 50, we were dreading this day. “I’m not an athlete!” was our major complaint. Upon arrival in Havana we were pleased to discover that instead of playing in the park, we would be taking the children to the Cuban National Aquarium. Though it was not of the magnitude of Sea World, we were delighted. At least, we were not running after a soccer ball! The children were beyond excited. Though we could not understand what they were being told the night before, it was obvious from their expressions that they were very happy. Jonathan told us that most of the children had not been to the aquarium even though it is just a short bus ride away. They barely managed to sit still on the bus, but Jonathan told them that bad behavior would result in expulsion from the after school program so they were very good. We had each been assigned a group of children to chaperone and my two, a boy and a girl, worked hard to stay with me although they wanted to run ahead and see the animals. There were lots of turtles, fish, sea lions (sea wolves in Cuba) and dolphins. After looking at all the turtles and fish including the sharks that drew shrieks of excitement from the children, we went to the sea lion show and then, the dolphin show. Of course, the vendors selling snacks were a distraction. Though we all had American money, we did not have any tourist money yet, so we had to say no, which made us sad though the children did not beg us to buy for them. Some of the children had money and I was impressed with how they shared with their friends. A small bag of chips goes a long way when everyone only takes two! Of course, then, they wanted something to drink! Though the park was small, we walked a lot. The ocean front section was washed away in a storm ten years ago and new show stadiums built farther inland, plus the children all insisted on sitting on the top rows of the stadium! After our time at the aquarium, we went to a nearby park for a picnic. The spoiled Americans looked for picnic tables, restrooms and garbage cans, of which there were none. The children sat on the ground to eat. Some squatted behind trees to relieve themselves. A garbage bag hung from a nearby tree. Lunch consisted of a baloney sandwich, juice and a soda. There were a lot of sandwiches left over so the poorest of the children were selected to take additional food and drinks home with them. Returning to the church, they all raced off the bus to share their experiences with their family. As for our team, with so much walking, standing and climbing stairs, we felt as if we had run a sports camp at the park!
Day 4: Worship and Walking
Because we are staying on the third floor of the church, we couldn’t skip worship services even if we wanted to! Children began arriving for Sunday School almost as soon as we finished breakfast. We had no responsibilities for teaching, but observed the classes. Two teachers conducted lessons in the multipurpose room for elementary and middle school aged children while the preschool class met upstairs in chairs intended for adults. Their little legs hung loosely over the edges dangling without touching the floor. Yet, all the children despite many distractions paid attention to their teachers and participated in the discussion. We who come from a church where children must be entertained with video driven Bible stories and a variety of crafts and games, were very impressed. With the children and the teachers! After Sunday School, we went to church where the service was very much like ours with a praise team, song lyrics projected on a screen and preaching. It was so touching to know that every bit of the service, music and preaching, was transmitted through the open doors and windows of the church into the neighborhood. How can you walk right past the needy on your way home from church without extending a helping hand when the pastor just told everyone inside and out of the church what it means to be a true Christian? When they know that you have been challenged to love and serve like Christ did? How can you sing and proclaim “God loves me” and not look your neighbor in the eye and say, God loves you, too, when they can hear every note? After church, lunch was served to 48 people, our team, church staff, music team and those who were staying for leadership training and youth ministry. My second session, on giving your testimony and doing oral history interviews went well and I sent them home to prepare a story of their choosing to the group tomorrow night. After our jobs were done, we went for a walk in Havana. We had already walked all the way to the harbor to see the sunset and the fort the night before, so opted to go another direction and ended up in China Town for an eye opening look into where the poor live. We made a quick exodus to the main plaza and a check to see if the bakery had any pastries (they did not due to a broken oven), but there was still a line for coffee and ice cream. We decided not to wait. One thing we have noticed in Havana is that Cubans are used to standing in line. There are lines everywhere, at the restaurants, banks, stores, even the bakeries. We Americans, however, turn down a three hour wait for dinner and two hour line at the bank. Instead, we were back safe and snug on our third floor suite before the sun went down where we told stories and shared laughter until time for bed.
