Badda Bing

We decide to celebrate our new found freedom by renting a car, and going into a small local town called Moron. It has a different meaning in Spanish.

When I say local, I really mean a 2 hour ride, which the workers at the hotel take every day, twice a day, because in Cuba, working in hospitality is where the money is at. A mechanical engineer, with the very same job as my father, tells us, as he fills in our car rental forms, and shuttles us from the marina to the car we are going to rent, that he makes 10 times more money in this pitiful job that in his old job as an engineer.

We are stopped at a check point, and searched by a man and his dog.

We get into Moron, and arrange a Casa Particular. This is a private home in which a room is rented. The guy we are staying with is Carlos, and he looks just like a mafioso - walks around with no shirt in shorts, hairy back, big gold chain round his neck. I talk to him about Castro, and the Economy. Dad walks in. The guy smiles at dad and shrugs his shoulders, as if to say "hey, mr, your kid is busting my balls, but whaddaya gonna do!".

We wander around the town. Movies are 10 NZ cents. An icecream is 10 NZ cents. It's not all bad, this communis jaunt.

We catch a bicycle taxi for a tour round the town. The bicycle and carriage are old, but still have a sweet sound system. The guy sweats profusely. It's always about 30 degrees.

We check out an indigenous art exhibition. It is so sad, all these people, with their ways and lives, their families, all wiped out by some asshole who saw them as animals, as creatures to be subjugated as slaves, much like a cow, or an ox. Read up on Columbus, the guy was a hell of a asshole. His real name is Cristobal Colon. The whole carribean history, no matter what island goes like this:

1. Columbus arrives, and exclaims its the most beautiful place he has ever seen

2. He immediately enslaves the local indigenous people

3. The indigenous people die from disease, murder and overwork

4. Many black slaves are brought in from Africa

5. Heaps of tourists come and drink cocktails.


We go back to the house. Carlos tells me about Cuba. Carlos is well off, but he still likes Castro, and thinks he is a great man.