Gaugua 90
By Tom Kelley '03
Senior Tom Kelley, a theater major from Goshen, heard perspectives of Cuban people
and focused on them in a one-act play. Gaugua 90, written for his final project,
explores aspects of Cuban life - from socialism, to male-female relationships, to
transportation. The characters, a Cuban and an American tourist, are waiting at a
bus stop for bus guagua number 90. The dialogue, Kelley said, came directly from
conversations he had while in Cuba. The following is an edited excerpt:
Cuban: And what do you hear about Cuba? You said you expected us to hate your country.
Tourist: Cuba is a mysterious place to the people living in the U.S. It is this forbidden
island. And we have no real clue what life is like here. We can see pictures and read guidebooks.
But that still only gives us a tourist's view. The old cars and the restaurant where Hemingway used
to drink may be interesting and, well interesting, but it doesn't help explain or describe how
Cubans actually live.
C: You can see pictures? There are pictures of Cuba in the United States?
T: Yes. It is an incredibly beautiful island you live on, but you know that.
C: Yes, I do. We do.
T: But from the pictures of the impressive sights, we don't learn about your thoughts, how you live.
C: And now after a visit you understand?
T: No, not completely, really not even partly, but so much better than I did before. And much
more than the average person back in the states.
C: And what have you found?
T: The pictures of the old cars that I saw before coming here made me smile. I thought it
would be great to see all these old beasts roaring up and down the streets. But as I walked
the streets a bit, watching people, greasy and grimy, bending over their car engines, I
realized that an almost-50-year-old car doesn't just continue to run. It takes a lot of
blood, sweat and tears to keep up the maintenance. Then I learned about all the homemade
auto parts that Cubans make to keep their cars running. Incredible. That alone shows a bit
of the soul, the Cuban spirit. And here in line waiting for a bus, I mean, in the States people
would complain so much after waiting this long, but people just sit and talk or think. And, my
God, the line for ice cream at the ... what is that place ... the famous ice cream -
C: Coppelia.
T: Yeah. Coppelia, the line there, I'm told, can last for three or four hours, yet people wait.
C: People do not wait for things in the United States?
T: Sometimes, but rarely with the patience seen here. The pace of life there is so much faster.
If people have to wait 10 minutes for ice cream, they whine and complain, or just leave. And
another thing that helps show he spirit of the Cuban people is the Malecon.
C: Ah, you like our Malecon?
T: Yeah, I do. I spent a night there, actually two. The lights of the city cast an orange glow
on the wall, and the noise of the crashing sea relaxes everyone. It's like visiting a place of
fantasy.
C: It must be nice to come and enjoy the "fantasy" of our island, and then fly home without
experiencing the pain.
T: Wait a second. I thought you were preaching about the perfection of you island not 10
minutes ago.
C: Not perfection. In my eyes there are advantages. But the fact of that matter is our country
does not have much. We all live in small homes, rarely with enough room for everyone to be
comfortable; often, a family sleeps together in a bed. Our rationed food will, many times, not
be enough, and we have to spend our limited money on food, while we still need to pay for our
clothes, buses - and earlier you wondered why we cannot save money and take a trip.
T: You're right. I'll leave here without the whole picture. And maybe it is unfair that I get to
come experience the best Cuba has to offer, and then leave. My opinion is bound to be tainted,
I guess. (PAUSE) I do have one question, though.
C: Yes?
T: How do you handle only having one newspaper and three channels for TV?
C: (LAUGHS) You Americans. You always need constant action, something always to keep you busy.
You just get used to it. Maybe some day things will be different. Who knows, maybe one day your
imperialistic country will gain control of us and bring us cable. (LAUGHS) But not without a fight.
T: You don't want democracy?
C: (LAUGHS AGAIN) Democracy? (SERIOUSLY) Do you really call what you have "democracy?" When the
man running your country is not the one most people voted for? No, no thank you, we don't want
that kind of "democracy." ...
T: We are 90 miles away from each other, both our national pastimes are baseball, and we are
both a very proud people. If we could work together it would be a great relationship.
C: You know, changes in your government would have to happen, but I agree with you.
T: And changes in yours. (HE SMILES)
C: Ah, here comes guagua 90.
T: Excellent, that wasn't so bad, the wait, I mean. Thanks for the chat.
C: Not a problem.
T: (THE BUS PULLS UP, BRAKES ARE HEARD; HE TURNS AS HE MOVES TOWARD THE BUS) Hey, how do you
know so much -
C: Hurry, friend, I could talk longer but I don't think you want that.