I Remember You
It had been almost exactly a year since my last trip to Cuba, and I was staying in the hotel Presidente, as I always do. After seven trips, I had begun to look upon that place as my home away from home. I knew many of the hotel employees by name, such as George the elder and George the younger, two bellmen who remember me when I show up. Frank is another bellman who remembers me, and Natasha is a waitress in one of the hotel's two restaurants. Stepping into the lobby to register for a short stay is a little like old home week.
With two dogs and six cats at home, I often miss their company when I'm away, but even in the pet department, the hotel makes me feel at home with Bigotes, a tabby cat who haunts the porches and dining room. She is always ready for a petting session, as am I. At less than half the cost of the famous Hotel Nacional my budget appreciates the Presidente too.
The Hotel Presidente is an 11 story building built in 1928. When completed it was the tallest building in Cuba—for a while at least. I like buildings of this era. Other examples mightg be the Chrysler Building in New York, the Carew Tower in Cincinnati, and the Bok Singing Tower in Lake Wales, Florida. That era was one of workmanship, no skimming on details, and high quality construction.
The Presidente housed one of Cuba's first casinos in the well-known gangster era. Today there is no trace of it, and every floor is filled with guest rooms.
Getting around in Havana is easy if you're staying at the Presidente. Cabs, vans, and buses line up along the east and south sides, and there is seldom a wait for a ride. This year, my traveling companions, Jerry, Xenia and Bob, came outside with me to get a cab, and a handsome, smiling cabbie sprung to attention and held a door for Xenia. We settled in with me in the front seat, and I told him we were headed to Central Havana, but first we had to make a stop in Vedado to pick up another lady (Nora).
The cabbie brightened and said, "I remember you. You were here last year with two Dutch women and then also we had to go to Calle I to pick up Nora." I was dumbstruck—he had remembered me for a year, my Dutch friends and Nora's name. He went on, "I had to call for Nora on my cell phone as she lives on the tenth floor." Incredible, I thought, he recalled the cell call and the floor her apartment is on.
His name was Reynaldo, and I was blown away by his ability to recall one cab ride a year before. What I wouldn't give for a memory like that! Reynaldo and I chatted until we got to our destination. I figure I'll see him again on another trip to Havana. I sure hope so, and if I do, I'm certain he'll remember me.
I always thought I had a pretty good memory, but after two encounters with Reynaldo, I'll never brag about it again. In fact, as I write these blogs, I sometimes come up short trying to remember a name. If necessary, I'll make up a name when I can't remember. I figure who will know, and it doesn't make any difference to the point of the story.
For example, in this posting, both Georges, Frank, Natasha, Jerry, Xenia, and Bob are all real names of my friends. I hate to admit it, but Bigotes and Reynaldo were christened by me when I couldn't dig up their real names from the dust bin that serves as my memory.
Les Inglis
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Subsistence
Subsistence
When I'm in Cuba, I spend most of my time in Havana, a city of more than two million people. Havana in 1958 was a modern, tourist-oriented capital city, and while it has suffered from a severe case of deferred maintenance since then, it is still like lots of other places in the world, albeit the worse for wear. But you can have a different view of Cuba if you venture into the rural areas.
I haven't seen eastern Cuba, but I have traveled a little into the western part of the island. This month we briefly visited Pinar del Rio and Viñales, a long drive from Havana. Our visit to a farm was worth discussion in these blogs.
We were near Viñales, famous for its loaf-of-bread shaped mountains (called "mogotes") and flat valley floors, giving the place an other-world flavor. One might expect a hilly transition between flat ground and mountains, but not here. The mountains have nearly vertical walls which pretty well prevent people from living on them. You find the people, instead, on the flat valley floors, and such was the setting for the farm we visited.
You'd be correct in calling it a subsistence farm, and it was difficult to imagine a whole family making its living on this barren land. We stopped the van on a deserted road, and saw the driveway curving up toward the small house in the distance. The driveway was too rough, so we got out of the van and walked toward the house. The bare ground of the driveway looked like the red earth of Georgia, but slightly darker.
The house may have had two rooms and a little front porch. There were a couple of sheds but no barn. Our driver had stopped here before, and he greeted the farmer. As they talked in rapid-fire, highly accented Spanish that I couldn't hope to understand, the rest of us walked around to see what kind of place this was. The wife (or possibly a daughter) was sitting on the front porch, nursing a baby, and several skinny little dogs milled around sniffing and scratching.
