Neuvitas to Camagüey
48 miles
Camagüey is alive with culture and color, music and good cheer, just not with electricity. There are visitors here from other parts of the world. I have heard a good deal of French and German layered on top of the constant cresting and falling of the Spanish language. I am loving the bustle after so many quiet days.
While out on my afternoon stroll, I was stopped by a Canadian man stepping out of a high class hotel.
“Miss, are you from the United States?” I stopped in mid stride and turned. This has been the first English I had heard spoken and I was eager for news of the world. After quick introductions, and an agreement about the lunacy of my president, we fell into a talk about Cuba’s current state.
“I come here for two or three months every year, but now I have to leave. Canada is calling everyone off the island.”
I told him that I had two weeks left of my bicycle trip and he sucked his teeth.
“I don’t know, two weeks is a long time. So much is happening, so fast. You should do some research.”
The concierge of the hotel, who had been listening in the entrence way stepped forward.
“Comeback tonight at six and I will get you WiFi, you need to know.” It was his worry that made me feel ill.
I spend much of my time on these trips convincing myself that people are good, working on embracing the goodness in humanity regardless of cultural differences and now I realize that what I am most afraid of is my home land and what is happening there. The Cubans make me feel more than welcome and safe. It is our country I am fearing.
What a sickening thought.
