We headed back toward our hotel along Obispo Street, which is one of the three most interesting streets in Havana, along with the Malecon and the Paseo del Prado. Lots of bars, restaurants and shops, it's always vibrant, but never so crowded you can't get through.
I needed some water, so we stopped at an outdoor cafe. A couple people hit us up for money, but we waved them off. It's what New York City will be if Bill de Blasio gets re-elected. A couple of guys at the next table heard we were from Virginia. Turns out while they live in LA now, one grew up in Petersburg.
Even wilder is that he graduated from Elon University, where our youngest, Torie, will graduate this coming spring. Anyhow, in between the street music, we talked. This is their third time to Cuba, and they are as drawn to the vibrancy and energy as we are. They are gutsier, as they are in country for ten days, plan to travel around, but have no specific plans. They may rent a car (good luck!) or even hitchhike.
Anyhow, it was neat to run into them, and we wished them good travels as we left.
We relaxed for a little while at the hotel, showering off the grime and heat of the day. Charlie and Lucy joined us for drinks at the hotel bar on the roof -- and we enjoyed the same sweeping views we enjoyed the night before.
We cabbed over to dinner at a restaurant Charlie requested we eat at again. Just a few blocks from the Hotel Nacional, the Paladar Cafe Laurent is an open air restaurant on the fifth (top) floor of an apartment building. We had eaten there in 2016, and were happy to go back. Like Restaurant Vistamar, do not hesitate to go when you are in Havana.
Not surprisingly, Charlie and Lucy Cook make excellent travelling companions -- we really enjoyed their company the entire trip. They had stayed for the second panel (sorry, I'm in Havana -- I wanted to do more sightseeing, and be grifted!). Anyhow, we caught each other up on the day's events, and talked into the night.
Carol and I walked back with the Cooks to the Hotel Nacional, where the two of us caught a convertible back to our Hotel Saratoga.
As the highly entertaining Brian Setzer would say:
Jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way
Oh, what fun it is to ride
In a '57 Chevrolet
There are few things better than riding along the Malecon in a convertible from the 1950s, and then up the Paseo del Prado. You literally feel like King of the World, even if you don't have to die later in the North Atlantic.
We went up to the rooftop bar again, and capped off the trip with a nice Italian red. I will spare you, dear readers, the monotony of the trip to the airport, the fun with Cuban immigration, and the inconsequential flights back.
One more vignette I forgot to share early before I wrap this puppy up:
We were in our old Chevy on the way to dinner in Cienfuegos when we stopped at one of the only lights in town. A local fellow walked by with a NY football Giants t-shirt on. I rolled down my window, shouting "Go Giants!" (they were in the process of beating the snot out of the Redskins 40-16).
The gentleman looked befuddled, so I pointed at the shirt and helpfully shouted "Go Giants" even louder (added volume always aids language understanding!). He grasped what the American fool in the car was saying, popped his shirt, and then we fist bumped.
I don't want to claim I caused a little more world peace and understanding in that moment, but, looking back on it, I actually did.
The moment was, like Cuba is, magic. Pure vibrant magic.
Monday, December 17, 2018
Two Shots That Sum Up The Best of Havana
There are plenty of run-down, falling down
buildings. But, at the same time, there is
plenty of stunning splendor to enjoy.
Street musicians entertaining outside a cafe.
Taken
Were we grifted a second time in the same day, or was it just another case of kidnapping with tribute paid to Havana pirates?
(Editor's Note: Uh, neither option sounds very pretty.)
Well dear readers (and editor who only exists in my mind), I will tell the story and you decide.
We hung out a bit in the outer courtyard of the Castillo de la Real Fuerza, a UNESCO World Heritage site and widely considered to be the oldest stone fort in the Americas. It's very cool, with views of the stone fortification walls across the narrow channel of Havana Bay by el Morro and El Christo de La Habana -- the huge statue of Christ.
(The dedication of the statue of Christ is said to be the last public act of Batista as Fidel Castro's revolutionaries closed in -- Batista fled to the Dominican Republic just days after the dedication.)
There's a cool contemporary sculpture there too, as well as cannons and other ancient weapons of mass destruction.
The fort itself is a great example of wasteful military spending, as the fort's location was deemed a failure. It was too far into the bay to protect Havana, so eventually two more forts had to be built to protect the harbor. There are no known reports of $100 hammers or $300 toilet seats, but even still, imagine building a fort to realize upon completion that it is in the wrong place (and too small to boot!).
