Motopollo (Moto-Chicken)

We happened to arrive in Vinales during their Carnivale, so this normally “muy tranquilo” village in the valley was transformed into a party zone. Our hostess Brunilda was fantastic. She didn’t speak much English, but she was very patient and kind. Through pointing and hand gestures we never had any real problems communicating.

Vinales valley and the surrounding Cuban countryside are absolutely beautiful. Thick, lush green jungle forests of palms and pines, tobacco and banana and sweet potato crops. Jutting mountains and rolling hills. The setting and the people were a welcome change from Havana and I wish we could have stayed longer.

When the bus pulled to a stop, all of the Casa Particulaire owners were lined up on the sidewalk with signs bearing the names of their incoming guests. After arriving and getting settled, we walked up to the hotel Ermita, a resort on the hill removed from the town. When we returned. Tania’s stomach started to turn and churn with what was probably salmonella from the huevo on the hamburguesa on our last lunch in Havana. She spent most of the rest of that day going back and forth between the bed and toilet. Unfortunate, but hardly surprising as tourist tummy seems to be an inevitable malady for foreigners. Brunilda jumped right into the role of surrogate mom and made Tania mint and anise tea. There wasn’t much I could do to help so I went to check out the Carnivale.

I ended up being invited to the table of a trio of girls from Pinar del Rio: Two salsa instructors and a nurse. We had an amusing and awkward conversation and I learned some salsa moves. This night was only the pre carnivale where they have a fashion show. The outfits were traditional and conservative at first, then more racy, and eventually they just became downright bizarre. Fairy wings on one girl, and a violin outfit complete with strings and bow on another.

The recordings on this track were gathered during our walk around the town to Hotel Ermita. There were chickens by the side of the road, and an old sputtery motorbike passed by while I was recording their clucking. We walked past a group of noisy schoolkids and they started shouting at us. There’s also a recording from the horseback tour we took the following day.