Culture Shock, the lost chapters and Amsterdam antics.

Dearest readers, readerettes and readerinos,

I deeply and humbly apologise for my absence these last few days. Too much to do in Cuba, Amsterdam and Austria alike. And too much informational overflow.

Truly, Cuba is a paradise. After just a few hours in Amsterdam, this is quite obvious. Optical overcharge ensues as my eyes glaze over countless displays, billboards, windows - a cornucopia of purchases, just waiting to be made. At every corner, something or someone yells:
Buy! Consume! Buy some more! Buy me!
I was quite speechless, actually.

Somehow, the hustlers and conners that try to talk to you on the streets of Havanna are much easier to cope with. You see them personally, you get their agenda immediatly, and let them be.

Our wonderfully superfluent european promotional propaganda gets at you from every angle, not giving you a moments rest (unless you buy some), and subconciously imprinting the need for more, much more, lots more, in every mind it comes across. I, for one, prefer the Cuban Style.

Of course, being in Amsterdam, one succumbs to the occasional Koffie in a relaxed ambiente. Was good to see the Wallen again, to enjoy the aromas of this old merchant center... Couldn´t bring myself to film, though... Was too busy relaxing. = ]

And now, the lost Chapters:

Dia 18:¡Perdoname, Cuba!

In Guines at the moment. My little old mind has once again been rotated about a 165º.
Getting to know cuban life from the perspective of a non-tourist is what all those stupid rich white sex tourists really should be doing.
This is the real shit here. People enjoying their lives, having there problems, resolving them with a little help from the Santos, generally having a good time. The kids, the Tataguinitos, party like there´s a good tomorrow waiting for them, just around the next dusty corner.
This is good stuff here, really good stuff.
¡Viva la Revolución!

Dia 19: Morning in Guines
Yesterday, after the performance, the kids of Guines satisfied their (substantial) curiosity. Not at all pestering, the asked politely about Austria, snow, austrian traditions, my family, my marital status, etc..
These 8-12 year olds really managed to stage a quite amazing show (for their age group). The boys on the tambores, the girls dancing the rumba.
Leo´s father is a hijo de Ogún, master of swords, knives, guns and all things metal. The warrior. As strong as the earth, a grudge with Ogún is a very bad thing to have.
There´s a dried bird in a metal pyramid hanging in the courtyard. Probably to drive away bad energies, or to channel good ones.. something like that.

"¡Padrino, sacame esta sal de encima!"
(Popular reggaeton song at the moment. Padrino, please relieve me from this curse)

More lost chapters coming up. Me, I´m in Austria at the moment. Relaxing and preparing for the work to come: Editing and producing a promotional short for the Tataguines, moving my stuff out of my vienna appartment, producing a 3-minute trailer of all the stuff we filmed.. .
And yeah, getting ready for my world tour.

This should be fun.
continue reading and watching this spot for further ramblings, ravings and reviews.
greetings, hugs, kisses (choose as appropriate)
-thaelmann-

Dia 15: Malecón Madness, twisted end.

The Malecón on a saturday is just like a festival, but without the stands, outrageous prices and the high-tech stages. Just a whole lot of people, drinking, making out, singing, playing guitar.
Statistical estimates are: about 25-35% are kissing pre-coitally, 60% chugging rum in raw quantities, and the rest are playing guitar or some drums. The better ones of these spontaneous or pre-existing groups can draw as large a crowd as one can reach without amplification.

Don´t forget the lyrics!
Category: Reggaeton from Cuba.
Artist: Chiki, the street rapper:

"No soy famoso, pero la gente me conoce
y no solo es p`arriba que me goce"

(I´m not famous, but the people know me, and it´s not only the upper parts that they enjoy)
Street style reggaeton is basically a two-line joke told in a rythmic and somewhat lyrical way. A central theme is getting away from Cuba.

"El Chikiii...
ya no vive aqui...
se colchó con una yuuumaaa
y se fue pa fueraaaa..."
(Chiki doesn´t live here anymore. He had sex with a foreign girl, and left.)

Applause, laughter, cheering, dancing.

The statistical estimate up there isn´t wholly scientific. There are also large quantities of people sitting around, chatting, smoking or shouting (Apparently, any discussion in Cuba ends in a shouting duel).

Finding a place to sit and jot down some notes is not at all easy, as the Malecón is really as stuffed as Roskilde on Metallica night. (Varying densities included)
You can walk for about half an hour through the crowd without finding a spot that´s large enough to avoid cuddling your neighbors.

