Category Archives: Baracoa

Happy Birthday, Castro

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Warning: After five years of saratreetravels, be prepared for some sentimentality in the post ahead…

In our other travels, we have always arrived home at the beginning of August in order to allow us ample time to prepare for the beginning of university classes. This inevitably meant that we have spent August 13, our wedding anniversary, not only jet-lagged and rather grouchy at being back home instead of in Argentina/Morocco/Mexico, but for whatever cosmic reason has also always resulted in Josh suffering from some kind of illness. Hypothermia, infected leg wounds, travelers’ diarrhea… August 13 has become invariably linked with quality time in the Emergency Department.

This year, with my classes not starting until the end of August and Josh not having to go back to work until September, we realized that August 13 could actually be celebrated while still in the midst of our travels. And not only that, but only after our trip was already booked and we were beginning to research our first few topics for political analysis did we realize that August 13, 2016 was not merely our 5th wedding anniversary, but was also one Fidel Castro’s 90th birthday**… and we would all be celebrating together in Cuba.

August 13 found us in the beautiful clutches of Baracoa. Having rung in our anniversary by dancing until midnight with some new Baracoeses amigos, the perfect anniversary gift was to spend the next day soaking up the unparalleled lazy majesty of Cuban beaches with (you were warned… excuse me for a moment as emotion takes over!) the unparalleled magic that is the company of my travelling partner, fellow passionate scholar and pragmatic idealist, and most importantly, my very best friend.

Anniversary breakfast
(¡Gracias a la querida Ykira por el desayuno perfecto!)
 
Street party that night for Fidel’s 90th… Or was all of Cuba celebrating with us for our anniversary?? 😉
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Joshua, traveling and marriage bring out both the best and worst in someone. And even after 5 years of both (both traveling and marriage, as well as both the best and the worst!), there is no one else I’d rather have by my side as I continue the adventure of building a meaningful, sustainable, community-centered life.

J+S

Epilogue: After a perfect day at the beach, I was swimming towards shore when a clear-green frond suddenly wrapped beneath my ribs and a million razor blades attacked my stomach. As I un-gracefully hurled myself out of the sea and began panicking onshore from the pain, a couple of helpful Cubanos lounging on the beach nodded knowingly in my direction. “Ah, hay aguas malas,” they stated matter-of-factly. “Medusas.” Jellyfish. I suppose after five years, it was my turn for some anniversary trauma!

Jellybelly

**There couldn’t be a more fitting present than this: This also happens to be the 90th post by saratreetravels!! 😀

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East: Me ripie como un yare*

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*Baracoesa phrase, literally: “I shredded myself like a leaf.” Hard to explain to a non-Cuban, but this is a very colloquial phrase meaning that one enjoyed oneself a lot at a party.

As we groggily stumbled off our night bus, we were slapped by a sensation we hadn’t felt since arriving in Cuba a week earlier: The hint of a breeze. Make no mistake, it was probably still +30°C at 6:30AM, but there was a freshness in the air, the sweetness of ocean salt that soothed our parched lungs. We clambered into the bicitaxi our host had reserved for us and creakily made our way through the sleepy streets of Baracoa.

Baracoa1

Cuba’s capital of cocoa, Baracoa is a misty, beguiling city that meanders along the coast and invites one to slow down, dig your toes into the silky black sand beaches, squint against the sun melting into El Yunque. In other words, the perfect place to calm one’s soul after the exhausting marble brightness of the inexhaustible Santiago.

Beach

El Yunque, “The Anvil,” Baracoa’s ominous landmark mountain, softly looms over the town
El Yunque

Morning breakfasts included not only smoky Cuban coffee, but also cups of pure, rich, silky chocolate. ¡Que paraíso!
Chocolate

Side note: This was Christopher Columbus’ landing point after sailing for months into the inky unknown, and I found it interesting that even at the very cradle of Columbus’ entry to the Americas, it was marked by only one small statue and zero fanfare. And yet it seems an unavoidable topic in the States, cropping up continuously in textbooks, monuments, and even a national holiday. Perhaps more Northern Americans should take their cue from the people living where history actually took place, and realize that this topic does not deserve the relevance it currently enjoys. And now moving on…

Baracoa malecon

Our days in Baracoa took on a lovely languid quality. Only a ten minute walk from our casa was a delicious black sand beach sprawling the entire length of town. If you followed the beach to the tip of accessible land, you reached a turquoise lagoon, on the other side of which we were promised was hiding a tiny white sand beach.
Lagoon

At this point, you had a choice. You could wind your way through the palm woods and eventually come to a bridge of shaky single planks stretching to connect to the outstretched fingertip of the fishing village across the bay. Or, you could strike up a conversation with a fisherman who then offers to row you across the lagoon in his tiny boat.

We opted for the latter.
Friendly rowing fisherman

Playa Blanquita
Blanquita

Since our mysterious fisherman was nowhere to be found on our return trip, we meandered through the village and crossed via the bridge, which was in itself an adventure:
Bridge1

Bridge2-Sara

That evening at dinner, our friendly waiter not only delivered excellent service, but also a proposal: “You can’t get to know Baracoa if you stay in town,” he insisted. “I can get a car and take you into the mountains to see beautiful natural lakes… And La Reina de Cacao.” Now he had our attention. We couldn’t visit Cuba’s cocoa capital without meeting the Queen of Cocoa, could we?

So, bright and early the next morning, we met back at the restaurant and piled into a cab with Félix and Yolis, our newfound Baracoeses tour guides. The day was spent rowing through canyons to discover freshwater pools hidden deep in the mountains, feasting on fresh seafood caught that afternoon by Félix’s buddy, and, yes – visiting La Reina de Cacao in her kingdom.

La Boca de Yumurí: According to historical tradition, the Guamá people jumped off the canyon shouting, “Yo moriré!” (I will die!) rather than succumb to Spanish colonial rule. Centuries later, the canyon and river are still known as “Yumuri” in their honour.
Canyon Yumuri

Swimming at Yumuri

Walking through La Boca

Josh making friends with our lunch
Lobster Josh

Young cocoa plants (looking NOTHING like we had imagined!)
Cocoa

Dissimilar to our familiar brown powdered “cocoa” in every way, cocoa plants contain a white lychee-like jelly surrounding the raw beans
Tasting cocoa

La Reina de Cacao en su reino
Reina de Cacao

When Félix and Yolis realized our fifth wedding anniversary was the next day, they insisted that we ring in the occasion by dancing until midnight. 12:00 found us at La Terraza, Baracoa’s one and only night club, salsa-ing to “Ah-ah-ah-ah… Hasta que se seque el Malecón” (one of Cuba’s five essential songs) and toasting the beginning of five years of marital adventures with Cuba Libres and our newfound Baracoeses amigos.

And as per usual, the adventures would just keep on coming… 🙂

Silhouettes on beach