Cuba 2015, 02 …. the blog that disappeared!
The Santeria/Babalao is very much a part of Cuba. A combination of African traditions, Yoruba religion, voodoo, and even Catholicism, it is practiced by about 15% of the Cuban population.
One does not suddenly decide to become Santeria. Novates dress in all white for a year and are taught the ways of Santeria by a mentor. Even when they officially become Santeria, and they wear normal clothes, albeit often with some white, they have a mentor “forever.”
On Sundays, there are a couple of masses for the Santeria people, so we take the local, iron, rattle-trap ferry across the harbor to see one. This is not a part of La Habana that sees many tourists, and we are the only outsiders.
One of our participants is not used to photographing people. He has been with us before on a landscape workshop, buy he wants some input.
There are two fishermen at the water’s edge, one with a jig line, the other offering advice … same the world over. It is hot, and they take breaks in the shade by the sea wall. We photograph them, and as is customary when one “works” such a scene to offer a CUC (Cuban currency for foreigners worth about 87 US cents).
We joke with them, observe the patterns of their motion, anticipate what they will do next, and try to capture the moment. Here, one of the fisherman casts his line out into the waters, line spool in one hand, the pastel colors of La Habana across the harbor.
After nearly an hour, it is time for us to move on, so we shake hands and say, “Muchas gracias,” (Many thanks).
Our group wanders the narrow streets, finding various things to photograph, and getting used to a new environment.
It is time for lunch, and we head to Hemingway country, the small village of Cojimar. The restaurant is privately owned, as are an increasing number. The food is fabulous, and the owner is charming. At the end of our meal, all the chefs come out, are introduced, and we give applause for each one.
We wander down by the waterfront and laugh as one of our group disappears into an apartment building. We see him reappear three floors up, the top level, with the two ladies who invited him. Jokingly, we wonder if we will ever see him again, and he confirms what Arnie and I know … the Cubans are very hospitable, and they love “Americanos,” as they call us. I am not sure what they call all the other Americans on our north, central, and south continents!
It is still hot and too early for the Malecón, that famous, seven-to-eight-kilometer-long sea wall that is the gathering place for the people of La Habana. So we visit an area where many of the Santeria live. There is a market in a narrow alley decorated with all sorts of art work and sculptures. The music is lively, and people dance to the intoxicating beat.
I photograph a beautiful woman with thick, black hair. She loves the photo, and I take her address to send it to her. She has her boyfriend take off one of her Rasta necklaces and put it on me. I am very touched, and there are hugs and kisses between two who have made a connection.
Later, I see her and give her some shampoo and soap.
We break up into smaller groups and walk the neighborhood, Arnie with one group and one of our Cuban photographers, our HavanaTur guide with another, and a third group with the other Cuban photographer and me.
I grew up listening to the old Calypso music and love the subtle-but-insistent beat. I feel that beat even before I hear it. I pick up my pace and tell our group why. There is what looks to me like a party, and I stand outside doing the meringue, very similar to their style of dancing. They beckon me in, but it seems more appropriate to stay outside. Our Cuban photographer tells us that this is a private gathering linked to Santeria. No sooner has he said this and that we should not photograph here, than two ancient hands reach out and draw me inside.
May I photograph you … “Photo, por favor?” I ask.
“Si, si!”
That said, it is nearly impossible to photograph while doing the meringue!
Soon another of our group is drawn in, and we are caught up in the joyous festivities.
Leaving is not so easy. After all, we cannot spend our whole afternoon here. We have other places to see and experience. Hugs and kisses and gracias … more hugs and kisses, et cetera. Finally, we make it back outside.
Well, maybe not. The same old woman drags me back in and puts a red, satin scarf around my shoulders, knotting it tightly in front. She takes my hand, and we do a forward-backward dance.
I must leave. I untie the scarf and return it. I sense something really special has happened. Our HavanaTur guide tells me later that red represents Chango, one of the most important Santeria saints. Chango is the saint of lightning, thunder, drums, and other strong elements of Mother Nature. By putting the scarf on me, the old woman was, our guide thinks, giving me some of Chango’s strength and power. Why me? I have no idea, but our two Cuban photographer guides were amazed. WOW!
It is time to head to the Malecón. The day is cooling down, and the Cuban people will be out.
There is a trombone player practicing his scales … badly … but he makes an excellent and willing subject. Our participants put some coins into his case, as people do the world over for musicians.
I see a stunning Rasta mon on the sea wall, silhouetted against the setting sun. I introduce myself, and he sees my new necklace with the Jamaican colors. He admires it, and I sense he is impressed that I am wearing one. I ask if I might photograph him, and it is fine. I have him turn his head toward the old fort. It will likely end up being one of my favorite photos from this trip. Michael and I talk about sailing and our love of the sea. We speak of other things, too, while others in the group photograph.
Participants come up to Arnie and me for input on this or that image. We push them to go back and make the photograph stronger, and they do, pleased with the improvement.
It is getting late and time to head back for dinner. People splinter off, friendships being made, and we agree to meet at the appointed hour in the morning.
Again typing on the iPad where it is difficult to catch Apple’s “corrections” of this island nation blog …
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Wow! This is sounds like a very exciting and energetic day! Santeria is an interesting mix of cultures; and I’ve always been intrigued. I love the silhouette on the Malecon….!!
Benita,
It was an amazing day, for sure. Santeria is, indeed, an interesting mix. As to Michael, he was an interesting man and a great subject. I enjoyed my time with him.
Take care, and again, thanks for commenting,
TBC
Of the six workshops I’ve had with BCPA the trip to Cuba was best by far. It was the cultural experience of a lifetime which will have a life long impact on you. Go with them as soon as you can to see the true Cuba before McDonalds and KFC get there.
Bill,
Thanks so much for the accolades for Cuba. What an amazing place it is, and as one of our “spousal units” said of the modest standards of so many in Cuba, “The children are so happy. If the children are happy, you know the parents cannot be unhappy.”
It was great having you two along.
Take care, and thanks for the comment,
TBC