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Growin' Our Own (page 3)

Trip to Cuba to Meet the Cuban Ladies, and Bedtime Stories with Snoopy Dog - continued

By: Travelin'

(Click here for a series of images from Travelin's trip to Cuba. For part I of the story, click here.)

Going to Cuba is like entering the Twilight Zone where time stopped about 1960. Mostly old Chevies, Fords, and other US made cars are seen on the roads. A few newer Russian cars exist, but the fact that old US cars are mostly seen on the roads gives the sense that time was stopped in Cuba. Some creative Cubans have taken out back seats of US cars and converted them to pick up trucks. Walking around Havana and seeing no US cars after 1959 dates the country and gives the illusion that in Cuba time stopped sometime before 1960. If you are a collector of cars before 1960, Cuba is your haven. They have them and they're all running. An east coast Mercedes car part company asked if I could find some old Mercedes or parts while in Cuba. The Mercedes and parts were there but it was too complicated to send them to Mexico and then to the US, so the deal didn't work out. It might work out as a successful business to send old US car parts to Cuba. (Remember Cuba is off limits to US citizens. You can't just buy a ticket and go there. However the restriction is only by the US. Cuba will let US citizens be tourists and welcome you.)

As darkness fell, we walked through small Havana parks with green lawns, park benches, and bushes. In the blackness, we only could see eyes looking back. It was an eerie feeling in pitch black darkness. My friend told me he liked to travel with me as I was not afraid in this 2 a.m. darkness. We went to my friend's Havana girlfriend's apartment, and he yelled up to the 2nd floor balcony, calling to her. A black man came out on the balcony to the right and said in Spanish that she had gone to Japan for some educational purpose. My friend translated this to me. He regularly told all Spanish speaking people that he couldn't speak Spanish, but obviously he could. We pressed on looking into New York style buildings used as street level homes. We entered many hotels, with dancing, and my friend explained to me how the hotels must have looked before Castro took control, as gambling casinos. His dream was to buy a hotel and open it as a casino, but under current laws it is impossible.

The next day we met other Cubans who visited our place. I was shown Polaroid pictures of Papa Castro standing with the lady who brought these pictures. In another photo she was with Papa and an old Asian man with a beret cap, and what looked like a cow patty stuck to the back of his head. This other man was the now deceased former leader of North Korea. The cow patty was a cancer tumor which eventually caused his death. I really believe that we met with some high level Cubans on this trip. How and why my friend knew these contacts I'll never know.

We went to the Havana train station, where shiny '55 and '57 Chevies were parked outside. It is not unusual to see these old cars in Cuba, as this is the norm. I longed to take the train ride south across the island to see Santiago, but we didn't have the time. We went to another friend's home in an old residential neighborhood. An abandoned house across the street looked like it was over 2,000 years old and an ancient Greek ruin. The friend's well kept home was shotgun style. If you're familiar with New Orleans you know that a shotgun home is one where you enter the front door and have a clear shot all the way to the back door. I inquired about buying a home and I was told it would cost about $5,000 to $15,000. U.S. Nobody from the US could buy a Cuban home. Americans must register and there are specific rules about waiting for expensive Cuban apartments to become available. The waiting list is very long, but this is some of the best housing in Cuba.

Immigration to Cuba

The quickest way to immigrate to Cuba is to marry a Cuban beauty. This gets you in and you can stay as any other Cuban. This works in most countries, and for more insurance, if you have a baby you're in for life. Most South American countries won't kick you out if you have a child who is a citizen. In fact this is how the London train robber was able to avoid extradition from Brazil to the United Kingdom. His Brazilian wife and child stopped his extradition. He, under conditions of severe illness, recently returned to the UK and was incarcerated. So much for his perfect plan and millions of stolen British pounds. Anyway it is difficult to stay long term in Cuba, but it is possible.

