La Habana

As I waited in Panama for my flight to Havana it occured to me that I didn't really have any clue of what to expect. All I really knew about Cuba was that communism doesn't work, US foreign policy is crap and I like Fidel's beard. Bill had told me some stories to prepare me somewhat for this strange and exotic land, but I had no idea what we were going to do for 2 weeks.

But as long as I could manage to find Bill I knew he'd play tour-guide. He’s spent 1 year out of the last 5 living in Cuba, and I don’t know that there are too many US citizens that can say that. And after a very thorough personal interview and search of everything in my possession the Cuban authorities finally returned my passport and let me proceed out of the airport. It's that combination of having a Muslim name and having travelled through Colombia, I'm sure of it. Sigh, maybe changing my name to Zak Woodridge isn't such a bad idea after all.

The taxi driver actually found the address Bill gave me without any problem. I remembered hearing something about a Bed and Breakfast so when I arrived at a typical dilapidated Cuban household I was a little confused. But sure enough, Bill was there.

Within a few minutes I got the story. We were going to be staying with QueQue and his family, who run an illegal Hotel / Restaurant out of their house. Pretty much anything that might be of use to someone is illegal in Cuba I would soon learn. The room cost $15 a night, two excellent meals and all the coffee you could possibly drink added another $10. Turns out life in Cuba involves a delicate balance of coffee, rum, cigars and dancing.

After spending some time walking the streets, meeting some of Bill's friends and smoking my first Cuban cigar, I asked Bill, "So what are we going to do tonight?" Silly question, the same thing we do every night Pinky, go dancing! Bill, his Cuban girlfriend and the two lovely Australian doctors staying in the casa with us all headed out to the "nice" part of Havana. My salsa skills are non-existent, so this should be interesting.

one...two...three
One...Two...Three
One...Two...THREE
Shake...That...ASS!

Hey, I think I'm getting the hang off this! Between the three excellent teachers and lots of rum I think I managed to not stick out too much. Tomorrow, Bill has dance lessons lined up for me with his favorite teacher. This should be a fun two-weeks!