I discovered a large pot (more like a cauldron) sitting on a log fire behind the house. It's contents were boiling, and a burlap bag floated on the surface of the liquid in the pot. I puzzled over the burlap, and finally decided it was to suppress foaming. When I saw it, I didn't know what was cooking, but whatever it was, it was too much to be intended for the few people living in the house. It was clearly a farm product meant to be sold.
That guess proved to be right when I was told it was hot sauce, and then I saw a large carton of bottles of hot sauce filled, capped, and waiting to be sold or shipped to the city. We were told the farmer was certified by the government to bottle and sell his product.
Nora and the driver each bought several bottles of the hot sauce to take back to the city. That's the way lots of farm products make their ways to the dinner tables in Cuba. City dwellers, on trips to the country, buy farm products and take them back to give or sell to friends and relatives or possibly to be sold in the many little food stands you find in Havana. Nora and the driver were functioning as part of Havana's food supply system.
But Nora had a larger interest—the little dogs roaming about. She discovered there was no water bowl set out for them, and she told the farmer of her work in animal protection and gave a little lecture on always having water for them. She asked and got permission to treat the little dogs for parasites, and soon she was digging in her large bag for a syringe and a vial of medicine. Every dog got a dose of the medicine.
Nora and our driver bought another box of melanga root, a tough brown root that looks like something that would grow in a desert. Well, In this dry, dusty place, "desert" was a good word for the surroundings. Melanga can be peeled, fried, boiled into soup or stewed. It's a starchy, high-calorie standard part of the Cuban diet with a nut-like flavor. Once again, Nora and our driver were part of the food supply chain for Havana.
I told Charlene that I had never been on a farm so primitive before. There was no electricity, telephone, air-conditioning, or television. She said, "You haven't seen all of Kentucky, then." Well, not to be argumentative but I've seen a lot of Kentucky, and this little farm in Viñales, with strange shaped mountains in the distance was in a class by itself.
Les Inglis
When I'm in Cuba, I spend most of my time in Havana, a city of more than two million people. Havana in 1958 was a modern, tourist-oriented capital city, and while it has suffered from a severe case of deferred maintenance since then, it is still like lots of other places in the world, albeit the worse for wear. But you can have a different view of Cuba if you venture into the rural areas.
I haven't seen eastern Cuba, but I have traveled a little into the western part of the island. This month we briefly visited Pinar del Rio and Viñales, a long drive from Havana. Our visit to a farm was worth discussion in these blogs.
We were near Viñales, famous for its loaf-of-bread shaped mountains (called "mogotes") and flat valley floors, giving the place an other-world flavor. One might expect a hilly transition between flat ground and mountains, but not here. The mountains have nearly vertical walls which pretty well prevent people from living on them. You find the people, instead, on the flat valley floors, and such was the setting for the farm we visited.
You'd be correct in calling it a subsistence farm, and it was difficult to imagine a whole family making its living on this barren land. We stopped the van on a deserted road, and saw the driveway curving up toward the small house in the distance. The driveway was too rough, so we got out of the van and walked toward the house. The bare ground of the driveway looked like the red earth of Georgia, but slightly darker.
The house may have had two rooms and a little front porch. There were a couple of sheds but no barn. Our driver had stopped here before, and he greeted the farmer. As they talked in rapid-fire, highly accented Spanish that I couldn't hope to understand, the rest of us walked around to see what kind of place this was. The wife (or possibly a daughter) was sitting on the front porch, nursing a baby, and several skinny little dogs milled around sniffing and scratching.
I discovered a large pot (more like a cauldron) sitting on a log fire behind the house. It's contents were boiling, and a burlap bag floated on the surface of the liquid in the pot. I puzzled over the burlap, and finally decided it was to suppress foaming. When I saw it, I didn't know what was cooking, but whatever it was, it was too much to be intended for the few people living in the house. It was clearly a farm product meant to be sold.
That guess proved to be right when I was told it was hot sauce, and then I saw a large carton of bottles of hot sauce filled, capped, and waiting to be sold or shipped to the city. We were told the farmer was certified by the government to bottle and sell his product.
Nora and the driver each bought several bottles of the hot sauce to take back to the city. That's the way lots of farm products make their ways to the dinner tables in Cuba. City dwellers, on trips to the country, buy farm products and take them back to give or sell to friends and relatives or possibly to be sold in the many little food stands you find in Havana. Nora and the driver were functioning as part of Havana's food supply system.
