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.
No comments:
Post a Comment