Fidel: The Permanent Life

I just spent the last two weeks on the beautiful island of Cuba. I arrived the day before christmas and came back a few days after the new year. But por favor, just keep that between me and you, don't just go telling everybody, the IRS and all, thing is, I could get into trouble for going. I'm American and my country has beef with Cuba, big time beef, since like sixty three.

I came back from my third country journey via canada on sunday and i've been struggling 'bout where and how to start describing my experience in one of the most unique countries in the world.

Introduction...

Parking our car in the Sierra del Escrambay Parque Nationale, this man appeared at the trailhead explaining that he'd watch our car for us as we went hiking into the jungle beyond.

"But, but, but, if you have a little plumita, a pluma, a little pen for me when you get back," he asked in spanish, "Please I'd like one." We shrugged and headed off into mountains where Fidel, Che, Camilo Cienfuegos planned out the revolution years before.

We returned to the car a couple of hours later and this wonderful man was still there.

"A pen, a pen, a pen?" he asked. He was an incredibly cheerful man who loved pens. He had about seven already tucked in his front pockets and another five stuffed in his hat. The locals we had run into on our hike seemed to think he wasn't playing with a full deck. But pops, davey and myself thought otherwise. He was set on his pens and his demeanor, soft, eager, inquisitive and friendly.

Pops handed him a pen.

"Excuse me sir," Davey approached him and asked in spanish, "but, um, what are you writing with all those pens?"

"I'm writing a history of Cuba," he said, "Give me a few minutes and I'll write you the history of Cuba."

Davey turned to me, shrugged and turned back to the man, "What's it called?"

"Fidel: The Permament Life."

Love 'n' health to all, and a couple snowstorms before the summer, please...