But Nora had a larger interest—the little dogs roaming about. She discovered there was no water bowl set out for them, and she told the farmer of her work in animal protection and gave a little lecture on always having water for them. She asked and got permission to treat the little dogs for parasites, and soon she was digging in her large bag for a syringe and a vial of medicine. Every dog got a dose of the medicine.
Nora and our driver bought another box of melanga root, a tough brown root that looks like something that would grow in a desert. Well, In this dry, dusty place, "desert" was a good word for the surroundings. Melanga can be peeled, fried, boiled into soup or stewed. It's a starchy, high-calorie standard part of the Cuban diet with a nut-like flavor. Once again, Nora and our driver were part of the food supply chain for Havana.
I told Charlene that I had never been on a farm so primitive before. There was no electricity, telephone, air-conditioning, or television. She said, "You haven't seen all of Kentucky, then." Well, not to be argumentative but I've seen a lot of Kentucky, and this little farm in Viñales, with strange shaped mountains in the distance was in a class by itself.
Les Inglis
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Change in the Wind
Change in the Wind
Something is different in Cuba these days. We've been hearing about reforms since Fidel Castro stepped down for health reasons a few years ago. Younger brother, Raul Castro, didn't inherit a bed of roses when he took over the reins of the Cuban government. There were food shortages, money shortages, and Cuba's ponderously slow to change, Stalin style Communist economy was being compared unfavorably with the modern Chinese economic miracle.
Based on their actions so far, Cuba isn't going to be another China, but Raul seems to know that changes have to be made, and he isn't shrinking from the task. One of the early steps was to encourage certain private businesses. A Cuban entrepreneur could set up a small 12-seat restaurant in his home and run it as a private business. Immediately thereafter, "paladares" began springing up, and today they are some of the best places to eat in Cuba. More recently the 12-seat limit was relaxed. Result: still more restaurants.
Another early move was cell phones. They are evident today even though they cost more than most people earn. A popular way to have one is to get a relative in America to subscribe for your cell phone service. Now cell phones are becoming indispensable as they did everywhere else. They save trips in a transportation-poor economy, they stimulate business, and the entire Cuban nation is moving toward being in touch.
A big change came when people could buy and sell their cars. Newer cars as well as the old 50's era American cars can be bought and sold freely today. One wonders what the old restrictions on car sales ever did for anyone in Cuba. Today, if you have a car you don't need, you can sell it and get some money, which of course you do need.
But the biggest change of all is only a few months old. In the past you didn't own your house (even if it had been in your family for generations). The state owned it, but they allowed you to arrange trades of homes with other house dwellers. It was a slow, cumbersome procedure, but that trading loophole was how Aniplant got its headquarters in 2006. But today, in one of the biggest concessions to individual liberty since the Revolution, a Cuban can sell his house or buy a different one. If he is wealthy (not likely), he can even have a second home. This is a monumental change as it has created a real estate market, and it has put money in the citizens' pockets.
Also restrictions on private businesses have been further relaxed. Sitting in a new "paladar" for lunch last week right across the street from Radio Progresso where Nora presents her weekly radio shows, we had some great local food at ridiculously low prices. While we dined, a woman came in, approached our table, and tried to sell us a bead necklace. She was more insistent than she should have been, and the owner had to show her the door. Then two men entered separately and solicited the diners to buy their CD's with Cuban music. They were polite and the owner let them pass through and leave on their own. Finally a bicyclist pedaled by with baskets full of fresh flowers.
There you have it—4 private businesspeople trying to run their enterprises—something unimaginable when I first visited Cuba in 2005.
Finally on our way out of town to Pinar del Rio last Monday, we drove through Playa, a section of Havana, for a long time.. Suddenly I realized I was seeing crews of painters, carpenters, masons, and other workmen swarming over a number of houses along our route. And I realized I had been seeing lots of such activity all over town. Well, what would you expect? When a person knows he can sell his home, he has a valuable asset, and he moves to take care of it.
Cuba has a long way to go before it has a healthy economy again, but the signs of change for the better are there to see. Indeed I saw more change in the past year than I had seen in the previous six years. People still pay high prices for food and cope with many shortages, but at least they can buy building materials to fix the front porch or paint the house.
These long overdue changes can't be anything but good.
Les Inglis
Something is different in Cuba these days. We've been hearing about reforms since Fidel Castro stepped down for health reasons a few years ago. Younger brother, Raul Castro, didn't inherit a bed of roses when he took over the reins of the Cuban government. There were food shortages, money shortages, and Cuba's ponderously slow to change, Stalin style Communist economy was being compared unfavorably with the modern Chinese economic miracle.