Meeting Foxy Blond Snoopy Dog - Bedtime Stories

Traveling by taxi, we ended up at the classic Nationale Hotel. It has a horseshoe drive to the entry with doormen to greet you. We entered Nationale and the spacious entry with plush white satin covered benches down both sides on the long wide hallway. The Mob had class I thought as I looked around. We went into a quiet bar and closely examined the large framed black and white photos of Al Capone and other mobsters. We went out back and approached a newly painted 20 foot artillery cannon emplacement from days of old. A slinky blond in blue jeans and a white blouse with Snoopy Dog imprint approached me. She had some class and as I placed my hand over the end of the cannon she reached me and grabbed my crotch. She said, "You are nice and big. Do you want my company tonight?" I looked at her flowing blond hair and into her pale blue eyes. As I examined her she was about 5'7", and weighed about 100 lbs. She was very beautiful and since she was still rubbing my crotch I knew she was eager. I looked to my friend and he nodded back. I said, "Sure, where would you like to go?" She said, "To your place?" We hugged each other as I checked her firmness, and held hands as we walked back through the hotel and climbed into a taxi.

She said her name was Snoopy Dog because of Snoopy on her blouse. She had come from a farming village to Havana for a job, but discovered she could make much more money as a companion. She was 25 years old and would spend the night for a gift from me. The gift was $40. We left to pick up her friend for my friend. The four of us crammed into a small Russian cab were all happy. We took them down a boulevard of old Havana mansions and arrived at the modern Commodore Club, which looked like a gated condo community. If you ever go to Havana you can stay at the Commodore. We sat by the swimming pool and had drinks at the outdoor bar. We met some other people who had been educated in Russia and returned to ply their trades in Cuba. This is very common we were told. One young man was an engineer, but in Havana he worked as a school janitor. We hailed another taxi and went to Marina Hemingway. My friend knew the town well. At the marina there is a modern hotel with a fountain depicting the 'Old Man and the Sea' character. I saw the movie with Anthony Quinn. The long fountain was lit up, and had the old man in his small row boat with fishing line hooked into the visible fish.

We walked over towards the marina, and began to hear disco music. We arrived to discover that there was a $10 cover charge to this outdoor party place! This is about a half week's pay for working class Cubans. We paid this unbelievably high cover and entered the open area. There were about 100 tables and a bar dance floor in the center. Along the water was a yacht from New Orleans, complete with the fleur de lys symbol. I got out my camera to take a picture of a 200+ foot engine powered ship. This ship had an onboard helicopter and was worth many millions. Again I was amazed about this poor Cuba, when it had so much more than I expected. We drank and danced until we were ready for bed. We walked back to the hotel and asked the desk clerk to call a taxi. We had been getting very physical and I liked every tight inch of what I felt. It was a long drive along the Havana Riviera to get back to our penthouse and we continued our mutual explorations.

Back home we showed the ladies around the patio and the priceless views of the city and lighthouse. They shared some Cohiba cigars and took their clothes off. We went back outside naked and enjoyed the breeze and each other. My friend decided to hop off to bed with his lady and so we decided to take a shower. The Cuban shower consisted of a white porcelain tub which had two 50 gallon steel drums over it. The drums drained water into a small shower head but we were able to have fun in the shower. Once clean, we got into the sheets, and she was rubbing me hard, when suddenly she went under the covers. Unfortunately I had to stop this and look for some condoms. At the same time my naked friend came in demanding a plastic razor. I said, "What are you shaving at this time of night?" He just laughed and closed our door. I got my lady out of bed and we repaid the naked visit to my friends room. Our sleight delay had given him time to cream a crop of pubes with shaving foam and plow one clean vertical row. As I recall it was the side to my right, but it was her left side. For a few more minutes we watched my friend play doctor getting ready for surgery, and went back to our room for our fun.

