Baracoa, 1 Marzo 2010

Near where we are staying is the home for pregnant women who:

• are not gaining enough weight/don't have enough healthy food at home.
• are over 30=high risk pregnancy.
• have low weight fetuses
• are depressed and might abort (which is legal)
• live in the country - they come at 8 months to be near the hospital.

Women leave work at 6 months pregnant, and get a year off when the baby is born. Until it is born, you get your whole salary. That year, you get a portion.

Today:
Waiting in line at the bank - apparently, you have to say, "Quien es el ultimo?" ("Who is last?") to get a place in line. I managed though. Then Peter's broken shoe to the shoe repair shop...where you wait in line to explain the problem so they can charge you. We paid in nationales, so only about 27 cents. While Peter waited again with the crowd waiting for the man with the industrial sewing machine, I went down the street to buy him flip-flops (she wouldn't let me pay in pesos - had to use CUCs, but ok, it was $4 for the shoes and a package of t.p.). Brought the shoes to Peter where we and the women waiting all laughed together about Peter's need for a second pair of pants. It was all a bit like the old anti-commie propaganda films - lots of waiting in line.

Then, the beach, with lovely clear water - chilly, but not cold. Old but serviceable adirondack chairs, and patiently begging children, dogs, chickens, not-so-patiently pigs. The wild feel of a pig nose against your hand.