Based on their actions so far, Cuba isn't going to be another China, but Raul seems to know that changes have to be made, and he isn't shrinking from the task. One of the early steps was to encourage certain private businesses. A Cuban entrepreneur could set up a small 12-seat restaurant in his home and run it as a private business. Immediately thereafter, "paladares" began springing up, and today they are some of the best places to eat in Cuba. More recently the 12-seat limit was relaxed. Result: still more restaurants.
Another early move was cell phones. They are evident today even though they cost more than most people earn. A popular way to have one is to get a relative in America to subscribe for your cell phone service. Now cell phones are becoming indispensable as they did everywhere else. They save trips in a transportation-poor economy, they stimulate business, and the entire Cuban nation is moving toward being in touch.
A big change came when people could buy and sell their cars. Newer cars as well as the old 50's era American cars can be bought and sold freely today. One wonders what the old restrictions on car sales ever did for anyone in Cuba. Today, if you have a car you don't need, you can sell it and get some money, which of course you do need.
But the biggest change of all is only a few months old. In the past you didn't own your house (even if it had been in your family for generations). The state owned it, but they allowed you to arrange trades of homes with other house dwellers. It was a slow, cumbersome procedure, but that trading loophole was how Aniplant got its headquarters in 2006. But today, in one of the biggest concessions to individual liberty since the Revolution, a Cuban can sell his house or buy a different one. If he is wealthy (not likely), he can even have a second home. This is a monumental change as it has created a real estate market, and it has put money in the citizens' pockets.
Also restrictions on private businesses have been further relaxed. Sitting in a new "paladar" for lunch last week right across the street from Radio Progresso where Nora presents her weekly radio shows, we had some great local food at ridiculously low prices. While we dined, a woman came in, approached our table, and tried to sell us a bead necklace. She was more insistent than she should have been, and the owner had to show her the door. Then two men entered separately and solicited the diners to buy their CD's with Cuban music. They were polite and the owner let them pass through and leave on their own. Finally a bicyclist pedaled by with baskets full of fresh flowers.
There you have it—4 private businesspeople trying to run their enterprises—something unimaginable when I first visited Cuba in 2005.
Finally on our way out of town to Pinar del Rio last Monday, we drove through Playa, a section of Havana, for a long time.. Suddenly I realized I was seeing crews of painters, carpenters, masons, and other workmen swarming over a number of houses along our route. And I realized I had been seeing lots of such activity all over town. Well, what would you expect? When a person knows he can sell his home, he has a valuable asset, and he moves to take care of it.
Cuba has a long way to go before it has a healthy economy again, but the signs of change for the better are there to see. Indeed I saw more change in the past year than I had seen in the previous six years. People still pay high prices for food and cope with many shortages, but at least they can buy building materials to fix the front porch or paint the house.
These long overdue changes can't be anything but good.
Les Inglis
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Angela and Bella's Reunion
Angela and Bella's Reunion
In late 2011, I devoted two of these blogs to Bella, a sick little stray dog trying to live on tourists' handouts near Old Havana's Plaza de las Armas. Angela, an animal loving flight attendant from England, spotted her and tried to feed her. She was pretty pitiful, and probably wouldn't have lasted long if no one had helped her.
Angela was on a two day layover in Cuba, so she couldn't do much, but she got on her computer and found us as soon as she got back home. With a rapid reaction from Nora, Bella was found, given food and medical care, and adopted into the group of dogs who live at the Aniplant headquarters. Soon she was well and happy and not hungry anymore. If it had not been for Angela, Bella would certainly have perished.
Well, since then Angela had been angling for another trip with a layover in Cuba, and she finally got one. She and her mom got there in early 2012. After the visit, Angela seems as happy as Bella is. Following is Angela's letter describing her reunion with Bella:
Hello,
Mum & I have just got back from a fantastic trip to Havana. I have been dying to email you both but I had no wifi out there.
On the first day we went to the Aniplant HQ. There was a bit of a language barrier at first but when we mentioned Nora & Bella we were invited in. We were greeted by a pack of happy waggy-tailed gorgeous dogs. It was amazing and quite emotional. Bella was there, looking gorgeous and so healthy. Alo Presidente came over making a fuss - what a lovely dog he is.
