Cuban Art & Living

My interpreter, José tells lots of stories about life in Cuba, sometimes moving to the edge of laughter and tears at the same time.  Last week, pointing out a cannabalised trash can, he said, ”Ask anybody in Havana who takes their garbage to the curb about the enterprising spirit, here.” 

It seems the sturdy metal wheels of the country’s large plastic trash cans had been going missing, one and two at a time.  After a little while, they starting reappearing on all manner of things like toys, tricycles and delivery carts.  The system was silent about this.  After all, everybody knows the economy would collapse if the black market suddenly disappeared.

But when the wheels started showing up in schools around the country, the government got involved.  Many of the small trucks that transport school lunches from the central kitchens often a mile or two away, are breaking down and staying down.  Into the vacuum appears sturdy handcarts sporting “the” wheels.

I got out of the car, my camera trained on the sad can propped on the curb with two of its four wheels missing, thinking positively about how the creation of one problem can ironically solve a different problem.
 
“But,” José said, “They confiscated the carts out of the schools…all of them.” 

“So, how will the children get their lunches now?”

“The government said until they can come up with a solution, the schools should appoint however many teachers it takes to walk to the central kitchen, to get the lunches.”

“And the trash cans…what happens when all the wheels are gone?”

“They are thinking of getting metal trash cans so they can weld the wheels on.”

We stared at the hapless can in silence for a second, thinking how the government has not one, but two problems, now…non-portable trash cans and teachers spending less time in the classroom.  If they are going to get all new trash cans, why not just leave the lunch carts in the schools?  

“Well,” José smiled only a little, ”This is the Cuban way.”