Wading In My Gene Pool

Edinburgh Festival

“Aye, that’s a tricky period for finding your Ancestors.”  A nice way of saying that the hours of online research to find John Jamieson, my Scottish ancestor, were for nothing.  Birth records in Edinburgh showed I had the wrong guy.  I still needed to find MY John Jamieson, that unluckiest of forebears whose family had been evicted from their ‘croft’ during Highland upheavals then emigrated with over 500,000 Scottish countrymen during the Great Potato Famine of the mid-1800s.  In predictable bad timing he then was conscripted into the American Civil War where he died in 1862.  All that remains are well scripted personal letters to his wife, children and some DNA to which I have a small claim. 

Center for Researching Scottish Emigrants in Edinburgh

The clerk at the Archived Records in Edinburgh was sympathetic; ‘This happens every day.  People come over to Scotland wanting to find their ancestors, but that period of time was very difficult.  In the 1840s and 1850s great numbers of Scots died of starvation.  The government, landlords and churches helped pay their ship passage because there was no help available here.  Record keeping was shoddy to nonexistent.  They were happy to see them go.’

The Highlands Where Crofters Were Evicted
and Felt the Worst of the Famine in mid-1800s

It gave me new compassion for the mettle of my Scottish forbears, and stronger desire to solve this ancestral puzzle.  The clerk gave me sound advice for more tracing at the American end of things.  I was initially disappointed, but just like those Scottish ballads blending sorrow with extreme optimism, I think things worked out for the best.  Instead of looking up my Scottish ‘rellies’ (their diminutive for relatives) Glen and I got to explore the Scottish Highlands and get a feel for the land and people.   

Urquhart Castle on Loch Ness

Endless Stunning Scenery

Scotland is achingly beautiful.  But that would have been cold comfort during the hardships of the 19th century.  Especially in the Highlands; it was cold and damp in August – I would never want to be there in the winter.   I know cold weather.  But the Scottish chill hits you on an entirely different level.  The damp seeps into your bones and stays there, leaving you yearning for a cup of hot tea before the fire and layering as many clothes as possible.  It warms up on the rare sunny, summer day but weather in Scotland is cool and overcast with intermittent rain more often than not.  

Crofter House From Mid-1800s
Cold and Damp Even in Summer

Potato Blight That Struck Ireland and Scotland
Caused Famine and Massive Emigration in mid-1800s

Highland Clan Museums are the pride of larger villages and give a real feel for the difficult life my ancestors had in the 1800s Highlands. Life expectancy was low — living into your 50s was an achievement.  Many children died from the hardships so women bore many hoping a few survived.  Large, extended families lived in single-room houses.   Hygiene was bad - when their kilts got too filthy they killed the fleas by soaking them in urine. Coats didn’t exist.  Men were tough and women wrapped thin woven fabric around their bodies like a shawl.  Life was unimaginably hard. 

On our last day in Scotland,  Glen and I walked back from dinner through the light rain and reflected on our trip.  Our time in Scotland had been wonderful.  But now I was wistful to return home to our sunny mountain cabin, family and friends.  Then I realized that my ancestors - whose genes intertwined to produce mine – felt that same longing for Scotland as they made families and communities in their adopted land. 

Animals Love Glen (We all do!)
At Our B&B on Loch Ness

Another Cool, Misty Summer Morning

I honor the struggles and hopes of John Jamieson, my forebear.  It may take awhile, but my ‘rellies’ in Scotland will someday have a visit from their American cousin.  Who knows, they may be tall, have red hair and spend much of their time online searching for their lost American relatives.  

This Highland Horse Followed Glen Around  

On the Harry Potter Tour in Edinburgh
J.K. Rowling Still Lives There

Animal Friendly Everywhere
Especially Corgis, Labs and Goldens

After The Aftermath

It Takes Two Days of Travel To Saipan 

‘Do you think they know a typhoon is coming?’, I wondered out loud.  A group of Chinese tourists were heading out to the beach in their swimsuits carrying fins and snorkels.  Glen and I were soaked from the pelting rain - hauling cases of communications gear through the open air lobby of a hotel in Saipan. This was the spot where we Red Cross volunteers from the states were gathered to weather the coming storm.  The place that agreed to take us  in was packed with tourists from China who arrived in Saipan ready to do the full tilt vacation experience.   From the looks of things these were very hardy tourists.  There is not an umbrella made that could withstand the winds that were gathering strength yet a dozen or so tourists were heading to the beach to…… do what?  The wind had whipped up the waves to such a frenzy that no fish worthy of the name would be at snorkeling depth.  Nemo was surely off visiting cousins deep down in the ocean.  Sand was flying, the lounge chairs had already been stacked and chained down, and the bits of thatched roof on beach ramadas were  airborne.  