Then Nora arrived - she was exactly how I imagined her. We spoke through a translator - explaining the bags of stuff we had brought; a lot of it had belonged to my mum & dads dog Abbie, my mum had washed them all. We brought loads of toys, collar & leads, dog feeding & water bowls but the dogs favourites were the treats!
It took them 30 seconds to realise what the foreign treats were - each dog was different with them. Alo Presidente was taking his and hiding them which appeared to be a smart move until Bella found his hiding place!!!
We went back the following day. It was lovely how welcome we were made to feel. Also we couldn't believe the difference in the place - they are working so hard for the Aniplant anniversary. Nora was showing us the pictures for the wall.
It was quite emotional leaving. I was desperate to bring Bella home again but it was different leaving her this time as I know she is very happy where she is with her pack of friends and she is getting so much love there.
Also we noticed a huge difference in the stray dogs on the street in just 16 months. Last time we saw one dog on a lead - this time we saw 20+. The things that did upset us though were the thin horses standing most of the time without water and on one main street were people selling extremely young puppies in small cages and birds. I noted the street this was happening on but I don't suppose anything can be done about that?
I have loads of photos & videos to email but I haven't uploaded them yet. I just wanted to email and say a huge thank you again for Bella or 'Belia' as she is known there! And to say how lovely Nora and the rest of the people out there, not forgetting the four legged friends. We can't wait to go back!
Best wishes,
Angela
Les' note: No blog next week—I'm going to Cuba to take part in Aniplant's 25th anniversary celebration on March 4, 2012. More after I return.
Les Inglis
In late 2011, I devoted two of these blogs to Bella, a sick little stray dog trying to live on tourists' handouts near Old Havana's Plaza de las Armas. Angela, an animal loving flight attendant from England, spotted her and tried to feed her. She was pretty pitiful, and probably wouldn't have lasted long if no one had helped her.
Angela was on a two day layover in Cuba, so she couldn't do much, but she got on her computer and found us as soon as she got back home. With a rapid reaction from Nora, Bella was found, given food and medical care, and adopted into the group of dogs who live at the Aniplant headquarters. Soon she was well and happy and not hungry anymore. If it had not been for Angela, Bella would certainly have perished.
Well, since then Angela had been angling for another trip with a layover in Cuba, and she finally got one. She and her mom got there in early 2012. After the visit, Angela seems as happy as Bella is. Following is Angela's letter describing her reunion with Bella:
Hello,
Mum & I have just got back from a fantastic trip to Havana. I have been dying to email you both but I had no wifi out there.
On the first day we went to the Aniplant HQ. There was a bit of a language barrier at first but when we mentioned Nora & Bella we were invited in. We were greeted by a pack of happy waggy-tailed gorgeous dogs. It was amazing and quite emotional. Bella was there, looking gorgeous and so healthy. Alo Presidente came over making a fuss - what a lovely dog he is.
Then Nora arrived - she was exactly how I imagined her. We spoke through a translator - explaining the bags of stuff we had brought; a lot of it had belonged to my mum & dads dog Abbie, my mum had washed them all. We brought loads of toys, collar & leads, dog feeding & water bowls but the dogs favourites were the treats!
It took them 30 seconds to realise what the foreign treats were - each dog was different with them. Alo Presidente was taking his and hiding them which appeared to be a smart move until Bella found his hiding place!!!
We went back the following day. It was lovely how welcome we were made to feel. Also we couldn't believe the difference in the place - they are working so hard for the Aniplant anniversary. Nora was showing us the pictures for the wall.
It was quite emotional leaving. I was desperate to bring Bella home again but it was different leaving her this time as I know she is very happy where she is with her pack of friends and she is getting so much love there.
Also we noticed a huge difference in the stray dogs on the street in just 16 months. Last time we saw one dog on a lead - this time we saw 20+. The things that did upset us though were the thin horses standing most of the time without water and on one main street were people selling extremely young puppies in small cages and birds. I noted the street this was happening on but I don't suppose anything can be done about that?
I have loads of photos & videos to email but I haven't uploaded them yet. I just wanted to email and say a huge thank you again for Bella or 'Belia' as she is known there! And to say how lovely Nora and the rest of the people out there, not forgetting the four legged friends. We can't wait to go back!
Best wishes,
Angela
Les' note: No blog next week—I'm going to Cuba to take part in Aniplant's 25th anniversary celebration on March 4, 2012. More after I return.
