SOCIALISMO O MUERTE

...is the first thing I saw when I touched down at Holguin Airport, Cuba.

Having barely survived the buffeted plummet from the skies, I vowed to be more social. I'd already had one near death experience.

Humidity hurts most when you haven't experienced it for a while. Suddenly, your pores open and you rain from yourself, even while standing still... and in jeans at the Cuban customs.

The dialogue.

Customs boy "cch-ow wahs yor flie-eet"?

Procrasto"Pardon me?"

Customs boy"ccch-yor flie-eet wahs smoot?"

*looks around for translator furtively*

Procrasto"Uh... yeah. Bumpy."

Customs boy"Theees ees yor feerst veesit in Cooba?"

Procrasto "Yes, yes it is"

Customs Boy looks at passport. Looks at Procrasto. Looks at passport. Looks at Procrasto. Looks at passport. Looks at Procrasto. Looks at Passport. Looks at Procrasto. Looks at Passport. Looks at Procrasto.

Customs Boy is joined by Customs Girl with curiously long turquiose fingernails.

Customs Boy and Customs Girl look at passport. Look at Procrasto. Look at Passport. Look at Procrasto. Look at Passport. Look at Procrasto. Look at Passport. Look at Procrasto. Look at Passport. Look at Procrasto.

Customs Boy "Cccch-hev a gud whole-ee-dai"

And just like that, I had been admitted into Cuba.

Well, after a further 3 security stops and a few suspicious glances.

And just like that I was admitted out of the airport, ushered on a bus and we were on our way. Over mountain and down dale. Giggling at the sight of real palm trees... and marvelling at the simplistically beautiful single room houses that the Cubans called home.

And then the resort.

Set up as a series of pagoda style, open plan buildings, and based (I was to learn later) on a railway structure... all services went in one line... from Lobby to Beach, with various restaurants and accomodations filtering off the main path. See?

We immediatley (after walking around in the dense humid air for half an hour searching) found our room, dropped our bags and changined into shorts, blinding whatever was close by the whiteness of our limbs.

People. If you want a whiter, brighter smile - just never allow your teeth to see sunlight. No toothy grins... pretend you're 90. They won't just be white. They will GLEAM!

And then the beach... The torquoise, blue and sandybeach... the sun reflecting off the ocean surface like a thousand little gems. Inviting me in.

Photos in part 2.

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