We entered into the fort, and that's where the trouble began. The tour guides kept pestering us to give them my camera so they could take our picture. Flattering us when we were not in the mood to be flattered. I walked out of that part of the fortress, but somehow three guides took Carol's phone from her.
Then, they wouldn't give it back until she gave them each a dollar. Carol came and found me. I had no singles, so I gave her a five.
In my head, I stormed back and said this to the guides:
I know what you are thinking. You are thinking -- hey, this is ridiculous that some tour guides in a government building, a UNESCO World Heritage site at that, could take someone's phone (and attempt to take the camera) and not give it back until a king's ransom (okay, five dollars) was paid.
Well, you are right. It is ridiculous.
(Let's face it, you are also thinking -- "Glen, what special skills would you have developed over your long career as a pollster that would help in this situation?" Well, hey, it was a phone after all!)
It's also annoying that the people in charge have to know this is going on, and they have not stopped it. Now, if you've been reading the blog and thinking about going to Cuba -- go, definitely. We still love Havana and Cuba, and most of the people are good folks. But do keep your guard up.
The incident spoiled the rest of our visit to the fort, despite amazing views from the top floor of the fort.
So, was this the third time we had been grifted in two trips to Cuba, and twice in the same day? Probably. Funny thing is, I've kind of shrugged it off, and I would still recommend you go.
Keeping some perspective, we had to pay about $15 dollars total for the two grifting incidents that last day in Havana.
(Editor's Note: Uh, neither option sounds very pretty.)
Well dear readers (and editor who only exists in my mind), I will tell the story and you decide.
We hung out a bit in the outer courtyard of the Castillo de la Real Fuerza, a UNESCO World Heritage site and widely considered to be the oldest stone fort in the Americas. It's very cool, with views of the stone fortification walls across the narrow channel of Havana Bay by el Morro and El Christo de La Habana -- the huge statue of Christ.
(The dedication of the statue of Christ is said to be the last public act of Batista as Fidel Castro's revolutionaries closed in -- Batista fled to the Dominican Republic just days after the dedication.)
There's a cool contemporary sculpture there too, as well as cannons and other ancient weapons of mass destruction.
The fort itself is a great example of wasteful military spending, as the fort's location was deemed a failure. It was too far into the bay to protect Havana, so eventually two more forts had to be built to protect the harbor. There are no known reports of $100 hammers or $300 toilet seats, but even still, imagine building a fort to realize upon completion that it is in the wrong place (and too small to boot!).
We entered into the fort, and that's where the trouble began. The tour guides kept pestering us to give them my camera so they could take our picture. Flattering us when we were not in the mood to be flattered. I walked out of that part of the fortress, but somehow three guides took Carol's phone from her.
Then, they wouldn't give it back until she gave them each a dollar. Carol came and found me. I had no singles, so I gave her a five.
In my head, I stormed back and said this to the guides:
"I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I can tell you I don't have money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills, skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you let my wife's phone go now, that'll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you."But, that's not what happened. Carol gave them the money and took her phone back at the same time.
I know what you are thinking. You are thinking -- hey, this is ridiculous that some tour guides in a government building, a UNESCO World Heritage site at that, could take someone's phone (and attempt to take the camera) and not give it back until a king's ransom (okay, five dollars) was paid.
Well, you are right. It is ridiculous.
(Let's face it, you are also thinking -- "Glen, what special skills would you have developed over your long career as a pollster that would help in this situation?" Well, hey, it was a phone after all!)
It's also annoying that the people in charge have to know this is going on, and they have not stopped it. Now, if you've been reading the blog and thinking about going to Cuba -- go, definitely. We still love Havana and Cuba, and most of the people are good folks. But do keep your guard up.
The incident spoiled the rest of our visit to the fort, despite amazing views from the top floor of the fort.
So, was this the third time we had been grifted in two trips to Cuba, and twice in the same day? Probably. Funny thing is, I've kind of shrugged it off, and I would still recommend you go.
Keeping some perspective, we had to pay about $15 dollars total for the two grifting incidents that last day in Havana.
Castillo de la Fuerza
Built from 1562-1577, this fort is considered
the oldest stone fort in the Americas.
The famed moat still has water in it.
I'm pretty sure this sculpture
is not part of the original fort.
Freighter going through the channel of
Havana Bay, with walled fortifications
of El Morro on the hill behind it.