Les Inglis
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Oh Danny Boy, We Loved You So
Oh Danny Boy, We Loved You So
Today is one of those days I'll remember for the rest of my life—not that I want to. We woke a little early to the dogs milling around in our bedroom as usual. But when Charlene prepared to take them downstairs and let them outside, she noticed Danny was still laying in one of his usual spots. She raised her voice to wake him, as he has recently shown some loss of hearing, but to no avail. Danny, our beloved Border Collie had passed away.
We knew it was only a matter of minutes he had been gone as he was still warm and supple. The sad truth gradually enveloped us, and we sat in our living room crying. It was a struggle to get this 60 pound friend down the stairs and into the trunk of my car. He had one more trip to make—to the vet's where his cremation was arranged.
Danny was a few days shy of his thirteenth birthday when he died. Just yesterday, he had been completely normal, and he enthusiastically played catch with me in the back yard—as he did every day of his life with us. At dinnertime last night he attacked his food and polished it off in less than a minute, also completely normal for him.
Danny would be one of the throng of dogs barking at the front door whenever we had visitors. He was the only one of the three who would quiet down on command, and you could observe his herding instincts as he harmlessly nipped at the others until they were quiet too.
We knew how old he was as he had AKC papers—not a source of pride for us. His first owners got him as a puppy, and his medical care came from the vet we shared with them. He was boarded at the vet's office when his master needed surgery more than three years ago. Then he lost his master who died on the operating table, and our vet, on hearing of this situation, showed him to us. It was a great favor to Danny that he did so, as the next day his mistress, who never cared for him, collected him from the vet and left him at the local humane society.
We had talked about Danny the evening of the day we first saw him, and we decided that there was room in our home for a third dog, but he was already gone from the vet's when we called the next morning. We weren't sure which shelter he was in, but we made a few calls and found him right away. We said we wanted him and arranged to pick him up that afternoon. When we got there, he was in a cage in their reception area. He wiggled and wagged and looked at me full of expectation—not sad, but ecstatically happy. He knew right then the rest of his life would be happy.
Thus began a classic tale of love among a dog, a man, and a woman. Every morning he would round the end of my bed and bow as soon as he heard me stirring. To every visitor who sat in our living room, he presented a ball and asked to play catch. I say he trained me to play catch, as I certainly didn't train him. Danny didn't need training for anything, as he always seemed to know what you wanted him to do. Throughout the day he would move from room to room with me, and at mealtimes, he was always lying by my chair.
Yesterday there were eleven souls living in our house, counting the six cats. But today that number was reduced to ten. And it feels so lonely, so still and silent, as I sit here writing this. It was a blessing to have known and loved this special creature. Now, through this blog I hope many others can feel they know him too. Like a dozen others so loved in our family over the years, we thought of him as the best dog ever.
Les Inglis
Today is one of those days I'll remember for the rest of my life—not that I want to. We woke a little early to the dogs milling around in our bedroom as usual. But when Charlene prepared to take them downstairs and let them outside, she noticed Danny was still laying in one of his usual spots. She raised her voice to wake him, as he has recently shown some loss of hearing, but to no avail. Danny, our beloved Border Collie had passed away.
We knew it was only a matter of minutes he had been gone as he was still warm and supple. The sad truth gradually enveloped us, and we sat in our living room crying. It was a struggle to get this 60 pound friend down the stairs and into the trunk of my car. He had one more trip to make—to the vet's where his cremation was arranged.
Danny was a few days shy of his thirteenth birthday when he died. Just yesterday, he had been completely normal, and he enthusiastically played catch with me in the back yard—as he did every day of his life with us. At dinnertime last night he attacked his food and polished it off in less than a minute, also completely normal for him.
Danny would be one of the throng of dogs barking at the front door whenever we had visitors. He was the only one of the three who would quiet down on command, and you could observe his herding instincts as he harmlessly nipped at the others until they were quiet too.
We knew how old he was as he had AKC papers—not a source of pride for us. His first owners got him as a puppy, and his medical care came from the vet we shared with them. He was boarded at the vet's office when his master needed surgery more than three years ago. Then he lost his master who died on the operating table, and our vet, on hearing of this situation, showed him to us. It was a great favor to Danny that he did so, as the next day his mistress, who never cared for him, collected him from the vet and left him at the local humane society.
We had talked about Danny the evening of the day we first saw him, and we decided that there was room in our home for a third dog, but he was already gone from the vet's when we called the next morning. We weren't sure which shelter he was in, but we made a few calls and found him right away. We said we wanted him and arranged to pick him up that afternoon. When we got there, he was in a cage in their reception area. He wiggled and wagged and looked at me full of expectation—not sad, but ecstatically happy. He knew right then the rest of his life would be happy.
