Walking Cuba: El Camino del Cimarron From

Mataguá to Potrerillo

Samuel is no longer sure about walking with me.

“My back,” he complains, “It’s very stiff. Can’t bend.”

He mentions that a cane tractor, one of those ancient U.S. manufactured contraptions older than the Revolution, that carries the cane waste (bagazo) to the mill, is leaving at six, conveniently from right in front of his house.

“It can drop us at a crossroad close to Jorobada. We’ll still have to walk but not as much. I’ll be fine for sure then.” His hip is giving him trouble as well, he adds. Makes it tougher to move. His back problem has affected his walking gait and his knee was throwing his hip off kilter. But he adds quickly, if I want to walk, he is ok to walk with me. If I want to.

The ride on the American-built cane tractor loosens my fillings. There are no shock absorbers on these things and the wheels are solid rubber, not air-filled tires like on a tractor. Nothing about the design is meant to comfort riders. We stand on a metal grate which sticks like a stiff lip out the front of the trailer being pulled by the tractor. Riding on a vibrating iron cow, on the dirt road winding through the cane fields, which would have been a pleasure to walk, is an organ-shaking affair. A danger to all fleshy portions of my mouth.