The night at the Police station

Veradero was a tourist only beach with resort after resort blocking the sea from normal cubans.
Rich snot nosed tourists gathered here from all over the world wanting just 1 or 2 weeks of fun and games in the sun. For them, they wouldn´t have known the difference if it was Miami. I hated this but couldn´t complain beacuse I remembered the story this loud Aussie traveller told me. He ended up by him self in Trinidad cuba. He sat down at a table near the bar where another old english guy was sitting close by reading a book. The Aussie guy raised his voice and said "too many tourists have ruined this place." The old English guy raised his head away from the book and said "You are half the problem!" he went back to reading his book.

Daniel, the spanish guy and 2 other travellers from another hostel in havana had joined me on this trip. We got bored of the resort in 5 hours. The other 2 decided to stick with the resort while Daniel and I stepped out at night to find a nice Cuban place. We stopped at the first place that looked tyical of Cuba. Outside bar with live Cuban music and people pouring onto the street dancing salsa blocking traffing into the one way street.

We found a spot close to the small stage standing almost on the street. I could only pick up a few words of the songs but was mesmerised but the music staring at the band members playing different instruments. After a few minutes I realised Daniel wasn´t standing next to me anymore but chatting to an attractive Cuban girl further away. Her friend was standing next to her staring at the band. I waited for Daniel to return but he was completely engrossed in the conversation. The other girl smiled at me. It was an invitation. I looked away back at the band. After a few minutes I thought that Daniel might actually need my help in the form of a distraction for the other girl. So I decided to walk over.

We sat down at a table close to the bar. The girls were paying for their own food and drinks which was reassuring as it could not lead to any wrong sort of transaction. I tried to have a conversation in my broken spanish but Daniel was doing much better since he could speak spanish. 20 minutes later I noticed the police car parked near the bar on the street behind us. I looked at the girls they both looked uncomfortable exchanging glances. Daniel hadn´t noticed this. I knew Cubans weren´t allowed to mix with tourists and saw what was comig next. The girls excused themselves to go to the toilett. 5 minutes later Daniel wondered where they were? I pointed at the police car. The toilet was a dead end. These girls weren´t going anywhere. They returned after another 5 minutes and were escorted to the police car. Daniel followed and I followed him. He tried to talk to the police officers but to no avail. As the car drove away with the girls in the back, I saw the sadness in one of the girls´ face looking straight at me waving her hand in a way that clearly meant "Please help me"! By the time Daniel had finished talking to the security guard and found out where they were being taken, my guilt and sadness were starting to wear off.

Daniel had pulled over a taxi. "Are you coming?" he said. "Er... erm.. yeah OK" I was a reluctant knight in shining armour, "Caballero" as the cabi called us after hearing the story. With Daniel´s perfect spanish he was able to enquire about the whereabouts of the girls from the only officer present in that police station 2 in the morning. he explained that these girls were just talking to us and having a drink. Another officer appeared out of a dark hallway fixing his trousers, buckling his belt and looking sleepy. For a brief moment I wondered if that girl was in that room. The other officer disappeared to the back of the hallway after telling us to wait. He returned 15 minutes later with two sheets of paper which turned out to be criminal records. The photos were blurry and I can´t honestly say it was them but what choice did we have but to say thank you and leave. What astonished me was that at no point the police officers asked us for names or identification. They will treat their own citizens like animals but will not touch tourists.

These girls earned $10 month from there day job but they were both really attractive. A rich old tourist staying in the resort across the street paying $200 a night for a room could shower them with more money in one night than they would earn in 2 years. I felt sad in the taxi back remebering the sad look in that girl´s face and wondering about her fate. Daniel remained quiet on the way back and was probably thinking the same thing.

Sweaty Salsa

The old lady that turned up at the hostel offering salsa lessons for $10 an hour, ran that school with a young guy who was a professional dancer. She must also have been one in her day. She was nice and I agreed to turn up for my first lesson next morning.

I roamed the streets that night with other travellers cuban style. Most young people end up at the Malecon which is a long harbour in Havana. They drink cheap rum out of cartons similar to juice cartons. Talking with young Cubans you find out the reality of Cuban life. They live on national wage of $10 a month. $20 if they are engineers and doctors. I kept hearing this same phrase word for word from many cubans. "Every cuban family has a way to get money". It turns out most cuban families have at least 1 or 2 members that escape abroad and work and send money home. Many cuban families have members that work in the tourist industry and that means dollars. This explains how many of them are wearing addidas trainers and shiny t-shirts: yes! gold and silver colour painted t-shirts. All cuban guys wear them. I have to get one.

After a late night and sleeping late the next morning I was running late for my salsa lesson. I brushed my teeth and skipped the shower. The old lady wouldn´t mind. It was 30c and I was already sweating on the walk over to the school. Daniel, a spanish traveller from another hostel had also joined me to learn salsa. She greated me at the door. "Buenos dias! Como estas Asad!"
"Muy bien. Y tu?
"Muy bien. Ven."
I walked into this hall following her. It was an old spanish colonial house owned by an old spanish lady. From the corner of my eye I noticed a female figure outside leaning over the balcony looking at the traffic down below in the street. From what I could see she had the physique of a dancer. An attractive dancer.
"Jessica." The old lady called out.
The girl at the balcony turned away from the street and walked slowly into the hallway, gradually building up a smile to greet me. Like all men I was quickly trying to compare her in my head to all the other beautiful women I had met in my life and place her somwhere on the top 10 list. I had a number in mind.
"Jessica will be your dance partner today Asad and Daniel I will dance with you."
shit! shit! should´ve taken a shower.
Danielle and I both exchanged looks knowing exactly what the other was thinking.
Jessica walked towards me as I wiped the sweat of my bald head with my left hand and reached out with my right to shake hers forgetting completely the standard greeting between a man and a woman in Cuba. She didn´t forget. She grabbed my hand, pulled herself towards me to close the gap and kissed me on the cheek.
The old lady turned the music on as Jessica turned away to prepare. I descreetly raised my arm to smell the damage I was about to do and wiped the sweat off my head once more. Jessica had obviously noticed and turned both the pedastal fans to full power pointing them at me. For the next hour I stumbled across the dance floor stepping on her feet as often as I could, wiping the sweat off my head all the time.
As I was sweating away like somy body had turned a fire hydrant loose on my head, jessica said to me, "you have to hold my back hard and lead me like a sheep"
Easy for you to say love!
It wasn´t graceful!
I cut my 3 hour lesson short to 1 hour making all sorts of excuses. I returned the next day showered and bathed in 15ml of Georgio Armani.

Both Jessica and the young guy who ran the school were professional dancers and danced at the world famous Tropicana Club Havana. During one of the breaks the guy went into a political debate. He said most young people support the revolution and remain defiant against American imperialism. But its the control of the Castro govenment over its people that they can not stand. He said he can not run a school because the government would want control over it and that he wouldn´t be free to try out new things thus hindering progress and innovation. My salsa lessons were unofficial. If the police asked, I was to say we are just friends having a party.

Communism in Cuba is close to the end.