Day 8 - Jaimanitas & Fusterlandia

This day was the one I was most looking forward to, because it was the day we were going to see the home and work of José Rodriguez Fuster. I'll be honest- most museums and galleries do not make my Top Ten List. Sadly, my brain cells have never been stimulated by the finer works of writers, painters or poets. Let me put it this way- I'd rather ride a bull and watch two women mud wrestle then debate the level of anguish in each painting in Picasso's Blue Period. It's not that I find artists pretentious...it's because my brain just doesn't seem to operate on that intellectual wave length. It's unfortunate, but I think I'll survive.

Casa de Fuster is a rare exception that captivated me, because I tend to appreciate artists that lean toward being eccentric/quirky. This is probably because I'm such a suburban, middle-aged mom myself, that I appreciate the splashes of color they add to the world. I've also always loved mosaic artwork more than most other forms, likely because it seems so much bolder/vibrant to me than a canvas painting  So Casa de Fuster definitely ticks off ALL the boxes of  for me.  However, I have to point out that Jose Fuster is not a side show. He's frequently compared to Picasso & Gaudi, and is well visited from people all over the world. 

Interestingly, he wasn't mentioned in either of the two travel guides we'd bought. I'd stumbled upon him in an online search. So before we left, I noted how to get to 'Fusterlandia.'. To avoid paying $40 of cab fare (it's on the outskirts of the city), it was recommended that we hop the state-run tourist bus from Parque Central (center of Central Havana). From there, we'd switch to a second private bus line out to the town of Jaimanitas. 

I'd read about the notorious unreliability of the buses there and told Rich we should cab it, but he wanted to try the buses. I was apprehensive, but tried to convince myself that it was the main tourist bus, the only mode of mass transport in the city,,,plus it was the very first stop of the day at the main stop. And since it wasn't really cheap ($10 per person per day)...surely it would be more reliable, right? 

Um. no.

The bus was scheduled to arrive/depart at 9:10. Another bus on a different line was scheduled to arrive at 9:00am. We arrived at 8:50. I passed the time by snapping pictures of all the noisy, rambling diesel cars cruising by. But after FIFTY minutes of watching hundreds of cars pass by (and no sign of either bus), and the line of puzzled tourists grow longer and longer, we finally gave up and left to find a taxi. We were lucky to find an amazingly kind and fair driver in front of the swanky Iberostar (where we walked to use the internet each day) who agreed to drive us out AND back (he agreed to give us an hour there) for an astoundingly low fee.

That's the Grand Teatro in the background (where Obama spoke, and which is, I believe the ballet theatre).

The driver had never been to Casa de Fuster before, but as a blog had suggested...you'd know you were there once you noticed the mosaic artwork on the bus stops. As soon as we saw one, we made a U-turn and headed back to the little street in his neighborhood.

Jose Fuster covered his entire home in mosaic artwork, and eventually convinced the rest of the tiny neighborhood to let him decorate their homes, walls, bus stops and businesses as well. It's startling, delightful and whimsical (hearts are prominently featured in so much of his art) all at once.

The first large mosaic I saw...of the Granma yacht of course!

It is rumored that a high-ranking government official resides in his nearby home (the only one not covered in tiles, it seems. We have NO idea who it could be, but of course, we convinced ourselves it was Uncle Fidel.

The surrounding walls in the neighborhood...

From this picture one, we are officially outside the walls/gates of Casa de Fuster. Expect the art ratchet up a notch or two. Or eighty seven.

A bar outside the gates...

As you enter the gate, the driveway on the left leads to a garage under the house...

I inadvertently captured Senor Fuster's son (who lives there with his father, and minds the house whenever he is away). I got to have a brief conversation with him about fathers (in general), after he joked to another guest that his father was 'crazy'. At that time, I had no idea he was Senor Fuster's son. :-)

The garage is alongside a pool...that had a treadmill in it. I loved that! The Fusters stay in shape.

Near the entrance to his tiny gallery, I spotted these Pride stickers. It filled me with happiness to see a straight ally that is proud enough to pledge his support for such a vulnerable community so publicly. Viva Fusterlandia!

By the way...Senor Fuster and his family live full-time in the house, with certain areas cordoned off for their work and privacy. But it's a bustling family home, so I doubly appreciate their allowing strangers to traipse through their home, at no cost, simply because they want to share their art with the rest of the world.

The gallery with its adorable heart shaped window...

Directly overlooking the pool

The building next door (from atop Senor Fuster's deck), that to me, looked like a school. It appears to that Senor Fuster is a proud patriot, as the Cuban flag and many other symbols of the revolution were prominently scattered throughout the home and neighborhood.

Our view from the rooftop deck got very Dr. Suess-like. I hope the good MD would agree. ;-)

Artwork drying in the studio...

This reminded me of the tiny alleys and obscured doors hidden in the walls of Morocco in Fes...

I wasn't expecting the giraffes. But you know, they work.

Every trip has the picture. This one is it.
Thank you, Senor Fuster for this memory.

 Soon thereafter, we exited the home and headed back outside.

This was directly outside the home...Senor Fuster has created a place for visitors to play checkers/chess, dominoes and just hang out. It's very near the bar I posted in an earlier picture.

He also re-purposed a variety of  old sewing machines throughout the property. This was directly to the left outside his gate.

The front of what I imagined to be a school, just to the left of his home.

Thanks to our very amazing taxi driver, who tried to refuse a tip (so much for the 'everyone is out to gouge you' warnings we'd read repeatedly that never, ever happened)...we were back in town by noon.

Our first stop was back to Calle San Rafael to get some delicious lunch (I'll let you guess what we ate). Wink, wink.

After lunch, we walked back to Central Havana and after many days of waiting, were finally able to see a restored pharmacy that had been closed every time we'd walked by.

They still had their well-preserved 'birdcage' elevator (though now non operational) displayed.

 We also bought a newspaper to commemorate Obama's historic visit to the country.

This is exactly what we saw that day...standing in the pouring rain. I think they were only 50-60 feet away from us.

The bar near our home (where Hemingway drank) looked like this daily, from about 11am until the wee hours of the morning. Packed, noisy and lively!

After a brief siesta back at the house, we left in the cooler later afternoon to revisit a few beautiful spots, such as Plaza Vieja. I couldn't help but snap this picture of how kebabs were served at a restaurant in the square.

Plaza d'Armas

Habana Vieja (Old Havana) reminds me of Kyoto, Japan. Not in appearance, but in its unrivaled amount of preserved buildings concentrated in such a small area. There are over 1,000 buildings in Old Havana that are considered to be 'historic.' The buildings (which were formerly castles, palaces, convents and churches) have been transformed into restaurants, museums and galleries today. And because the buildings are tall and the streets are narrow, even in the heat of the day, they are often shaded and cool. Not having cars on most streets is an added bonus (though you constantly dodge bici taxis).

Our dinner that night was Italian (I was getting tired of beans/rice), with a Cuban brew for Rich! The food was surprisingly delicious (and of course, inexpensive). I think we paid about $10 for the whole meal, with tip.

Hands down, this was my favorite day in Havana...