The Typhoon That Brought Us To Saipan - Soudelor

    

“If they start doing Tai Chi I may join them,” I told Glen.  Things had been hectic and I could do with a little calm right now.  The past few days Glen and I had our heads in our work; installing communications for the Red Cross disaster response in Saipan after Super Typhoon Soudelor devastated the island.  We heard bits and pieces from islanders and colleagues about the remote possibility of a new typhoon heading our way.   But we have been in many disasters during our 10 years as Red Cross volunteers and could not imagine the odds of two typhoons hitting the same island so close to one another.  That would be some serious bad luck. 

Aftermath From Super Typhoon Soudelor

 So it was with amazement that we needed to stop disaster response for Super Typhoon Soudelor, gather our emergency satellite communications gear and prepare for another one.  This new tropical storm was named 'Goni' and slated to veer a bit and not pack anywhere near the punch of Typhoon Soudelor.  But the houses and buildings that were already missing a roof or open to the weather were not going to provide much protection for the islanders.  Many were heading to shelters in disbelief.  

Winds and Seas Building For Second Storm
Locals Head to Shelters
Red Cross Relief Workers Prepare For Round Two

By definition, Red Cross disaster workers are a resilient bunch.  And if you have to be in a big storm, they are about as capable a group as you could wish for.  These people are so accustomed to helping out and taking charge in disasters that they were in the lobby doing what comes naturally in the Red Cross; one volunteer trying to make himself understood to Chinese tourists practicing their English that it might be a good idea to fill their bathtub with water in case the water supply is disrupted.  Try to communicate that to a non-English speaker.   Meanwhile a Red Cross Health volunteer is advising a young couple to take shelter in the bathroom if the windows break.   The young couple seemed to understand and translate for the rest.   

Meanwhile, the Asian tourists are making the most of the situation taking pictures of each other with their arms around the Red Cross volunteers while pointing to the American Red Cross logo on our shirts.  It was about as close to celebrity status as a disaster volunteer will ever come.  Come to think of it, these Chinese tourists had it right. Vacation experiences don't come more authentic than this.   

Troubleshooting A Problem 

Ron Beckley and Glen Setting Up Equipment
Before News of Second Storm 

 NOTE:  Tropical storm Goni did not develop into a typhoon and winds stayed around 60 mph.  Not surprisingly the tourists in the hotel did not skip a beat and were out body surfing the next day in the high waves created by the storm.   The Red Cross workers went back to Round Two of disaster relief.

Going With The Flow After Nepal

I awaken to the smell of coffee and weigh the merits of climbing out of my sleeping bag before the sun is fully up.  As I lay still I hear a peregrine falcon screech echoing down the canyon.   I glance over at Glen and ask, “Did you hear that?”  As dawn creeps down the side of the red canyon walls I sit up and shake the night's sand from my hair.  Glen and I reeled at the thought of one more week in a tent.  But this time it is for love of the great outdoors and Glen's kids instead of avoiding a building collapse in earthquake country.   

Morning Sun Creeps Up the Canyon Walls

Setting Up Camp 

Glen and I just returned from a month of Red Cross disaster volunteer work in Nepal.  We arrived in Nepal days after the first 7.8 earthquake that killed over 8,000 people, and were still there during the next, slightly smaller 7.4 earthquake.  Daily aftershocks, strong tremors and the occasional landslide or building collapse kept us frayed and edgy; sleeping in tents ensured a wake-up and gave peace of mind.  But here we were, back safely, but sleeping in a tent.  Back from Nepal with only 4 days to prepare for this trip of a lifetime; a rafting trip on the Colorado River through Cataract Canyon. 

Sleeping in a tent was the only thing this raft trip had in common with disaster response work.  But it was surreal to come from the destroyed villages and dehydrated food of Nepal to this serene, luxury camping under towering red canyon walls.   Under the circumstances, OARS, our raft company, might have rescheduled us, but this was ‘snow melt’ period – when the rapids raged with the flush of melting mountain snowpack.  The best time for rafting.  Months earlier, before the Nepal earthquake, we invited Glen’s kids and a grandson and they were counting on this vacation.  So here we were, the stress of Nepal fading as we blended and socialized with the group of 14 other adventure travelers seeking the thrill of famous Cataract Canyon rapids at high water. 