Day 5: Time to work
Cuba is in the same time zone as Florida. It is only 38 minutes from Miami. But, it is an entirely different world. And not only different because of the antique buildings and cars, language or culture. There is a different way of thinking in Cuba. We called it living on Cuba time. It is an attitude of “when it gets done it will get done. If it takes all day, it takes all day. If we don’t do it today, we’ll try again tomorrow.” That is a hard attitude for an American to embrace. Most days, we had nothing that had to be done until 4:30 when the children arrived after school. Then, we went into full-fledged manic mode as we helped with crafts told Bible Stories and played games. So, when we planned our trip to Cuba, we asked for a list of maintenance projects to complete while there. We wanted to make the most of our time and many of us have travelled to Guatemala and are used to working long days at the Malnutrition Center. However, Cuba was a different story. After the children’s programs in the late afternoon, at it would be time for dinner, then, leadership training. While we made Plan A and even, Plan B, in Cuba, there is Plan C: Plan Cuba. Usually Plan Cuba is nothing we thought would happen and happens at a much slower pace than anything we want or imagine. The plan, our plan, was to do some painting at the church. We were supposed to paint the meeting/dining space and church. We brought rollers and paint brushes, but on Friday, there was no paint. On Saturday, there was no paint. Finally, on Monday, the paint arrived. But, it was the wrong color. A bright blue instead of the white that they asked for. After a few hours, the right paint arrived. But, there were no drop cloths so only a few people could paint at one time. So, the rest of us did some cleaning, washing windows, scrubbing windowsills and fans, sweeping and other routine tasks before going upstairs to prepare the gifts for the children. I had to clean in my pajamas because I didn’t have old clothes to work in. Besides, the door to our bathroom got locked the night before. There was no one to unlock it until the next morning, so we went all night without access to a shower. We could use the toilet and sink across the hall, but we went to bed dirty and I didn’t want to put on clean clothes. Everyone thought I looked ridiculous, but hey, what happens in Cuba stays in Cuba. Unless I decide to tell on myself! Anyway, we soon learned that there is Cuban time and American time. I think we astounded our Cuban friends by how quickly we worked and how much we got accomplished. And we learned that no amount of pushing or pouting will make things happen any sooner than it happens.
Day 6: Day of surprises
Our last day in Cuba arrived and because we didn’t have work to do in the morning or Leadership training in the evening, the only thing on our agenda was our time with the children from 4:30 until 7:00. In the morning, we headed out early (no, Cuba time for us) to get to the market and do some shopping and then, sightseeing. We finally got our money transferred into Cuban C.U.’s and started out in the shop of one of the church members. Right next door was a market we had visited earlier in the week, and I wanted to buy some things there so while the rest of the team went into the first shop, I did some sniper shopping in the market. I managed to spend almost all my money in about 15 minutes. We had not brought much money with us thinking that in a land where the people live under rationing and imports are tightly controlled, that there would be nothing to buy. But, the Cuban people are resourceful, making beautiful arts and crafts with little or recycled materials. I rejoined our group with a shopping bag full of reasonably priced items to give as gifts or to keep for myself. From that market, we took bicycle taxis to another larger market. The taxis were seats added to the back of three wheeled bicycles. The market was so far away, we were glad to have another mode of transportation than walking. The second market had more touristy things so I was glad I had spent my wad of cash in the first artisan market, until we got to the art section where hundreds and hundreds of beautiful paintings were for sale. All of them would have been a lovely addition to any home and a reminder of Cuba. I was particularly intrigued with one of a little girl that looked like one of the girls in the church. Unfortunately, even at its low price, I didn’t have enough to buy it so could only look and admire. Perhaps another trip to Cuba is in my future. I don’t know. If I do go again, I will take more money! We took horse drawn carriages back to the center of town, then, walked back to the church stopping in a grocery store where we saw shelves empty of life’s basic necessities. Cubans receive ration coupons to buy food and other items, but they stand in line for a long time to get them and sometimes, supplies run out. In the afternoon, we rested and cleaned more windows until the children arrived. Before they left, we distributed the shoes that we had brought. What a madhouse! After they left, Howie announced we should eat dinner quickly as he had a surprise for us. That surprise turned out to be a tour of the city in 1950s convertibles. A 55 Pontiac and 52 and 58 Chevrolets. We rode to the old fort on the top of a hill on the other side of the harbor where we saw a reenactment of the nightly closing of the fort’s gates. It was a grand adventure and we were all smiling giant smiles the entire time. What a way to end our stay in Havana!
Home Again:
Slept twelve hours last night and woke up refreshed and thinking of our Cuban brothers and sisters in Christ. I missed my glass of fresh pineapple juice, but settled for a smoothie of pineapple, kale, banana and strawberries. As I emptied the dishwasher that still held the dishes I had washed more than a week ago, I was tempted to grumble until I remembered Anna and the kitchen crew who washed dishes by hand after each meal. Some of those meals served more than fifty people. I gathered up all the trash and recycling that had accumulated while I was gone and though about the piles of garbage beside the streets of Havana. I washed several loads of clothes and remembered Mary who washed our sheets and towels by hand and hung them on a line to dry. I got in my relatively new car that started as soon as I turned the key and steered so easily down the road and thought about all those beautiful but antique cars still on the streets in Havana. I noticed the gas stations with gas for sale for $2.19 and remembered that gas is more than $4.00 per gallon in Cuba. I went to the doctor for my allergy shots and remembered what one woman whispered to me, “Don’t get sick in Cuba.” I stopped by the grocery store and just soaked in the variety and quantity of products. I thought about the empty shelves at the grocery store and the two block line to pick up rations. Then, I went to the pet store for dog food and recalled the thin, emaciated dogs roaming the streets of Havana. And I knew we were very blessed. But, I still missed the city and the people of Havana.
Leave a Reply