Open letter to Pete the Nova Student

July 28th, 2009

Dear Pete,

Out of all the students who, um, "backed out" of this trip to Cuba, your reason resonated with me the strongest: not wanting to fly for its impact on global warming. I wish more people put one and one together (specifically, realize the impact of air travel -if not the rest of our activity- on the environment). So I appreciate your logic for staying in Seattle.

If you do decide to venture out of the world, not only is the Pastors for Peace caravan to Cuba one of the Greenest ways to travel (school buses across the country, using biodiesel when available, all the way to the Mexican coast; the only flight a short two hours to an island. Until that blockade is lifted the ferry resumes to Miami, it's the only way to get to Cuba) but the entire island is a lesson on sustainable development: from the utter dearth of plastic (not complete, but practically speaking very rare, limited to coffee cups (!) and shopping bags, both reused until nothing but threads) to the country-wide locally grown produce. Today we talked to some farmers, the entire road here is surrounded by small pastures. They use oxen power to plow their fields! Talk about holy cows! (pardon the pun). Pesticides are limited to tobacco sowing (alas, I didn't get details on that, as I thought Cuba was 100% pesticide-free. It must just be "mostly" pesticide free) and they rotate crops to keep nutrients in the fields. I know some of the staples are imported (especially rice; rice growers are some of the most eager of US companies that want to do business with Cuba) but all this fresh fruit, sweet potatoes, and free range chicken and pork (thankfully, they do the slaughtering behind the camp here). It's an environmentalist's paradise. And the president yesterday, as I mentioned, laid out new measures to increase productivity and decrease imports all with the goal of sustainability.

Can you image our president doing that? Even Obama?

So, Pete, I appreciate your sentiments and wrestle with them too. I'm kicking myself for not taking the caravan from day one and flying down to meet them for the last leg. I'll be kicking myself for flying back, but the Sounders game against Barcelona is my excuse. I just pray that I don't fly to Montana to visit relatives, or fly any other time for that matter...

Hasta La Victoria, Baby

Chris

Open letter to Paul Bardis

July 28th, 2009

Hello Paul and greetings from Puerto Esperanza, Cuba.

I'm staying out a simple camp surrounded by farms and tobacco fields. Behind the dorm, horse and goats graze, while chickens entertain foreigners with their chickenish antics. In the distance, steep green limestone pinnacles jut out of the ground. In the afternoon they breed dark storm clouds that wash away the heat, but it's sunset now so they just look hazy.

I read "Three Cups of Tea" until it got too dark, so I thought I'd write you.

How are you? How's Lucy? And the kids?

Once again I'm in Cuba and as always, I wonder why/how you haven't gotten hear yet. Cuba is a sustainability guy's dream. The lack of plastic, billboards and pesticides is like a godsend. It's inspiring. It's great. You should come.

If you're actually reading this, you know it's on my blog, and I haven't described this place so I thought I'd use your letter as an excuse to do so.

We're stay at the church yard of "El Pesebre" (the manager) a pentacostal church in the middle of farms and fields. The church includes two thatched-roofed dormatories, a dining room/kitchen, and couple gazebos. It's the perfect place for environmentally-minded lefty activists from Pastors for Peace to stay: comfy enough in its basic accommodation -a fan in every room, consistant electricity, and running water at least three times a day- without overdoing it in a touristy sort of way. I guess you could say this is "real Cuba"

(years ago when I was here, I tried staying in an idenctical place, called "campismo" in cubano, in Matanzas. A friend and I hitchhiked to a deserted peninsula hosting a lighthouse and some cement bunaglos. They would have been abandoned if not for the full staff who worked there. "BYO" was extended to everything: food, bed sheets, lighting, electricity, water. We stayed outside until dark, learning about the Cuba version of "noseeums" -tiny flies that resemble and move like spects of dust, but leave deep stingy bites that itch for days. We tried sleeping on foam mattresses while swatting at mosquitoes. It was a long night.

With that adventure in mind, you could say things have improved drastically.

The buildings are freshly painted and the roof looks new; I think it was ripped off during last year's hurricanes, but I've yet to ask. They've learned to include sheets with their bedding, but towels too!