El Cristo de La Habana.
It stands 66 feet high.
The crest of the fort above the drawbridge.
The Cuban flag, with the El Morro's
fortress walls behind it.
The lighthouse at the entrance
to the Bay, with El Morro.
Given she had to pay ransome to get her
phone back, Carol's slightly grumpy look
here is understandable.
The Cuban Navy ship is in the harbor now.
This Might Be The Coolest Building In Havana
Careful readers of the blog noticed I said "this might be the coolest building in Havana" and wonder why I couched it with "might." That's easy -- I haven't been in all buildings in Havana. Of course, reckless readers blew right past that subtle nuance and really don't care about my carefully constructed headline. That's okay -- "you do you" as the Millennials would say.
(It's okay -- my daughters would tell you I'm an honorary Millennial. Wait for it. . .)
(There is it. . .that high-pitching howling you hear right now is my daughters screaming like they are on a bridge in Oslo, as painted by Edvard Munch -- in case you didn't catch the analogy.)
Anyhow, the very cool building I refer to is the Palacio de los Capitanes Generales on east side of the Plaza de Armas. Completed in 1792, it served as the residence of the Spanish governor of Cuba, and then later spent 18 years as the first President's Palace of Cuba, till 1920.
The marble came from Genoa, the grillwork from Bilbao, and the bricks from Malaga. Built by slaves, it also housed a prison for 40 years. The first floor has a limestone facade with multiple marine fossils embedded. Built in a Cuban Baroque style, it's quite the building.
The courtyard is striking, with palm trees, other tropical plants, and a statue of Christopher Columbus occupying it. We had gone into the courtyard in 2016, but no further. This time, we paid the four CUCs to go in. We went upstairs, where every room was interesting.
A tour guide glommed onto us, and gave Carol a tour in Spanish., with some modest English thrown in. She took us through the rooms that were still preserved with a lot of the original furniture and decoration. It had collections from everywhere, and gave off a "poor man's Versailles" vibe as it were.
I would have figured that this sort of thing would have been destroyed by the commies after the revolution, but I would have been wrong. It's neat the way the history has been preserved. Other parts of the building were other museums, but after having tipped this guide for the rooms she took us through, we would accelerate past guides in other parts of the museum so we would not have to take their tour and tip them too.
(The first guide was great, and we didn't mind tipping her, but we also didn't want to spread money around in the less interesting portions of the building. Given our speed getting past the other guides, I won't say how many NFL teams have expressed an interest in me trying out for wide receiver, but let's just say my agent is happy I have choices.)
After going through the palace, we walked back out onto the street bordering the Plaza, just as an Afro-Cuban band and female dancers on stilts came by. Dressed in stunningly colorful costumes, they put on quite a show.
We walked across the plaza to the Castillo de la Real Fuerza.
(It's okay -- my daughters would tell you I'm an honorary Millennial. Wait for it. . .)
(There is it. . .that high-pitching howling you hear right now is my daughters screaming like they are on a bridge in Oslo, as painted by Edvard Munch -- in case you didn't catch the analogy.)
Anyhow, the very cool building I refer to is the Palacio de los Capitanes Generales on east side of the Plaza de Armas. Completed in 1792, it served as the residence of the Spanish governor of Cuba, and then later spent 18 years as the first President's Palace of Cuba, till 1920.
The marble came from Genoa, the grillwork from Bilbao, and the bricks from Malaga. Built by slaves, it also housed a prison for 40 years. The first floor has a limestone facade with multiple marine fossils embedded. Built in a Cuban Baroque style, it's quite the building.
The courtyard is striking, with palm trees, other tropical plants, and a statue of Christopher Columbus occupying it. We had gone into the courtyard in 2016, but no further. This time, we paid the four CUCs to go in. We went upstairs, where every room was interesting.
A tour guide glommed onto us, and gave Carol a tour in Spanish., with some modest English thrown in. She took us through the rooms that were still preserved with a lot of the original furniture and decoration. It had collections from everywhere, and gave off a "poor man's Versailles" vibe as it were.
I would have figured that this sort of thing would have been destroyed by the commies after the revolution, but I would have been wrong. It's neat the way the history has been preserved. Other parts of the building were other museums, but after having tipped this guide for the rooms she took us through, we would accelerate past guides in other parts of the museum so we would not have to take their tour and tip them too.