Thus began a classic tale of love among a dog, a man, and a woman. Every morning he would round the end of my bed and bow as soon as he heard me stirring. To every visitor who sat in our living room, he presented a ball and asked to play catch. I say he trained me to play catch, as I certainly didn't train him. Danny didn't need training for anything, as he always seemed to know what you wanted him to do. Throughout the day he would move from room to room with me, and at mealtimes, he was always lying by my chair.
Yesterday there were eleven souls living in our house, counting the six cats. But today that number was reduced to ten. And it feels so lonely, so still and silent, as I sit here writing this. It was a blessing to have known and loved this special creature. Now, through this blog I hope many others can feel they know him too. Like a dozen others so loved in our family over the years, we thought of him as the best dog ever.
Les Inglis
Friday, February 10, 2012
Voodoo Killer
VooDoo Killer
In Puerto Rico and some nearby places, a nocturnal predator lurks in the mountains and descends into the nighttime darkness to kill and consume small farm animals like goats, chickens and sheep. Other places near Puerto Rico with reported sightings of this beast include Dominican Republic, Cuba, Bahamas, Florida, and Texas.
This menace is the subject of many drawings and a few photographs, but what pictures exist show scary looking things. Some look like lizards, and others seem more like hairless dogs with very large teeth. A few are flying creatures.
As most of the sightings of this animal have been in Spanish speaking lands, it is not surprising it has attracted a Spanish name. Farmers call it "el chupacabras," a composite Spanish word meaning "sucker" (chupra) of "goats" (cabras) as its victims, often goats, are usually found drained of blood. The name gives rise to the idea the animal is a vampire living on the blood of other animals. Go into a bar in the Dominican Republic, and ask for a chupacabra, and you might get a drink made from tequila and pepper sauce.
If you talk with the campesinos (farmers) in the islands, el chupracabras is not a joke. It is lost income in a place where wealth is more likely measured by the number of animals you own than by the money in your pocket. Any farmer who has come upon a dead goat in one of his pens will testify el chupracabras exists and prowls the farmlands to the detriment of his herds. But you won't find its name in any textbook on animal husbandry or any natural history museum or in any zoo.
So, are we talking about another unicorn or centaur? Is the chupracabra really up there in the mountains or only up there in our imaginations. It's just so easy to dream up an explanation for a loss of valuable property, and humans seem to have a tendency to spread and magnify and mythologize that which we can't otherwise explain, so el chupracabras could be just a figment of many farmers' imaginations.
But then again…
Les Inglis
In Puerto Rico and some nearby places, a nocturnal predator lurks in the mountains and descends into the nighttime darkness to kill and consume small farm animals like goats, chickens and sheep. Other places near Puerto Rico with reported sightings of this beast include Dominican Republic, Cuba, Bahamas, Florida, and Texas.
This menace is the subject of many drawings and a few photographs, but what pictures exist show scary looking things. Some look like lizards, and others seem more like hairless dogs with very large teeth. A few are flying creatures.
As most of the sightings of this animal have been in Spanish speaking lands, it is not surprising it has attracted a Spanish name. Farmers call it "el chupacabras," a composite Spanish word meaning "sucker" (chupra) of "goats" (cabras) as its victims, often goats, are usually found drained of blood. The name gives rise to the idea the animal is a vampire living on the blood of other animals. Go into a bar in the Dominican Republic, and ask for a chupacabra, and you might get a drink made from tequila and pepper sauce.
If you talk with the campesinos (farmers) in the islands, el chupracabras is not a joke. It is lost income in a place where wealth is more likely measured by the number of animals you own than by the money in your pocket. Any farmer who has come upon a dead goat in one of his pens will testify el chupracabras exists and prowls the farmlands to the detriment of his herds. But you won't find its name in any textbook on animal husbandry or any natural history museum or in any zoo.
So, are we talking about another unicorn or centaur? Is the chupracabra really up there in the mountains or only up there in our imaginations. It's just so easy to dream up an explanation for a loss of valuable property, and humans seem to have a tendency to spread and magnify and mythologize that which we can't otherwise explain, so el chupracabras could be just a figment of many farmers' imaginations.
But then again…
Les Inglis
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Time Capsule
Time Capsule
In 2006, while staying at Havana's Hotel Nacional, I met an interesting man named Dr. David Guggenheim. David is a marine researcher. He studies marine life including corals in the seas around Cuba as part of his duties as the Director of The Cuban Marine Research and Conservation Program of The Ocean Foundation.
