Cuba 古巴 4/2015 (2)

14-18/4/2015. Cuba was the American playground decades ago. Then everything changed. Since the revolution in 1959, the country has been a constant thorn in the flesh of the people up north. In fact, a nuclear confrontation resulted when this little boy threatened to aim his loaded nuclear catapults north, and the big brother did not like it. The more intrigue, the more excited I became.

After checking into my room in Havana, I took a stroll along the seafront and immediately bumped into a Beijing girl I met earlier at the airport. She was already well and truly into Cuba. A smallish and slender girl with a fat Cuban cigar in her mouth, puffing smoke and mingling freely with the locals, she created quite a sight. She offered me a cigar, which I declined; I’d never quite acquired the taste of the smoked vegetable.

The next day, I set about trying to find Wi.Fi. I was told the internet was not available to the general public and was only available in a couple of designated locations in town. When I finally found it in a big hotel downtown and tried to access a U.S. platform, I was unceremoniously dumped out of the site. I felt the wrath of the United States. It reminded me loud and clear that this was a heavily sanctioned country. To restore my account, I had to call the U.S. directly after I exited the country. That was no trivial matter.

At the Wi-Fi location, I met a young American couple. We teamed up and hired a classic convertible to take us out of town on a day trip. The driver and his companion turned up in the morning as agreed, but lo, it was a barbie pink open-top convertible, big and loud, a beauty and a beast. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be seen in a barbie car, but it would be fun to tickle the good people of Cuba. We did not go far, not even out of the city, before the police stopped us. It seemed that this bombshell, while sexy, was too loud for the quiet people of Cuba. They then let us go with a warning. Everywhere we stopped, tourist admirers surrounded the car, eyes bloodshot with envy. They looked at their own dull and boring tour buses, all covered up, then at our sexy, topless, pink of a beauty, their downcast eyes pining for the love they never had. Three of us rode at the back, two American gringos and a dopy Chinese-looking guy parading themselves on Cuban roads, in itself a spectacle, the breeze rushing against our faces, the passing rustic scenery, the head-turning and giggling, the thunderous engine noise, the refreshing thick fumes and diesel smells that billowed behind us. What a blast of a day. What a blast from the past!

This young American couple was very nice, humble folks from the Californian side. The young man, one of those most affable Americans I have come across, told me he was a helper in an orchard, selling produce and not making much. But he had a dream. After this trip, he said sheepishly; he planned to diversify into cannabis, and almost implored that I did not think ill of him, as if to ask for my forgiveness. Why should I? Many of their Presidents have smoked weed, including George Washington, George Bush, JF Kennedy, Obama, and Clinton (although he claims he never inhales). Their country looks fine to me. Some of these guys carried the nuclear button in their briefcase. In fact, as we speak, the United States is legalizing this stuff left, right, and center, and all over the country. When they couldn’t beat them, they joined them. Meantime, where I come from in Asia, you could be hung for this kind of stuff. One man’s poison is another man’s meat.

Cuba was a place of past glories. Americans came here to have a good time, and a lot of old, classic American cars still roam the streets, aging gracefully. In most cases, the cars were older than the drivers. It was a wonder they were still running. This was the place on Earth to see clunky cars dating back to the early 20th century. I also noticed, and marvelled at the many old buildings that were so dilapidated and in such disrepair that the bricks, the tiles, and the concrete were barely hanging in there. I wondered how long they could stand before crumbling into a heap.

My accommodation here was a private home and came with a toilet—a toilet bowl, but not the seat. I didn’t know if they could not afford it, could not find the parts, or that was the unique way they use it here—to sit, to squat, or to hover over it. That was the question. A good introduction to Cuba.

One day, my Cuban host told me her non-English-speaking neighbor was looking for me. The only Cuban I was somewhat familiar with at that point was a guy called Fidel. So, I was naturally apprehensive. She did her best with the charade, subtitling it with her broken English, but I still could not decipher her message. The second day, she caught hold of me, then hurried to the neighbor to fetch her. Eventually, I got it—her neighbor wanted me to be her boyfriend. I stammered and bumbled along, blushing like an overripe tomato, politely declining the flattery. Poverty could drive people into desperation. Okay, maybe I did not give myself enough credit—I still looked sufficiently exotic and mildly attractive back then, if you looked at me from the right angle and given the right lighting.

In the evening, I again teamed up with the young American couple to go to a dance hall called La Casa de Musica to see the locals dance. Despite the sanction and poverty, the fun-loving nature of the Cubans had not been totally suppressed. They are such natural and flamboyant dancers, born to revel. Fate could be so blind and cruel. If you take a turn on the right, you may be right, a left turn, your fate may turn out quite different. Such is our fate.

