Cuba Revisited

We're visiting a dictatorship and since mingling with the civilians is not encouraged all of us tourists lived on a spit of land with magnificent light sand where machines clear away any tide-line debris each morning.

There is little choice for gift-shopping so we did what is expected; five of us piled into a tiny cab and headed off a short drive to Varadero flea market.

At first glance the market does not have curb appeal. If you stared at it for an hour it wouldn't suddenly have curb appeal. It takes up a small city block, several aisles set out in higgly piggly order, shaded by an archway of plastic sheeting.

Souvenirs are made of anything located on the island. Anything you can think of is carved from coconut and local wood. Anything you can fashion from shells is fashioned. I'm not sure where the cotton comes from but the tee shirts are printed with pictures of Che Guevara. He is their hero.

The shopkeepers line up chairs in the middle of the aisles and they sit together and chat while keeping an eye on their own stalls. Many men worked on their wood carvings and some women crocheted beautiful hammock covers and over-the-swimsuit shifts.

It was always hot, desperately bake--0ven hot and they had set up little electric fans that sputtered a bit of cool air their way. It was best not to examine the method they used to get electricity of any kind in there.

You'll need to make two trips; the first time, just wander through and check out the merchandise. You will be too drippy and slippery to actually buy anything and another thing--there is very little haggling--you pay what they ask.

On your second trip, you know roughly what you want to buy and where to find it and it goes very well. your cab driver will amiably wait for you as well.

About the taxis--there are few cars and buses that are older than 1958, due to the American embargo. The vehicles they have are kept in beautiful condition and cars are passed down in the family. I didn't see any speeding or careless driving--those vehicles had to last.

We lucked out with one cab, a gorgeous 1950-something Cadillac. with those lovely fins, leather seats in immaculate condition and the kind of top that accordions down at the push of the button. We felt as though we were in a magic land as we floated back to the resort.