It is what it is; or, Why Gitmo is (really) Not Cuba

You know the Princess and the Pea story?

I am the (anti) princess living on a really, really bad mattress/box springs. 

The Fred Flintstone/World's Most Uncomfortable Furniture is about to go back into the hands of housing (thank you! but no thanks!) and our stuff is coming tomorrow! 

This is how I am coping: 

Any of you who have had the bizarre experience of working with me knows one of my many, many, many weird obsessions is post-it notes. My post-it notes have post-it notes. They are on my monitor. They are on the wall above my desk. I like them in all shapes and sizes. And I am now living in a house covered with bright pink post-its. How else will the movers know where the Dude Chair goes? 

And in case you are wondering, I'm one of those horrible, mean women who won't allow a Lazy-Boy in her house, so the compromise is the Dude Chair---a big, honking leather arm chair and ottoman that takes up way more room than a Lazy-Boy. (Before you go feeling all sorry for the hubby, you should have seen the almost 20 blissful married years' worth of sporting equipment in our garage when we were weeding out things to move). 

We have SO much stuff coming---something like 15K lbs. That's just ridiculous. When you stay somewhere for 10 years, you start to nest. I have a feeling the thrift/charity store is going to get a whole new inventory by the end of the holidays. 

Cuban Club=Gitmo's Only Cuban Restaurant

Here's the thing about living in Cuba---we aren't living in Cuba. Technically, we're on the island of Cuba. But for this 45 square mile area, we are on American soil. Unlike any other foreign base, we do not have any contact with the locals. We cannot leave the base---ever. Yes, there is still an embargo, so as Americans on American soil, we cannot purchase Cuban products. This includes cigars. 

So why would we want to live here as civilians if we aren't getting much Cuban culture? In many ways, we still are. There is a Cuban restaurant---from what I hear, it's authentic food (and we like it). The history of an American base on a Communist island is complicated----Spanish American War, Cold War, now just waiting out the end of the Castro regime. We can listen to the Cuban propaganda any time we want on the radio, and get the other side of the story by reading dissidents' online accounts of life in Cuba today. I look out my front door at night, and lit up like a long string of Christmas lights, is the fenceline. Sometimes it's hard to believe that a very short distance away, there are people living an entirely different life than anything I've ever known.

Sometimes we read (or see on BBC World News) stories about Las Damas de Blanco---the Ladies in White---who protest daily in Havana for the release of their male relatives and friends imprisoned for political reasons. Many of those imprisoned were journalists, political activists, and librarians.

The women have been marching since 2003, every day, rain or shine. There were 75 men jailed, most for at least 20 years.

Ladies standing by their men, fighting for freedom of speech. What's not to love?

On a clear day, we can see the closest town, Caimanera---some of the prisoners are held there. I'm hoping their time goes quickly. I have a feeling it isn't.

Although many people associate Gitmo with "that place"---you know the one, that place I am not going to discuss because it has absolutely nothing to do with why I'm here----there is another mission here, too. Cubans seeking political asylum come through Gitmo. They are welcomed and helped through the process. Hopefully, they can prove they are escaping to here for political reasons and not just financial ones, so they can then move on to the mainland.

There are crazy things going on in Texas (Succession! Ignorant multi-term governor! People wanting teachers to wear guns!), but Cuba makes Texas look plumb normal with all its going ons. And part of the experience of living here isn't travel, or language, or even food, but the exposure to the "other"---what you sometimes can't see, but you know is right there.

Travel, food, and shopping can come later. I'm grateful for what I have---not just the tangible that I hope to mostly give away, once it finally gets here tomorrow, but everything else that I often take for granted.