It's idle. Idlististic. Whatever that word. It's really cool. You'd like it.

ANYway, there's a concert going on tonight. My girlfriend Briana and our new friend and fellow caravanista Farrin are looking over my shoulder right now as I write. I'm almost annoyed. I wanted to write more about this, but then again I have a whole blog, so you should read that for details.

I should be back in early August, and as soon as that Sounders/Barcelona game is over, I hope to head out to Missoula. I hope you'll still be there. Any chance you'd want to take a day trip up to Kalispell to pick me up from the train? I think I'm traveling from train from here on out, flying is just to damning.

Ok, gotta run. Hope to see you soon,

Yer Fiend,

Chris

Pastors for Peace in the NY Times!

Big article today in the NY Times about Pastors for Peace and Venceremos Brigade challenging the travel ban. Somewhere out there is my horrible, hurried interview with Telemundo, too. If anyone has time to search for it, let me know!

Open Letter to Craig McDonald

July 27th, 2009

Dear Cousin Craig,

Greetings from Cuba, yet again. I know you don't read my blog, surf the net, or even email, but I thought I'd write you an open letter on my blog anyway. You came to mind today when we toured areas devastated last year by hurricanes Gustav and Ike. I remember after Katrina, you confessed: “I consider myself a conservative Republican, but after this, I've lost all respect for Bush.” The testimonies today to Cuba's reaction (and preparation) to hurricanes might even turn your Republican Red to Commie Pink. There's still evidence that two category-four hurricanes past over this area less than a year ago, but there's more evidence of recovery: new roofs, reinforced walls, freshly planted crops. They say 70% of the houses in this municipality were damaged, a third lost their roof completely. Half of them have been completely repaired already. This is a stark contrast to accounts from folks on the caravan from the Gulf Coast and stories of government inepitude, indifference, incompetincy, or even some sort of conspiracy to wash away all the poor from New Orleans. It's frustrating at the least, more often than not infuriating.

ANYway, we're visiting a fishing coop soon and I have to move on with my blog. I hope you're doing well and hope you can make it to Seattle soon, if not next year's caravan.

In addition to your five, give my love to the little lady, your mother, and siblings. I hope to hear from you when we get back to the US.

Love,

Yer Cuz

REPORT FROM THE CELEBRATIONS OF THE 26TH OF JULY, HOLGUIN, CUBA

The Rev. Lucius Walker was invited to Holguin to attend the official national celebration of the 26th of July, the day that Fidel and company unsuccessfully attacked the Moncada Barracks in Santiago de Cuba, the defacto start of the revolution. The key theme of President Raul Castro's address was sustainability. I don't know if he said that exact word, but all the language -increasing arable land, augmenting land distribution, building more damns for irrigation, all under the goal of increasing food production and decrease food imports- point to the definition. The writing is on the wall and the President of Cuba can read it: the global food crisis is on the way and unlike other countries I've been to this month, Cuba ain't gonna wait until it's too late.

Skeptics take note.

Afterwards, Rev Lu reported that he flew back to Havana with Raul, allowing a deep and thorough conversation about US-Cuba affairs. To quote the reverend, Obama's a good guy, but is surrounding himself with old guard right wingers when it comes to Cuba (as well as other areas of campaign promises). That and with Hillary Clinton as Secretary of State -whose husband was arguably second only Bush in terms of worst policies towards Cuba- Change™ ain't going to come any time soon.

Sadly, this isn't surprising.

More interesting was the recall of the conversation regarding the first phase of US-Cuba dialogue which took place earlier this month. The Cubans have much to discuss: the Cuban Five, Guantanamo, cooperation on battling drug traffickers, increased trade (importing and exporting), etc etc. The US wanted to talk about one thing: immigration. The US didn't even want to discuss the aspect of immigration most concerning to Cuba: the increase in high-powered speed boats -faster than anything in the Cuban navy- whizzing down from Florida to pick people up and take them back to Miami. The US was very unprepared for the dialogue, and indication of the administrations regard for the dialogue itself.

This isn't surprising either.

