Sunday, August 14, 2016

An ASEAN Celebration

Happy Birthday, ASEAN!

In case you missed it, August 8 marked the forty-ninth birthday of the Association of South East Asian Nations, a strategic alliance among eleven nations in that region. As the Ambassador to Malaysia, my host led the celebration for all the member nations here in Cuba. 

I personally have never been to an ASEAN birthday celebration before, so I was quite interested to see how it would shake out. 

^ My friends' second-born son was enlisted to take aerial photos of the opening ceremonies from the balcony above. I was in charge of standing in the shade. 

^ Flag ceremony. Don't think I'd ever heard the Malaysian national anthem before. But now I have. 

Yo! There's a white lady on the balcony?! Who let her in??

First and most formal were the opening ceremonies: flag raising, opening remarks from our ambassador, and a classic large group photo shoot. 

From there, the party-goers divided into four teams and played a variety of outdoor games: musical chairs, relay races, that sort of thing. Prizes were awarded for everyone. Yay!

Then it was time to eat  

Oh my goodness. Each country team provided a few national dishes and I was in pure culinary heaven. Turns out that the all-male group of ambassadors sit at one table, and their womenfolk, which included me, sit together at another. 

Which is how I came to be addressed as "Madame America" by the wife of the Ambassador from Indonesia, and spoke a bit of Spanish with her counterpart from Laos, who can't manage English.

The event broke up with brisk efficiency after the meal, and we all moved on to the rest of our day. Still, the happy, cooperative, celebratory mood lingered through my afternoon. 

Not sure what I'll be doing next year to recognize the fiftieth birthday of the proud ASEAN allegiance. But if I do nothing more than reflect back on these 2016 festivities, it will be a good day indeed. 


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Old Havana On The Eve Of Fidel's Birthday

Friday night, on the eve of Fidel Castro's ninetieth birthday celebration.

Having just endured the chaos of pre-birthday celebrations for Vietnam's Ho Chi Minh in Hanoi last May, I steeled myself for massive traffic jams, police barricades, and endless throngs of citizens in full-blown party mode. 

But this is Cuba. Everything is different here. See for yourself. 


The narrow streets and airy plazas of Old Havana were mostly empty and entirely peaceful. We found one old man set up with a laptop projecting a slideshow of Fidel's glory days against an impromptu screen. A small crowd had gathered around to watch, whether in silent adoration or stifled outrage, I'm not sure.

My friends and I, fueled by a pure chocolate snack session at a popular confectionery cafe, wandered here and there, trying to capture photos of the heat lightning and watching the quiet passers by. 

Our only brush with excitement came at the very end of the evening when an enterprising Cuban man tried to market to me with an invitation to a local social club and an offer to show me where to buy cigars. 

"Alright, goodnight," he politely conceded as I successfully brushed him off. "Please enjoy my beautiful culture."

I smiled in return. But as I continued on my way to the car, I found myself wondering which culture he meant - Fidel's original dream of a Marxist paradise, or the fledgling capitalist economy that is slowly developing in the vacuum of his apparent failure. 


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The Puppy At The Castle



Castillo de los Tres Reyes Magos del Morro - Morrow Castle -has guarded the entrance to Havana Harbor since 1589 and to this day dominates the cityscape. 

Perched across the water from the main city, the castle provides the perfect place to see the city, stretch one's legs, and take in a sumptuous sunset. 


After the sun had gloriously descended into the Caribbean waters, my friends and I strolled back up the royal hill. Majestic clouds piled up on the horizon; heat lightning flashed all around us. 

In the gathering darkness, a princely puppy came over to play. Frisky and small, maybe two months old, he jumped up against my leg and investigated my hands. Finding no food there, he gently mouthed my wrists and clearly invited me to play. I talked to him cheerfully and he listened, sitting near my feet and cocking his head at the sound of my voice. 

My little friend was clearly not a stray. He wore a makeshift collar around his neck, with a large card I could not read in the darkness. I assumed he belonged to someone at the nearby food stall. 

But as our car appeared, and we all jumped in and moved off, I looked back to see my little friend, sitting exactly where I left  him, serenely watching as our car drove away. 

And while I know it's just a fantasy, I like to think that this regal little fellow lives on at the castle, welcoming all who come to see the sunsets. 


