What a Wonderful World

Sitting in the lively Casa de la Música, in Trinidad de Cuba, obligatory mojito in hand, served with a flourish by a gentlemanly waiter, dapper in a bow tie and vest, I marvel at the Cuban way of
life. In a truly foreign country so beguiling you would be forgiven for believing you've stepped on to a living Hollywood movie set, it's inhabitants are the epitome of the celebration of life.

For Cubans, while seemingly simple things can be hard to come by, their very being is as good a reason as any to party. And they love to party. Music, dance and lashings of rum, drunk neat if you're local, can be found most nights on the streets and in the bars. Locals and tourists revelling in a hearty, festive atmosphere that is rowdy, colourful and thoroughly contagious.

Chatting with the band between sets, the dexterous guitarist proudly showing us his beautiful three-stringed tres, I wonder how easily instruments and their various parts are to acquire. After all, just this morning we'd helped our obliging casa owner repair his trusty Moskvitch car with a spring that he'd fashioned from a long retired washing machine, and witnessed his frustration turn to joy as he found himself mechanically mobile once again.

The guitarist told me strings are incredibly hard to find, especially in the provinces, but being an ever industrious Cuban, he proudly went on to explain that it's no problem because telephone wire works just fine.

There is an old joke in Cuba; ask children what they want to be when they grow up and they will tell you they want to be tourists. Cubans watch spoiled tourists live like kings and want for nothing.

With the luxury of hindsight, I wonder if they might be right.

As he headed back to the stage to join his band mates in their exuberant celebration of life, I asked my friendly minstrel if he finds life tough. As he walked he turned to look back at me, and with a twinkle in his eye and an easy Cuban smile joyously declared: "Sure, we have our problems, but hey, this is Cuba!"