There's more than one kind of "papaya"

If you’re Cuban, you might already understand the significance of this phrase. I figured that after not writing for quite some time, I would need a fairly interesting blog entry title. I learned that the other day that, in Cuba, there are two different kinds of papaya:

On the days that we only have one class, some of the other girls in the group (Alyssa, Louisa and Alison) and I take the bus to the beach. The ride is about an hour as we ride along the entire route and when we went last week, I brought a bag of dried fruit with me. In the bag was pineapple, mango and papaya and I offered some, in Spanish, to the three other girls. I looked at Alyssa and asked, “Quieres pina, mango o papaya?” She looked at me frankly and said, “You know you just offered me a bag of vagina, right?”

Apparently I hadn’t been present on the day that everyone BUT me learned that in Cuba, the word “papaya” meant “vagina.” The word for the fruit, papaya, is “fruta bomba.”

Well, I suppose just as quickly as I learned this, I soon forgot it. After a few wonderful hours at the beach, we climbed back on the bus to head home. A few rows in front of us was a cute Cuban boy sitting on the floor. In Spanish, I asked him how old he was. He shyly told me that he was 10 years old. Wanting to continue the conversation, I searched in my bag for something I might be able to share. There was the bag of dried fruit, but all that was left was papaya. Before even thinking, I looked at the 10-year-old boy and asked, “Te gusta papaya…”

It had just barely made it out of my mouth when I realized what I had just asked this young boy. He looked confused and all of the teenage boys around him began to laugh. Alyssa, Louisa and Alison could barely contain themselves before beginning to laugh so hard that they started to cry. It takes a lot to embarrass me, and I can honestly say that I was mortified.

Hours later I realized how funny it actually was.

Still, I can confidently say that my Cuban adventures have involved less verbal errors. Last weekend, Alyssa and I tried to take the Hershey train (a famous American-made train brought to Cuba in 1913) to Matanzas, a city about an hour-and-a-half drive east of Havana. However, after seeing some of the guys in our group depart the train looking as though they had returned from hell (and that the line to Matanzas was broken), Alyssa and I opted to take the bus. Originally we were heading to Matanzas, but everyone else on the bus seemed to be heading to Varadero, a beautiful beach town, and so we changed our minds and went with them.

Upon arriving in Varadero, we needed to find a place to stay. After much walking and searching for over two hours, we ended up deciding upon a hotel instead of a casa particular (renting a room in someone’s house). Actually, what we thought was a hotel turned out to be a resort and I’m not sure which of you reading this have seen the movie “Cocoon,” but that’s exactly what I thought of as we began to walk around the report. Everyone was at least 30 years older than us and Canadian, gathered around the pool soaking in the last bits of sun. It was funny, but a great time overall and once having arrived in Varadero, it proved to be a very relaxing weekend at some of the most beautiful beaches I have ever seen.

This past weekend was really fun as well. One of my best friends from high school, Greg, used his dual-citizenship (he was born in Poland) to come visit me in Havana. What a weekend, trying to show him even just Havana in a mere two days! We walked along the Malecon, through Centro Havana and through Havana Vieja, the historic district of the city. Yesterday we went to the Plaza de la Revolucion and saw the famous picture of Che Guevara as well as the Jose Marti Memorial. I also took Greg to take some pictures on the front steps of la Universidad de la Habana and introduced him to all of the people in my study abroad group here. I told him that if he brought a bag of candy with him that they would love him. He really didn’t believe me until he got here and had instant friends.

Showing Greg around this past weekend made me realize how familiar I’ve become with Havana and also, how much of Cuba I still want to see. Luckily, I have over two months left for some great adventures.