There´s another difference to the common european festival: The age groups represented on the Malecón are far broader: Whole families, middle-aged people, whole droves of 12-year olds, herded by the auntie in charge, the obvious adolescents, fishermen around 85, bearded european tourists, and thankfully just a very small quantity of the usual "jinetera and big fat ugly white guy" combination.

It´s strange that nobody there has the idea to go out and buy beers for everybody (charging of course). One could probably make a fortune there with a mobile bar. Either the fines are pretty hefty, or nobody has the capital to start such a small business. The only things sold to the partying Malecón crowd are sweets and flowers for the wooed.

Unfortunately, this wonderful transcultural expedition had a quite brusque end, and a bad one, too. Neilé twisted her ankle while walking over a sidewalk. So, she´s in the hospital, and me with a connection less. (Wanted to film her practicing. Won´t work that well with a plaster foot, I fear.)

As if I hadn´t bombarded you with enough text already, here´s some more:

The colour scheme of Cubas license plates.

Yellow is for "particular" , "privately owned",
Blue is for any state-owned company
Brown is for a state-run institution
Red: the tourist plates from the local humongously expensive rental service
Black: the foreign diplomats

And finally, the highest class:
White. Someone from the extended family, or good friends, of the commandantes.

Concidentially, Neilé hurt her ankle just behind a white plate saying "HGB026".
Get it? HGB. Hagenberg. Like I said, coincidence.

thaelmann out.

Day 4 - Havanna in her total glory.

Yes, that house has air conditioning. With whole air, that is. Garden included. 

It´s the sea! And the rooftops of Cuba´s metropolis.

Chassis: Buick. Motor: Petroleum. Repairing that junkheap: A lifetime of joy.

Repairing stuff is the great cuban virtue. Today: Shoes!
The car on the left is called "Black Widow". Via Concordia, we love you.

day 4 - Pirate Beer and Beautiful ruins..

Pirate Beer. Bucanero. No eyepatch & parrot though.. Bah.

The nicest tiles you ever saw on a run-down house.

Just a street impression... 

Vista del Capitolio.

A whole people of revolutionary mechanics.

¡Dia tres! ¡Avanzamos! ¡Hasta la Victoria - ¡SIEMPRE!

Ok, a new day , new oportunities. We are still trying to get a permission for our documentary. It seems that Cuba is like a huge analog "facebook". Networking is everything and eveybody knows someone who knows someone who could maybe help us to achieve our goal. Yesterday we were invited by the austrian embassador to his residence, a big villa in miramar. Also, a big culture shock , far away from the cuban reality we experience in Habana Vieja. The austrian government rents a colonial palace in the district generally known for it´s posh residences, english garden included.
Dont make apointments with cuban people and expect them to be on time. The term "waiting" gains a wholly new significance when waiting in Cuba. We are writing concepts, changing them, refining them again, elaborating and trying to express ourselves the best we can. "No somos contra Cuba, no somos contra Cuba". Remember that.
That´s not enough, unfortunately. To get tot he right people you need cleverness, patience and time. And a CubaBook full of contacts, just waiting for a message on their wall.

- thaelmann & babaluga - 

for the nueva vista team

Malecon. As seen from a Lada. Please note the waves.

Our Elevator. Isn´t it a dear?

Re-writing our concept.

Embassy fun.

Re-writing our concept again.

50 years of Revolution

There´s one thing about Cuba and Cubans that will be true forever:
They managed to overthrow the corrupt dictator Batista, and have since proven to be more resilent than anyone ever imagined.
Anyone saying that Cuba is a dictatorship now doesn´t know the facts and just repeats the right-wing slurs, so frequently published all around the world.
Discussion is the way to get something done in Cuba, something rarely seen in other countries.

The event in the AK was wonderful: unfortunately, many of the seats were empty, but the lively spirit of those present far made up for that. We experienced the beauty of Cuban music, the different influences, the impact free education has on a people of many talents: Cuban culture flourishes, not inspite the Revolution, or against the Revolution, but because of the Revolution.

"De pie o muerto, pero nunca de rodillas!"
( El Comandante Che Guevara)

- thaelmann -

first post!

Hidyho World,

here we are, still in Austria, still without a clue whether we will be able to film or not. But we´re going to Cuba, so here´s the production blog.
We´ll be posting regular updates everytime we get internet access, funny stories from the island in the sun, nice pictures of beautiful people and generally spending our time usefully.

First off:

Going to Cuba is easy.

Getting to do anything there is not.


Viva la Revolución!
- thaelmann-