Once More to Las Terrazas

I've written about Las Terrazas before in these blogs.  It's a UNESCO Biosphere Reserve about 50 miles west of Havana, high up in the Sierra Rosario Mountains.  On my first visit, Xenia Mathews and Bob Skogland, accomplished animal activists and good friends were my fellow travelers, and the second time, Nikki Kil and Marianne Meijer, animal activists and TAP supporters, were along with Nora and me.

The little mountain town is hardly typical of Cuba, having been built in the 1990's to cater to the many tourists the UNESCO Reserve attracts.  Formerly a coffee plantation, the terraced land was rapidly reclaimed by a dense tropical jungle parted by miles of hiking trails.  A beautiful hotel and a famous restaurant, El Romero, offering only locally grown vegetarian food are the two main businesses in town.  Nora's friend, Tito, who developed the restaurant for the Cuban government, was with us again for the second visit.

After a memorable meal, we all lingered at our balcony table, looking out over the neat little cabins of the town and the lake, all below us in a little valley, making a perfect picture of peace.  We talked about how idyllic it would be to live there, but we questioned if we soon would feel isolated from the music and bustle of the city. Chickens and a pheasant scratched around in the yard beneath our balcony, unafraid of the vegetarians in the restaurant.

Nikki and Marianne spotted a horse tethered in a yard far below us and decided to walk down to see it up close.  Not far past the horse was the center of town, hardly more than a general store and a few cabins.

Nikki returned to say there was a dog lying in the road in town and then left again to investigate.  I elected to stay with our paraphernalia—a tote bag, a sweater, and a camera, and to enjoy the mountain air and beautiful view.  I watched as the ladies circled around the dog, but they were way too far away from me to hear what was going on.

Perhaps half an hour passed before they came back one by one, and this time Nikki had a large shopping bag of stale bread from the general store.  They reported the dog was unhurt and capable of walking—it had merely been sleeping near the edge of the road.  Like most dogs in Cuba, he was hungry, and, like most Cuban strays, he had fleas.  Nora, who always has treatment for fleas and mange with her, administered some meds, and Nikki bought the bread and fed him all he wanted before they all climbed back up the hill to El Romero.  We busied ourselves feeding the bread to the birds patrolling the grass below the balcony.  While down with the dog, Nikki had found a young man in the town, given him money for more bread, and gotten him to promise to keep the dog fed.  Tito's friend, Carlos, who regularly visits Las Terrazas, was pressured to check up on the dog.  Nikki had arranged help for the dog long after she returned to Holland.

The quiet little town nestled with its lake in a mountain valley almost had a sedative effect on us.  We were in no hurry to get back to the big city.  The horse, the dog, the young man, the clerk in the general store surely retained memories of the two Dutch women and the Cuban lady with the medicine in her purse.  Otherwise we left Las Terrazas as we found it—sleeping by a lake in the mountains.

Les Inglis