July 26th, 2009

It's my cousin Lisa's one-year wedding anniversary, on her father's birthday. It's also the anniversary of Fidel's futile attack on the Moncada barrack's, signaling the defacto beginning of the Cuban Revolution.

Greetings from Puerto Esperanza, in the northern coast of the municipality of Vinales, Pinar del Rio province, effectively the middle of nowhere on the western tip of the island

Once again, Briana whoops my ass. We take off for a morning walk two km to the waterfront, opting to skip lunch and just meet everyone else there. About half way there, I realized the futility of the walk; we'd miss lunch, too, a meal that would be very difficult to replace; and it's hot out and my ankle aches and ok, I'm just a wimp. I turned around and came back.

In Cuba you don't extend yourself more than necessary. A long hot walk in the sun is never worth it.

Anyway, I'm semi-exhausted from just a 30 minute walk and have come back to recover.

We're staying at a tropical countryside church, Pentecostal, I believe, on the fertile slopes that lead from the limestone pinnacles that define Pinar del Rio to the ocean.

It's a quiet, picturesque countryside. Freshly painted thatch-roofed bungalows spot the road guarded by cactus fences blooming long yellow flowers. The fields alternate liberally from corn, squash, indigenous tubers/sweet potato, tobacco. The locals are friendly. Campesinos, leathery faces cut with deep wrinkles, ride horse and buggy up and down the street. Vehicles are rare, in our stroll I saw one '52 buick, one ageless Lada, three Japanese minivans, two socialist-block army trucks, and a Russian-made motorcycle with side car (everyone wearing helmets except the three-year old girl, leaning forward on her mother's lap into the wind like the crest of a ship).

It's a stark contrast to last summer in Guatemala. The scene is nearly identical, except in Guate we lodged a four thousand feet surrounded by coffee under smoldering volcanoes. But there the people lived in fear, struggling for the most basic of necessities. Food is expensive, water undrinkable, and fuel gathered in a weekly three-hour trek through the mountains. Unemployment is 80%, as is illiteracy, and most local children could afford school. There were five doctors in a department of several hundred square miles and a population of 30,000 people. You couldn't go out at night, as the combination of alcohol, poverty, depression and machetes was often lethal.

Some times I get cynical and critical, suspicious even. But there is very little dogma and no propaganda shoved in our faces. To paraphrase the scripture that capture's the mission of Pastors for Peace, “propaganda” is not the words said, but the deeds and truth before our eyes. Yesterday in the capital of Pinar, at a meeting with the local officials, I dreaded another event of endless speeches. They cut to the chase, though, an summarized the devastation of the two hurricanes that passed through this part of the country last summer. Hurricane Gustavo made it's path uniquely through Pinar on August 30th, culminating with winds too strong to record (the speedometer topped out at 340km/hr). Nine days later, Ike spent three days meandering across the whole country; the point where the two crossed lies little more than 15km from here.

But what really hit me was the counterpoint from some caravanistas from New Orleans and Houston, who testified about the response in the US to Katrina. The contrast, to say the least, is depressing. While most of the 9th Ward has sat for five years in neglect, I haven't seen any evidence of a category 4 hurricane passing through here. All the roofs are new replacements and houses freshly painted; crops have returned; life goes on. 173,000 people (out a provincial population of 700,000) were evacuated; no one died; the start of the school year was delayed 15 days.

Meanwhile, in New Orleans...

Some propaganda you got going there, Uncle Sam!

July 25th, 2009

Marianao, Havana, Cuba
Day 2

It's ridiculous of me to attempt to take a pulse of the country after three days, but I do it anyway.
So far, this is what I've noticed: there's more paint, fewer houses lie decrepit and crumbing; there are more vehicles, especially motorcycles; the major intersections in Vedado have those countdown timer thingys that tell pedestrians how much time they have to cross the road.
There are more and newer signs on the street. Lunch at the Cuban Institute of Friendship with the Peoples served us to-go dinners in imported styrofoam boxes, not indigenous, biodegradable cardboard.
The Vice director of US and Canadian affairs of the Cuban Interest Section in Washington DC proclaimed that “Cuba would love to have Walmarts”.

Things seem much better that when I was here two years ago, even if I spent the entire week in a bungalow in Marianao, never venturing far.