14-18/4/2015 古巴曾是美国人寻欢作乐的后院。后来一场巨变，一切天翻地覆，从此两国势不两立，直到今日，不再往来。这世界几十年前一度差点陷入核战，因为北方的老大不喜欢在南边的小弟威胁将满载核弹的弹弓瞄向老大额头。所以我对古巴充满好奇。

到了哈瓦那，入住民宿后我急不及待就到家门前海滨区溜达，先闻闻古巴海风，意外第一眼又碰到先前在机场见过面的北京女孩。她很快进入古巴状态了，瘦小身躯嘴里悬着根粗大雪茄，喷着浓烟，已经跟当地古巴人打成一片了，很欣赏她北方豪爽性格。她把一根递给我，但我谢绝了，遗憾还没会欣赏熏草味道。

第二天我到处询问哪里可无线上网，被告知这城市只有两三个指定地点可上。我找到其中一个酒店，买了充值卡，终于跟世界联系上了。当我尝试登入一个美国平台时即刻给炸了出来，好像给挂了巴掌。离开古巴后要重新使用这平台还得向平台美国总公司费口舌解释情况。这制裁可不是空穴来风的。

上网时认识一对年轻美国情侣，就相约租辆敞篷车到哈瓦那外一日游。第二早，司机和他朋友按时出现，一看，是辆粉红的经典老车，又大又噪，是个性感尤物。我不想别人看到我堂堂男子汉坐上这粉红芭比车，但最后还是觉得逗逗古巴老百姓还是挺乐的。没跑多远，还没离开哈瓦那就被交警拦下，被告知这车虽然性感，但是老百姓会觉得噪音太炸了。最后还是放了我们一马。所到之处都有围观的游客，羡慕又嫉妒的眼光，一看自己做的大客包得紧紧的车身，反观我们的，性感线条，半裸的上身，粉光若腻肤色，唤起他们几十年前年轻时未遂爱情。我们三位，两个老美和一个华人悠悠自在坐在后座, 享受风驰电挚刺激，冲面凉风和顺风的散发，迎面而来的景色，回头的旁人，炸爆的引擎声，身后升来的乌烟油味，享尽了古巴风味，超爽的一天。

这两位相识的美国年轻人很朴实，是我见过其中一个最好相处的美国人。他在农场卖农产品，收入不多，但打算此行后改行。他低声说，打算回去后种植大麻增加收入，希望我不会对他失望，好像向神父忏悔。我有何理失望，历届美国多位总统不是也吸过大麻吗，包括华盛顿，奥巴马，肯尼迪，布斯，克林顿（虽然他自辩只挂嘴上但没吸入）？这些一国之君还随身带着核弹按钮，飘飘欲仙后幻觉中会不会把按钮当游戏机打啊？他们中多位被公认为伟大总统，而美国至今还是长盛不衰的霸主。且美国多州正如火如荼合法化大麻行业。置身美国大麻这料他该司空见惯，但他还是有点自责，可见他没麻木。虽只是半面之交，在我脑里留下深刻印象。

这是个昔日红火的地方，大家，尤其是老美，都蜂拥到此欢乐。街上经典美国老车随处可见，这些大车可是二十世纪初已亮相，往往车龄远超司机年龄，几十年后还在街上招摇过市，卖弄风骚，虽已老态毕露，仍然韵味十足，抢尽镜头，使人刮目相看。这里还有许多历尽沧桑的老楼，一片片一块块的脱落，使人怜惜，几乎已弱不禁风，眼看似快要塌成一堆了，可能是资金短缺吧。老车还死撑在跑，老楼可能连站都站不住了。

我民宿带厕带马桶但不带座圈，马桶没座圈怎么用？是买不到配件，没钱买座圈，还是他们就是这样用的？是该坐，该蹲还是在半空盘旋，我在厕所徘徊一阵，至今不得其解。这也是古巴写照。

有一天在外回来后房东转告知邻居找我。初次到古巴，人地生疏，至今我唯一能指名道姓的古巴人叫菲德尔卡斯特罗, 听到有人找当然心有不安。她叽里咕噜解释一下，我还是抓不着头脑。第二天，趁我在家，她赶紧把邻居找来，邻居不会英语，经她指手画脚翻译后才知道邻居要找我做她男朋友。我受宠若惊，脸色变得通红，甜在心里，但还是鼓起勇气谢绝了她的爱意。从今以后我信心大增，脸皮增厚，自恋更一发不可收拾。多年后还是难于忘怀，惋惜她们被逆境逼得走投无路，饥不择食，以爱情换面包。

约好这对美国情侣晚上到哈瓦那一家舞厅看古巴人跳舞。虽受制裁，日子并不宽裕，但古巴人骨子里的洒脱性格没完全被压抑。他们生来活泼，懂得享受生活。命运有时是残忍的，往左或往右，行差踏错，命运就截然不同。