(The first guide was great, and we didn't mind tipping her, but we also didn't want to spread money around in the less interesting portions of the building. Given our speed getting past the other guides, I won't say how many NFL teams have expressed an interest in me trying out for wide receiver, but let's just say my agent is happy I have choices.)
After going through the palace, we walked back out onto the street bordering the Plaza, just as an Afro-Cuban band and female dancers on stilts came by. Dressed in stunningly colorful costumes, they put on quite a show.
We walked across the plaza to the Castillo de la Real Fuerza.
In the Palacio de los Capitanes Generales
Wow -- we have one
of these at home too!
(Fact check: False!)
Any building with a courtyard and arches
is very cool, unless the arches are golden.
Not exactly the Stray Dog Strut.
One of the room at the Palace
These porcelain figures were viewed as god-like, and
visitors had to bow to them. Hence the expression,
"bow to the porcelain god." Wait a minute, Carol
needs to tell me something. . .oh, ignore that whole
story. Apparently that's NOT where the expression
comes from. Sorry.
The Spanish Queen's throne in Cuba. She never
came to the New World, so it never got used.
Pretty cool.
This is the room where the end of
Spanish rule of Cuba was declared
back in 1899.
All four legs of the table
had a different carved dog.
Carol promises to paint our dining
room in a similar fashion.
Another view of the cool courtyard and arches.
Someone asked me archly, "Don't you have
enough photos of arches?" Actually, no
such thing as too many photos of arches.
Christopher Columbus,
looking like a boss.
Very cool Afro-Cuban style entertainment outside
of the Palace on the east side of Plaza de Armas.
Taking Our Minds, And Stomachs, Off Being Grifted
On our way to lunch at Terrazza Gourmet restaurant, we walked past the Capitolio, which was built with mob money and modeled after the US Capitol. Alas, we still haven't made it there, so it will move to the top of the list next time we go!
We found our way to Terrazza, but not easily. We walked past it twice, as there was no sign out front. There were other restaurants, but when we walked in, they took us upstairs on an elevator (a rare thing in Cuba).
Right on the third floor of at the top of the Paseo del Prado, it was yet another great restaurant in a cool setting. Carol had the leg of lamb, while I had a skewer of grilled pork. The lamb fell right off the bone, and the skewer is nearly the length of a Viking broadsword. (Okay, I exaggerate a bit, but I sure did not get shorted.) It was a good place to put our grifter troubles behind us.
We found our way to Terrazza, but not easily. We walked past it twice, as there was no sign out front. There were other restaurants, but when we walked in, they took us upstairs on an elevator (a rare thing in Cuba).
Right on the third floor of at the top of the Paseo del Prado, it was yet another great restaurant in a cool setting. Carol had the leg of lamb, while I had a skewer of grilled pork. The lamb fell right off the bone, and the skewer is nearly the length of a Viking broadsword. (Okay, I exaggerate a bit, but I sure did not get shorted.) It was a good place to put our grifter troubles behind us.
Post-Grifting Stroll
The building in the foreground
is about to fall apart. The taller
building in the back is stunning.
On top of the Gran Teatro
Truly a green building, as
a tree is growing out of it.
There are angels among us.
I don't know what this is,
but I think it is cool.
Lion at the top of Paseo del Prado.
Part of the view from our restaurant.
Sunday, December 16, 2018
Grifters In Cuba: 2. Bolgers: 0
Being taken advantage of by a grifter isn't all bad, provided we get something out of it. And both things happened on our post-conference stroll.
A grifter, since some have asked, is a con artist who swindles people out of money through fraud. Is being misled the same as fraud? I don't know, but both Carol and I like the word, and figure it is close enough, that we were grifted is our story, and we're sticking to it.
Two years ago, we were also grifted in Cuba. If you want to read about it, here's the link. And, if you want to read my entire Cuba blog (or chunks of it anyhow) from 2016, here's that link.
(Should I be insulted that, in copying both links, Google warns that I shouldn't trust the link? Editor's Note: Yes, yes, you should be insulted.)
Anyhow, we had nearly an hour to kill before lunch, so we thought we would stroll around the local parks, take some pictures, and then spend some time in the Capitol building. I had taken some pictures, including of a really cool sculpture with fantastical looking sea creatures when we were on our way to take a picture of the Lincoln bust in the Plaza de La Fraternidad just across from our hotel.
