Walking Cuba: El Camino del Cimarron

Palmira-Cienfuegos

A dozen stars persevered in the cloudless cobalt blue sky. Asley and Yorgani waited below as I clanged and bounced my way down the spiral staircase at six a.m. I recognize Yorgani from the welcome the day before as the one they call “El Enano.” — “the midget.”

“So, you know the way, Enano?”

He laughs. I don’t think strangers usually call him by his nickname. Our flashlights lead the way down white dirt street.

“Never been all the way to Cienfuegos por dentro but we can figure it out. Put your backpack on this bike. We’ll take turns pushing it.”

I hoist it on top of the bicycle seat and take first push.

“Ok,” I ask, “so what’s the plan?”

The plan is to work our way through the cane fields and back roads for about twelve kilometers until we hit the main road into Cienfuegos at Canta Rana. There, my buddy, Orlando waits and I would become the responsibility of the Cienfuegos city contingent. Whether I would go back into the bush to enter the city or walk in down the main drag was yet to be determined. All that I know was that I will walk into Cienfuegos today. The final push.

“Si dios quiere,” as my mother would say. No mule cart on this last leg. No helpful Cultura car offering to get me off my feet.

We head west out of town, over the train lines and into the unlit dirt road beyond.