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Friday, August 12, 2016

Sunset Chasers: Cuban Edition

Earlier this evening, we were heading into Old Havana on a different adventure. But when we wheeled round the corner and caught our first glimpse of the open air above the sea, all bets were off

"Amazing! Beautiful! Unbelievable!" I poured out every accolade I could conjur. 

Now if I had been at home, behind the wheel of my own car, no doubt I would have dropped everything to get that shot. I've a long, well-documented history of sunset chasing. But as a backseat passenger in a foreign land, I didn't feel it was my place to demand a detour. So I sat back and prepared to drive through. 

"You have your camera?" my host, Khairi, asked. 

"Of course."  I don't leave home without it  

Wordlessly, he spun us round, pulled onto a side street and drove us right straight to the edge of the land. 

I jumped out of the car, finger on the shutter, and found this scene waiting for me. 


I'm glad I got the shot, but I'm even happier to know that my Malaysian friend in Cuba chases sunsets too. 


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A Cuban Sunset Story


My second Cuban sunset. 


We drove out to the far corner of the Hemingway Marina and hopped over the sea wall to take in the sights from the edge of the Caribbean Sea. 


Picnickers nearby filled the air with Cuban love songs, blasted from their car. The lyrics from Querida offered the same sweet sentiment as the setting sun. 


Then, just as the sun was slipping away, a young couple joined our team of sun gazers. Nineteen or twenty years old, they caught my eye as they strolled from their car; a happy, effortlessly attractive pair. In the classic Cuban manner, he was carrying an open bottle of beer. But his girlfriend had poured her drink into a stemmed glass and the bubbles sparkled in the low light as she carefully walked toward the sea.  


He jumped up on the sea wall first, and stretched out his hand to help her daintily make the climb, her sundress blowing in the breeze. Then she carefully balanced her delicate glass on the weathered concrete, gathered up a handful of loose rocks, and began throwing them one by one into the waves. 

She took great delight in her game, pointing and laughing after each toss. Her boyfriend made a few throws himself, but mostly he admired her efforts. 


After a few minutes, her arsenal clearly spent, I saw her point toward the land. Then her boyfriend jumped back off the wall into the grassy field, gathered up another big handful of rocks against his crisp white shirt, and brought them back to her. 


And as we ambled back to our car, slapping mosquitoes away against the growing darkness, the couple remained, happily throwing rocks into the Caribbean Sea at twilight.  


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Thursday, August 11, 2016

Poolside In Havana

Welcome to the backyard at the Embassy of Malaysia in Havana, Cuba. Come, let me show you around.  


I know, right? Such a joy and a privilege to share this shaded patio and sun-drenched pool with my friendly diplomatic host family.  

Yes, the tropical August heat is almost unbearable, but a few moments in the pool cool me right down again and set me to rights. Then I slowly dry off on my towel till I'm roasting hot, then splash into the water and start the cycle all over again. 

I'm enjoying every sunny moment in my Malaysian backyard. 


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Old Havana

Rain poured down in buckets as we waited in the car, our walkabout of the city only temporarily postponed by the tropical storm. Lulled into a half-sleep by the sound of the beating torrent on the roof of the car, I dreamed of what I might find within the walls of Old Havana.  


Eventually, the clouds parted and we set off on our adventure. With its baroque architecture, pastel accents, narrow walkways, and shimmering  cobblestones, the original Spanish center of the city did not disappoint. The legends of explorers, friars, and pirates live on in the shadowy alleys and light-filled plazas, and I found myself caught up in their dramatic history.

My only regret was to see much of this ancient architecture in disarray. Centuries of wear and decades of neglect have taken their dismal toll on most of the buildings and I only hope that someday soon, they will be restored to their original beauty. 

Sadly, I couldn't help but reflect on the disconnect between the faded glory of Old Havana and the realities of Cuba today. No longer capable of sustaining such elegance and excess, Post-modern Havana is lean, tough and punctuated with the raw passions of life. 


But as we left the dream world of the old walled city and came back to reality, I stumbled upon this: couple wrapped in a warm embrace, their laughter ringing out as their silhouettes were framed against a strong, featureless wall. 

This is Cuba today. And simple as it might be, it is as filled with spirit as the ancient streets of Old Havana. 


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