Suddenly a very friendly older Afro Cuban started talking to us. To gain our trust, he said a couple of things. First, that he is a professor of percussion at the local music conservancy and plays at a famed nightclub, the Buena Vista Social Club. Second, that he wanted to improve his English by talking to us. Third, that he wanted no money to show us some sights off the beaten path, such as fruit & vegetable market that was only for Cubans.
He was quite the hail fellow well met, so we followed him a few blocks to a part of Havana that is off the beaten path for tourists. The market was interesting enough -- he stressed that it was for Cubans only; we Americans could not buy anything there, just take pictures.
I did get a great picture of a vendor smoking a big Cuban cigar -- the lighting was rough, but the picture speaks volumes. I haven't seen a food vendor smoking a cigar in his stall here in the US since, well, I don't know. The 1970s maybe? (The photo is in the posting below).
He then took us out a side door, across the street to a building facade with nothing else left. Inside, the owner had re-purposed for flower vendors. There were probably ten vendors in the building. He claimed it had been destroyed by Hurricane Irma, color me skeptical -- no other building in the immediate area was as badly destroyed. My guess is that it is just another crumbling building in Havana.
Anyhow, the moment he bought Carol a white gladiola is the moment we knew we were being grifted. Despite Carol's protestations, he bought it and presented it with great fanfare.
We went from there to a bar where they started a type of Cuban music. Given the pictures on the wall, it was possible, but then he wanted me to buy us all a drink to celebrate our friendship. That's when I said "no, we don't day drink." (Editor's Fact Check: Mostly True)
I pulled out ten CUCs. He started berating me for more money; he wanted 20 to "feed his children." I pressed the ten into his hand, turned around, and walked out, figuring he would not attack or follow. My hunch was right, and we quickly got out of there.
As we talked about it, Carol was pretty steamed that she got taken in again. I didn't worry about it, and we both allowed as that at least he took us interesting places.
I finally got my picture of the bust of Lincoln.
In Havana, the score is Grifters 2, Bolgers 0.
A grifter, since some have asked, is a con artist who swindles people out of money through fraud. Is being misled the same as fraud? I don't know, but both Carol and I like the word, and figure it is close enough, that we were grifted is our story, and we're sticking to it.
Two years ago, we were also grifted in Cuba. If you want to read about it, here's the link. And, if you want to read my entire Cuba blog (or chunks of it anyhow) from 2016, here's that link.
(Should I be insulted that, in copying both links, Google warns that I shouldn't trust the link? Editor's Note: Yes, yes, you should be insulted.)
Anyhow, we had nearly an hour to kill before lunch, so we thought we would stroll around the local parks, take some pictures, and then spend some time in the Capitol building. I had taken some pictures, including of a really cool sculpture with fantastical looking sea creatures when we were on our way to take a picture of the Lincoln bust in the Plaza de La Fraternidad just across from our hotel.
Suddenly a very friendly older Afro Cuban started talking to us. To gain our trust, he said a couple of things. First, that he is a professor of percussion at the local music conservancy and plays at a famed nightclub, the Buena Vista Social Club. Second, that he wanted to improve his English by talking to us. Third, that he wanted no money to show us some sights off the beaten path, such as fruit & vegetable market that was only for Cubans.
He was quite the hail fellow well met, so we followed him a few blocks to a part of Havana that is off the beaten path for tourists. The market was interesting enough -- he stressed that it was for Cubans only; we Americans could not buy anything there, just take pictures.
I did get a great picture of a vendor smoking a big Cuban cigar -- the lighting was rough, but the picture speaks volumes. I haven't seen a food vendor smoking a cigar in his stall here in the US since, well, I don't know. The 1970s maybe? (The photo is in the posting below).
He then took us out a side door, across the street to a building facade with nothing else left. Inside, the owner had re-purposed for flower vendors. There were probably ten vendors in the building. He claimed it had been destroyed by Hurricane Irma, color me skeptical -- no other building in the immediate area was as badly destroyed. My guess is that it is just another crumbling building in Havana.
Anyhow, the moment he bought Carol a white gladiola is the moment we knew we were being grifted. Despite Carol's protestations, he bought it and presented it with great fanfare.
Note the frozen smiles? This is when
it dawned on us we were being grifted.
Oh well, such is life!
I pulled out ten CUCs. He started berating me for more money; he wanted 20 to "feed his children." I pressed the ten into his hand, turned around, and walked out, figuring he would not attack or follow. My hunch was right, and we quickly got out of there.
