El Purio: The Welcome (Part 1)

 El Purio: Walking in, Sitting down, Shaking hands

Walking into town, the spewing smokestack of the Central Perucho Figueredo dominates the skyline. This is the Central, known then as El Purio, where Esteban first worked as a free worker, selling his labor for room and board, hard work and something resembling a wage.  
The work and working conditions hadn’t changed much from his slave days and the mentality of his brothers in sugar hadn’t changed much either, according to Esteban. Being now free-men did not change their habits, honed and developed under the lash and the yoke. They were accustomed to life holed up in the barrancones, “that’s why they didn’t go out to eat. When lunchtime came, they went into their rooms with their women and ate lunch. The same at dinnertime. They didn’t go out at night. They were afraid of people; said they were going to get lost. They were convinced of that” (47).

Day 1: Sagua La Grande to El Purio: The Last Leg

Day 1: Sagua-El Purio Day 1 (Last Leg)

Down the hill from Guayabo Cuartel, we hit a dirt road and approach the Circuito Norte.  Coming our way from the direction we’re heading, trooping in their flats and casual dresses, are the director of Cultura of Sagua la Grande and a heavy-set lady who will introduce herself as the promotora cultural of the town of Viana. We see their smile from afar. Once closer, we see their faces and arms glistening with sweat. The heavier one has elaborately strapped shoes. Her feet bulged like soft freshly baked white bread loaves against the plastic trusses.

“Por fin,” says the promotora as she introduces herself. Finally.

“Where is the car?” I know that they have not walked far in their gear. She points down the path.

Day 1: Sagua la Grande to El Purio (38 km)…continued

Vitoria-Guayabo Cuartel

At the three-house hamlet known as Vitoria, we ask for directions again. Women look out of their front doors at the sight of a backpacker with two young men in street clothes with trepidation. Maykel approaches them, greeting them with a smile.

“No need to alarm them more than necessary,” he explains to me. Two güajiros working on their tractor nearby come to see what we need. Alejandro and I explain that we want to reach El Purio “por dentro.” Maykel returns, relaying the directions offered by the women. The güajiros overhear and disagree with the instructions passed on by the women.

Day 1: Sagua la Grande-El Purio (38 km)…continued

Mariana (The Old Flor de Sagua Sugar Mill)

Where Esteban Stuck His Dick in a Jar

Cutting “campo abierto” to Mariana, we can see three smokestacks emerging from old centrales. Only one billows smoke into the blue sky. We talk of the history of this area, its traditional dependence on sugar.

“Sugar is the tradition,” Maykel says, as he leads us through the field. “That is all this region is, really. Sugar. Take that away, and what do you have? I hope it comes back.”

“But it’s the 21st Century, Maykel,” I say. “It has been a long time since sugar could sustain an economy. You have to come up with something else or just settle into being a Third World, poor country.”

He thinks about what I have said, looking down at the path, walking.

Day 1: Sagua la Grande--El Purio (38 kilometers)

Sagua to Mariana (the old mill Flor de Sagua, where Esteban worked and from where he ran)

 

In front of my hotel, at kilometer zero of the Camino del Cimarrón, I look at the stars still sparking inside an obsidian black sky which will miraculously turn azure blue in a few hours.

 “So, would you call this a hotel?” I ask the night manager who is seeing me off. His eyes are bright; wide awake and eager.

“No. Not yet. But,” he smiles, “we’re going to start taking in tourists soon. Trying to take advantage of the moment in the hopes that tourist will find their way to Sagua on their way to Remedios. This is just for nationals now. You’re a special case.”

The “hotel” is a hybrid guest house designed purely for workers but now is renovating its presentation of self for the tourists that will hopefully begin to explore the island in this new age of openness with the United States. The place still has a rooming-house air about it, with the bathroom down the hall but my room was comfortable; TV, a good air conditioner, good bed, table and plenty of windows. 

I lean my backpack against my leg and wait for Maykel and Carlos Alejandro, the historian and his friend. Both will walk with me today, helping me on my way from the porch of this hotel, to the town El Purio, home of the mill where Esteban first worked as a free laborer. The manager reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a simple business card, his name in black lettering along with the outline of a building below the inscription, Casa de Trabajadores.

“Try to get the word out. Any day now we’ll have permission to start taking in tourists. Sagua needs the help.”

It is 5:30 in the morning on a hopeful day in March 2016.

Camino del Cimarron: Kick off Event-Sagua la Grande Museum

Sagua La Grande

Kicking off the Walk

We kick off the walk the day before at the museum of Sagua la Grande. We arrive late from festivities at the book fair in Santa Clara and with little ceremony, the museum director, a short, thin black woman smiling as wide as humanly possible ushers Miguel and me to the front of a long room filled with rows of chairs separated by a walking aisle. 

We sit in the front row, across from a small table with two chairs.. The director of the museum faces the crowd and welcomes everyone.

“And,” she says smiling our way, “most importantly, welcome to Miguel Barnet and Guillermo Grenier, El Caminante, (the Walker) to this event commemorating the fiftieth anniversary of the publication of our most famous book.”