Mantanzas
Today it rained for the first time on our trip. Nobody is complaining, just describing. Describing how the potholes became filled with muddy water, making it difficult to tell how deep they are and resulting in a rather lumpy ride. And how, because I do not have any sort of rear fender, the dirty water on the road spun up like a fountain to my back, and more significantly, into my bicycle shorts, swelling the padding much like a diaper. It made me really empathize with infants, as they chafed terribly when I rode and hung soggily when I walked.
However, perhaps due to the wetness, when we pedaled by a sign carved with the name “Finca Coincidenca”, with a few huge sculptures in a pasture by the road, I used it as an excuse to stop and dry out for a minute.
Weezie, ever game, was happy to pull over and explore it with me. We walked up the driveway and were greeted by two little girls, and a puppy.
“What is this place?” We asked, “A park?” The girls giggled and told us it was private, but to follow them. They led us to their grandmother who was cooking in an outdoor kitchen. She welcomed us to her farm and told the girls to give us a tour. They led us through groves of mango trees with six foot tall metal shoes in its shade. They introduced us to their calf and pet tree rat named Julia.. We chatted as we strolled through pastures with a serving bowl and utensils four feet across and a large rock with multiple faces carved in it. We crossed over a walking bridge and found a twelve foot tall man wrestling a similar sized fish. We were agog.
After our tour, the grandmother gave us some fresh squeezed mango juice and explained that when she moved to this land, there was one tree. Now, 40 years later, it is an organic farm, full of lush orchards, grass land and coffee plants. It specializes in medicinal foods and has become an art collective. We then visited with an artist working there and she showed us the kilns that towered 15 feet tall, all built by hand. I was so full of wonder at this paradise that I barely thought of my chafed bum once. I fantasized about staying on for an extended visit and it was hard to say goodbye and get back on our bikes.
Cuba has a very vital art community. Often on this trip we have been struck by fantastic sculptures that seem incongruous in this place of struggle. In the midst of rusty cars and chaos, the big cities make artistic expression a priority and there is incredible talent. There are many layers to this county.