As we talked about it, Carol was pretty steamed that she got taken in again. I didn't worry about it, and we both allowed as that at least he took us interesting places.
I finally got my picture of the bust of Lincoln.
In Havana, the score is Grifters 2, Bolgers 0.
A Grifter's Day Out
Great sculpture with cool sea creatures.
Why I didn't take a close-up of one of
the creatures is lost to me now.
Hotel Saratoga.
Cool car & the Cuban Capitol.
The last car this cool at the US
Capitol was driven by Rep.
Silvio Conte. It was a different time.
Best practice for Cuba food safety
includes smoking a big Cuban cigar.
Bananas
In the market.
Our grifter is shown crossing
the street to the flower market.
The flower market.
A reminder that not every part of
Cuba is pristine and beautiful.
Our original goal before meeting our grifter.
Other than that, how was the play?
The US Mid-Terms & Cuba Conference
I have to admit, when I was younger (so much younger than today), the idea of appearing on a panel in Cuba at a conference meant to allow Cubans and Americans to exchange ideas would never had occurred to me. That I would do it twice is beyond comprehension.
The conference's title translates loosely to "The Relations of Cuba and the United States: the Election of the Mid-term Elections of the Administration of Donald Trump." I was on the opening panel, after a welcoming introduction and then a polemic speech by the Director General for the US from the Ministry of External Relations.
Our panel started late, but zipped along. Introduced as "Professor" by the moderator, Charlie Cook went first, followed by an actual professor, James Thurber. A Cuban professor went third, so I batted clean-up. By that point, I had made two decisions.
First, I was not just going to repeat what Charlie and Jim had already said. Fortunately, I had enough to say that I was able to avoid a lot of repeating. Second, I was not going to try spend one breath on analyzing the impact of the mid-terms on US-Cuba relations. I know my wheelhouse, and foreign relations ain't in it.
Two years ago I had, with Dem pollster Paul Maslin, presented the results of a survey we had conducted on US-Cuba relations, but this time I had not done any recent data on Cuba.
I was also introduced as "Professor" which is nice but not true. I am open to any university that wants to grant me an honorary degree however. I will wait by my phone for the offers to pour in.
The presentation went fine, and then we took questions. This was the first time all questions were asked first, and then the panelists were asked to comment after all questions were asked. None of us commented on all, of course, but it was a weird flow.
After the panel, Carol and I headed back to the hotel, catching a Lada taxi -- a Russian made car that's way too small for people over about five feet tall. It's not a long ride back, but I did note to Carol the Lada is another example of why the US won the Cold War.
The conference's title translates loosely to "The Relations of Cuba and the United States: the Election of the Mid-term Elections of the Administration of Donald Trump." I was on the opening panel, after a welcoming introduction and then a polemic speech by the Director General for the US from the Ministry of External Relations.
Our panel started late, but zipped along. Introduced as "Professor" by the moderator, Charlie Cook went first, followed by an actual professor, James Thurber. A Cuban professor went third, so I batted clean-up. By that point, I had made two decisions.
First, I was not just going to repeat what Charlie and Jim had already said. Fortunately, I had enough to say that I was able to avoid a lot of repeating. Second, I was not going to try spend one breath on analyzing the impact of the mid-terms on US-Cuba relations. I know my wheelhouse, and foreign relations ain't in it.
Two years ago I had, with Dem pollster Paul Maslin, presented the results of a survey we had conducted on US-Cuba relations, but this time I had not done any recent data on Cuba.
I was also introduced as "Professor" which is nice but not true. I am open to any university that wants to grant me an honorary degree however. I will wait by my phone for the offers to pour in.
The presentation went fine, and then we took questions. This was the first time all questions were asked first, and then the panelists were asked to comment after all questions were asked. None of us commented on all, of course, but it was a weird flow.
After the panel, Carol and I headed back to the hotel, catching a Lada taxi -- a Russian made car that's way too small for people over about five feet tall. It's not a long ride back, but I did note to Carol the Lada is another example of why the US won the Cold War.
Conference Photos
Charlie Cook with an observation,
as Dr. Thurber looks on.
Charlie listens to the translation
with our moderator and other
panelist behind him.
Dr. Thurber adjusts his translation earpiece
while I adjust my reading glasses. It takes
some adjustments to be at a conference in Cuba!
A good look at the audience. Conference
organizer Soraya is in the front row.
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