Snoopy took matters into her hands and got things straightened out between us. With rubber protection rolled on, I could still feel a warm wet tongue exercising its talents all over me. She was really going to town on this massage. It felt so good that I was running out of other things to think about. Then just in time she did a switch up on me. She scooted up and turned her back to me as we explored for pleasure new areas. With repeated circular hammering motions, she did her expert slippery slide over me. I was watching through our open window as the lighthouse light spun around. I politely asked her to let me know when it was time. She said, "You'll know." Again when I was ready for a change up, she wouldn't let me loose. She said, "Now. Now, its time." Well I heard bells, I saw comets, felt a rocket launch as we both felt togetherness. We came together as close as a man and lady possibly can with our intimate physical feelings . I want to point out there is a big difference between a one night stand and being in love. Stands can be fulfilling, but have no comparison to love combined with physics.

My money and passport had already been hidden, so we dozed off to sleep. Awakened by my friend, who wanted to switch his barbershop cut broad for mine, I asked Snoopy what her choice was. She said she wanted to go again with me, so he disappointedly left, and we went to other dimensions in our explorations. With sad blue eyes, at the break of daylight she gave me her phone number and left with her girlfriend. I slept for a few hours more as Havana came alive for another day. Snoopy probably knew that I had no intention of calling her, but I acted like I would call. With so many women why would I go back to a one night stand? This is especially true about a working girl. I finally got up, showered and went to an outdoor café for some noontime beer.

Later we went to a huge white sandy beach east of the lighthouse. There were about 10,000 people with day tents and blankets, and slender beauties sunning and running around in skimpy bikinis. We found an open spot to park our towels, camera, tanning oil, and hit the surf. The water was a perfect temperature. Ladies herded into the surf, swam up to us and were grabbing us, so we were forced to stay in the ocean for a long time. About 2 hours later a black rain cloud appeared over palm trees way east of the beach. I pointed it out to our friends. We watched as it grew bigger and nearer, and high winds picked up chopping at the sea. People began running off the beach, packing up tents, towels, and disappeared into the parking lot area. Finally as the winds blew us sideways and pounding rain hit us, we were all alone on the beach. It was an eerie feeling being on a beach with 10,000 people and then being the last ones there. Our white haired friend took our beach stuff, wrapped it into towels and buried it all under the fine white sand. He motioned for us to follow him back into the furious boiling ocean. In pouring rain, we bobbed up and down in whitecaps for about 20 minutes when the black windy wet cloud passed. When we could again hear each other we were told this brief storm was an advance part of a hurricane which was headed north. When I heard this I understood why all the Cubans had quickly evacuated the beach. This nearby beach was where I liked to go lady watching.

The other Cuban nights and action with the ladies of Havana were about the same. If you ever make it there (and someday it will open to US tourists) take all your small bottles of hotel shampoo and lotions, and buy a pack of throw away razors. Save these for the right time. Small denomination bills are good so you won't end up with a lot of Cuban change. Like maybe $300 in $1.00 bills or 3 bundles, and a bundle or 2 of $5.00 bills. Cubans will pass off their money for yours and if you don't spend theirs you'll be stuck with it.

Leaving Cuba was merely making a trip back to the Havana Airport. My Cuban slip passport was removed and I boarded the Cubana Airlines jet back to Nassau. I spent the night at the Orange Hill Inn and played with the chameleon lizards that were all over the stairs. The next day the hurricane was approaching Nassau, so it was questionable whether my flight back to Atlanta would be scrubbed. I watched as the high winds blew down the TV antenna over the main inn building. I took a cab to the airport and was rushed through U.S. Customs. My passport was examined. The U.S. Officer asked where I went, as my passport was stamped when I left the Bahamas for Cuba and was again stamped when I returned to Nassau. I had 10 missing days, in my passport. I wasn't sure how to explain this missing 10 days. Fortunately I had gotten about half drunk for the trip back to Atlanta. Acting drunk and mixed up, I told the officer I'd been at the Green Hill resort. He asked about liquor and I told him I drank it all. Smelling the rum, he passed me through. I hadn't been warned that the U.S. had a customs/immigration check in the Bahamas, but everybody was rushing us through to get ahead of the storm and it all worked out. We beat the hurricane back to the states. I arrived in Atlanta with my box of Cuban Cohiba cigars and my Cuban memories.

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