A Beach Called Jibacoa

I am still finding it vaguely impossible that Cubano's have such little or almost no regard for littering. It's as if there is absolutely nothing wrong with throwing rubbish on the floor, anything, anytime, anywhere. Even when one talk about it, there is a sense that the other person thinks I'm completely mad. I still find myself continuing to collect rubbish, even here in Playa Jibacoa, where my tent is 40 metres from the shoreline of an intimate, immaculately small bay. As soon as I have picked up a packet or a bottle, another takes its place. I met an ex Russian, now Canadian, who reckons it's because the people have no ownership of the land so it's not in their interest to be proactive in the tidiness of it. An interesting perspective, and he went on to say it was the same in the Soviet Union, prior to the collapse of their Communist system. The place otherwise is nice and I have relocated those amazing, charming, friendly, warm locals I remember from the start of my journey. The main manager here has shared his rum with me, his pork scratching snacks and his plate of lunch food. I pretend I am not thirsty or that hungry, so I take only a fraction of what I would like, as not to be impolite, take some, but also know that poverty and not having is a real thing here. Yet, still they share unselfishly. People have shown that those with little or nothing are always the most generous in sharing what little they have with other unfortunates. I love that. I have been told that real literary masterpieces are well paragraphed, and my work is not, not that adding many paragraphs will make it such, but there you go, Mel and Howard. I hope to very much have acclaimed work due to my paragraphing, but somehow fear I may well fall short, regardless of my attempts for literary greatness and accolade going forward. Today there was a function for a group here at the camping area. Like a christmas, end of year function we are accustomed to. Food, music, drinking, etc. Some small differences unfolded. The music is the dominant characteristic. Massive speakers blare out music all day. The women and children (who all arrived in the back of a dump truck) stay near the food and music, whilst the men get busy playing a game of baseball. One swing and a miss you are out, one swing and a hit, and if the 'taco' doesn't go beyond a certain point, you're out. If the 2-3 outfielders catch the ball or have it in their hands before it stops, also out. A 'taco' is used instead of a ball, and it looks like a stopper for a chair or table leg, also made of rubber. They ate pork belly and drank rum and beers, and had a great festive game of baseball, Cubano style. It was great to watch and see how passionate these guys are in general. A great comeraderie envelopes most group events like this. Seldom, or ever, does one witness any aggression, bad sportsmanship or sulky behavior. The kids have their mini game on the side, occasionally aspiring to be like one of the elder baseballers. Yesterday I acquired a great heaped plate of food for dinner which the security guard had made for me, it was absolutely delicious. I swirled it down with a bottle of red wine from San Cristobal, called Soroa, I had found at the on-sight shop, for the equivalent of R35. It was imminently drinkable, and that's exactly what happened. Totally full and grateful, he asked for what amounted to R28, all in. Where have these prices been before, clearly this is a great place to camp...well, perhaps that why it's cheaper? There has been a cold front for the last while, since I left Varadero, actually yesterday I surrendered to a jersey, for one of the few times in a month. Then I remembered someone saying it was winter here. Oh yes, slipped my memory when it hits 30 degrees every day.

The body's outer layer has recovered somewhat. Fewer areas feel like they may just peel away and fall off myself, and the nose also feels somewhat repaired and less scaly. I was like some desperate Vatican repair artist, trying to restore a fresco in the days of Michaelangelo. Perhaps the frescoes are slightly more notable, but, I think I was going for the cracked, pieces missing, effect, rather than the subtle beauty, open to interpretation, taste and style. For those of you who have already seen the puppy I had acquired for the day yesterday, how cute is she? I have subsequently discovered she has an owner, so plans to steal her away with me have been scuppered for the time being. She also already has a name, and it's not Che...so that's also on the back burner for a bit. I have finished 'Shadow Of The Silk Road' too, and now feel completely lost without an accompanying book, funny how that worked! Hadn't read for 15 years, read one excellent book, and I have an urge to continue. I guess that is what is meant to occur with good novelists, so I completely understand if you guys refrain from reading this garbage. I will have to seek one out in Havana when I return to meet Eldorette on Wednesday. It is going to be weird having company, I may have even lost the art of tact and diplomacy...oh hang on a minute! Don't get me wrong, to share travel with another is really the way to do it, but I needed to be solo until now, regardless of the hardships. Actually, those are exactly what was required to get the desired results. Perhaps this is why people steer away from this type of travel, because it is hard, in more ways than one. Demons have been vanquished which I thought were under control and much has transpired too, hopefully to put me on a better course all round going forward. It's been hard work, but a choice well made and satisfying. Extremely.

I explained the process of what needs to be done to get onto wi-if here to someone who thought my responses had been, to date, abrupt and lacked the necessary attention to detail, as if I didn't want the company of communication. Somehow? Designated points where one can buy wifi tickets, small kiosks, which service all mobile phone queries too, so always a queue. Then there is a limited amount of one hour cards one can buy, each costing a Dollar. Showing ID is necessary at this point. One then needs to locate a 'wifi zone', which can be anywhere and is usually the size of half a football field in size. Then you must scrape away the user code, like a scratch and win ticket (which takes a special technique, otherwise you scratch the numbers off too, and the card is useless). This card lasts an hour, and is not like fiber-fast by any means. One can use a portion of the allocated time to and the rest is saved, but one needs to log in again. My wifi zone from here is a 6 km journey away, thankfully I have Penny, but still a pain. After the explanation there was an almost embarrassing reply and an accord that the process is a complete schlep. It wasn't that I didn't want to answer with more depth, it's just being part of the system, that doesn't always allow for it, especially when one needs to get a few things done, and the wifi is soooo slow. The backwardness has its own charm, and the customer care and efficiency goes consistently with all other Caribbean experiences I have had to date, with the exception of resorts run and owned by outsiders. It has become expected, and if it started to be regimented in its application, I would probably want it changed to how it is now. It's all perspective and what we allow ourselves to work within. We are often getting so stressed and worked up about very little, and the western culture can actually learn a bit about patience and chilling down a bit. It is what it is...we have it way better than people here, yet they find a way to be happy, I'm sure we can all learn to be a bit more grateful and happy with whatever we currently have, or don't have. I have another bottle of Soroa- vino tinto to accompany me for the remainder of the day and as I sit and write this blog, alongside my tented accommodation, lounging in a Caletas tree branch, like a natural lazy boy, I am content. I feel a deep etched peace within my heart, something which has been missing for sometime. It is doing ok! Life could be worse, life could be far more complicated, life could be elsewhere, thinking about a distant deal, a past escapade of insult or social injury, but it's not, it's here, in this moment, right now...and it's amazing. Contentment is underrated. I'm in the Caribbean after all, how bad can it be?

Everybody dies, not everybody lives. I'll not add some weird thing, just that...after all, it should be enough.