David and I had a few conversations about his work in Cuba, and his insights helped shape my ideas on the unique opportunity Cuba has to make a real contribution to marine science in particular and to natural conservation in general.
David pointed out Cuba is like a time capsule sealed away inside of the cornerstone of an old building. Time capsules contain little bits of our lives at the time the building construction begins. Presumably, in 50 or 100 years, when the capsule is opened future people can see tangible tokens of the way life was way back when.
David's comments were aimed at explaining the state of the natural environment of Cuba and the seas around it. For 50 years or more, Cuba has been somewhat sealed off from the rest of the world in many ways. In particular, much of the rest of the world has spent the last 50+ years in a hell-bent race for development and industrialization, but not Cuba, where much of the environment is like it was in 1959.
You could say that now Cuba is coming into the modern world. Modern hotels are springing up on the beaches, and even this week we heard of a huge Spanish oil rig beginning to drill in the Florida Straits just 70 miles from Key West. But David points out tht much of Cuba's natural treasures are still there to be seen. Protecting them should be an obligation for Cuba and for nature lovers everywhere.
Actually, within the Cuban government is an appreciation and willingness to protect the country's natural treasures. David himself told me how difficult it is for him to ger licenses and permission to enter vast protected undersea locations. He also talked about how there are many natural preserves like the Zapata swamp and Cayo Coco and Las Terrazas, a UNESCO Biosphere Reserve. But, there remain many more valuable natural areas which could become natural preserves. Now is the time to act while the land values are low and development has not ruined them.
I recently saw a one hour TV show on David's work showing some of Cuba's natural wonders including a rare type of coral that still grows in no other part of the world. The show just renewed my hopes that this natural time capsule—a place with little development during a period of 50 years of helter-skelter development in the rest of the world—will somehow be saved. At least we have some hope that it can happen.
The plants and animals of Cuba are so precious, and the island has a staggering variety from Cuban Crocodiles to Ebony trees. Wouldn't it be great to be able to visit them alive in their natural settings?
Les Inglis
In 2006, while staying at Havana's Hotel Nacional, I met an interesting man named Dr. David Guggenheim. David is a marine researcher. He studies marine life including corals in the seas around Cuba as part of his duties as the Director of The Cuban Marine Research and Conservation Program of The Ocean Foundation.
David and I had a few conversations about his work in Cuba, and his insights helped shape my ideas on the unique opportunity Cuba has to make a real contribution to marine science in particular and to natural conservation in general.
David pointed out Cuba is like a time capsule sealed away inside of the cornerstone of an old building. Time capsules contain little bits of our lives at the time the building construction begins. Presumably, in 50 or 100 years, when the capsule is opened future people can see tangible tokens of the way life was way back when.
David's comments were aimed at explaining the state of the natural environment of Cuba and the seas around it. For 50 years or more, Cuba has been somewhat sealed off from the rest of the world in many ways. In particular, much of the rest of the world has spent the last 50+ years in a hell-bent race for development and industrialization, but not Cuba, where much of the environment is like it was in 1959.
You could say that now Cuba is coming into the modern world. Modern hotels are springing up on the beaches, and even this week we heard of a huge Spanish oil rig beginning to drill in the Florida Straits just 70 miles from Key West. But David points out tht much of Cuba's natural treasures are still there to be seen. Protecting them should be an obligation for Cuba and for nature lovers everywhere.
Actually, within the Cuban government is an appreciation and willingness to protect the country's natural treasures. David himself told me how difficult it is for him to ger licenses and permission to enter vast protected undersea locations. He also talked about how there are many natural preserves like the Zapata swamp and Cayo Coco and Las Terrazas, a UNESCO Biosphere Reserve. But, there remain many more valuable natural areas which could become natural preserves. Now is the time to act while the land values are low and development has not ruined them.
I recently saw a one hour TV show on David's work showing some of Cuba's natural wonders including a rare type of coral that still grows in no other part of the world. The show just renewed my hopes that this natural time capsule—a place with little development during a period of 50 years of helter-skelter development in the rest of the world—will somehow be saved. At least we have some hope that it can happen.
The plants and animals of Cuba are so precious, and the island has a staggering variety from Cuban Crocodiles to Ebony trees. Wouldn't it be great to be able to visit them alive in their natural settings?
Les Inglis
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