Cangrejos y Cocodrilos

Friday was eventful. We drove 3 hours southeast to Playa de Girón (Bay of Pigs). By drove, I mean swerved – the whole way – because during this time of year for about two months, the crabs are out. There were thousands of them, darting across the road with their claws pointed upward. Being in a minivan while an aggressive Habanero driver dodges suicidal crabs at full speed is what I can imagine being in a video game would be like. It was the most entertaining car ride ever, especially when Jefe either over or undercompensated one swerve and slaughtered a crab, who in turn, slaughtered our car tire. Sharp lil suckers. So we then bobbled as we swerved, through the swamp – the road littered with dead crabs and the air smelled of… dead crabs. I did, however, get to abandon my wooden bench-seat temporarily because we had to take 2 cars. I got a taste of luxury with a real seat, and was in the van with our professors, a Cuban photographer, and our con-man taxi driver. Intriguing conversations ensued, especially when Nestor, the photographer, thought I was too invested in my Che book to be paying attention. Compiled a whole vocab list of creative new curse combinations and slang expressions.

We finally thumped our way to the Girón Museum to learn that the electricity was out, so we couldn’t watch the documentary they had set up for us. But that’s Cuba, so we got over it, and Raúl, our Cuban-US relations professor, acted as our tour guide. Seeing the invasion from a Cuban perspective was fascinating. Instead of a “we screwed up” vantage point, we’ve studied the invasion through the lens of triumph. Seeing the entire relationship between our two countries from a Cuban perspective is fascinating. As a general theme, we tend to forget that the U.S. government is going to manage its own interests, which, in the case of pre-revolutionary Cuba, were in direct contrast to the interests of the Cuban population. In other words, U.S. imperialism was oppressive to the Cuban people. So, you get a revolution. And sure, there are still tons of problems, the first of which being I can’t really discuss those problems. But now I’m not even talking about the Bay of Pigs anymore. Must stay on track.

While we were in the museum, Jefe and Marci were working on the tire issue. Now, educated and hungry, we loaded up the van once again and took off, back up the swampy dead-crab road, toward los cocodrilos. Yes, we learned there was a crocodile farm in the area, so obviously, we have lunch plans. The restaurant was a few miles down the road, so I sadly didn’t get to see the lil crockies. Well, at least not alive. Sitting down under the straw hut, we began to tear through about 8 giant tomato salads and fish soup. Not even needing a menu, everyone ordered cocodrilo. While waiting, we looked over the bluest water I’ve ever seen and I remembered I was secretly wearing a bathing suit under my clothes. Always prepared. The crocodile was…uggh. I kind of expected as much, but had to try it anyway. Didn’t matter because I concealed the aftertaste with a shot of espresso and soon forgot about it as I had moved on to other, more important matters. Namely, the ocean. Darting off down the beach and stripping clothes off on the way, I arrived at the rocky shoreline and bought a pair of goggles, flippers, and a snorkel from another hut. Spastically splashed my way down the rocks, and went out to explore the coral reefs and make friends with the fishes. Cuba has some of the most well-preserved coral reefs because of the lack of fertilizer used in agriculture. (After the collapse of the Soviet Union, Cuba lost all its imports that supported industrial agriculture – chemical pesticides, fertilizers, tractors, irrigation equipment, etc. As a result, this lil ole island is a world leader in sustainable agriculture solutions. I have to put this in parenthesis because it doesn’t pertain to what I’m talking about and I feel a tangent coming on. Will write about that at a later date…very interesting).

Smiling awkwardly with my plate of cocodrilo:

To sum up the day: flat tire via crabs, on-site class at the Bay of Pigs, crocodile lunch, and snorkeling in the bluest, non-pesticided water. Que belleza!

P.S. We were lucky enough to be there on the 50^th anniversary of the invasion. Well, technically one week early, but they were starting the celebration anyway. Tomorrow, April 15 is the anniversary of the day they landed on the beach, and April 16 is when they met Castro’s forces.