Our five massively laden oar rafts and dories are hauling massive amounts of gear and food; much of which has to be unloaded at a new camp each night and reloaded each morning.  Getting downriver is like moving your daughter out of her dorm room twice a day for five days . . .  with the help of 19 new friends.  It was just what we needed. Despite being bone tired from our month of hard living in Nepal, gliding through canyon geology like this and careening through Class IV rapids is a better way to decompress than just about anything I can think of.

Groover Feng Shui 

 “Why do they call the toilet a groover?” asks Brandon, Glen’s grandson.  Good question.  A guide told us the term ‘groover’ came from the days before they included the seat; you sat directly on the hard rims of a Vietnam era 60 caliber ammo can, which left two deep grooves in your -- well, you get the picture.  And nothing is more important to camp morale than ‘groover feng shui’ or the placement of the two portable toilets in  sparse natural seclusion.  But pretty soon all 25 us (20 rafters and five guides) are enjoying the spectacular views from the ‘groover’ – totally at home on the toilet as rafts and dories pass by on the river.  . 

Looks Like Gaping Jaws 

The first two days are mellow with mostly flat water. Days three and four are full of excitement.  Life jacket as tight as I can stand, helmet; it's a glorious, sunny day on the Colorado River and I feel like I'm suited up for combat.  I swelter in the heat and get goosebumps from the snow melt river water at the same time. After two days of anticipation, the group’s mood soars as we get nearer the rapids, some of North America’s biggest.  We are all pumped.  The melting snow has created perfect conditions; exciting but not death defying.  Our rafts get lively at the  rapids and we get soaked as the water comes crashing down on us.  Our guides thread the thrashing rapids, pulling hard to avoid the swirls and eddies between the boulders and falls.  Then we pull over and as we talk through our excitement, the guides proceed to assemble a gourmet lunch on the riverbank.  As a fellow rafter put it; it’s as if our airline pilot just walked back to serve us a meal.  Our life is in their hands and then they wait on us hand and foot.

Other Rafter In Action 

Our last day is all about our pickup rendezvous at the Lake Powell ramp.  We grab our gear with a last bucket brigade and head up to an airstrip where small planes take our group high above the canyon tracing our rafting route from a different vantage point. It was the perfect way to end the trip. As I looked down from the small plane to the Colorado River below I saw another group of rafters traversing rapids that had been exciting and scary up close.  Now, like the rapids on the river below us, my hard times in Nepal were far behind me.  

On Shaky Ground In Nepal -

I was stumbling around in the middle of the night trying to make it to the squat toilet.  Taking short, quick steps I was in a hurry, aiming my headlamp at the ground to avoid tent stakes and electrical cords.  In the distance I saw something white and red floating nearby and gasped as I saw her in my headlamp.  I remembered this blind, albino girl wearing red from earlier today – pressing and feeling and curious about this new person and equipment in camp.  She was one of a dozen or more orphans with major disabilities who had been abandoned by their caretakers for who knows how long. 

Searching For a High Place To Install the VSAT
Any New Activity Is  A Magnet For the Orphans

A few days before, a Spanish Red Cross disaster response team ‘discovered’  this situation; a building of blind, disabled and handicapped young Nepali children who had been abandoned by their caretakers.  The Red Cross team set up a camp behind the building, cleaning the filth and floors where the children had relieved themselves instead of the overflowing outdoor squat toilet.  Until the Red Cross came across these children, they were left to fend for themselves, wandering around the building, eating handouts of rice from villagers.  
  

I was there to install communications and internet for the  Spanish Red Cross mass sanitation team using  one of our American Red Cross VSATs.  

The Spanish Red Cross Camp Behind the Orphanage
Bringing  Humanity, Energy and Compassion   

When we arrived with our cases of equipment we were immediately surrounded by small, outstretched hands of the blind children wanting to understand through touch and feel. 

When Elisandro Alvarez, my Spanish Red Cross counterpart, explained the situation, it was obvious this was no ordinary satellite terminal installation.  These children were curious and many were blind.  The equipment had to be placed far from the reach and access of very mobile and curious children.  The Spanish Red Cross now came to my rescue as well; strong, energetic team members emptied a tall, heavy, wooden packing box creating a five foot tall base for our VSAT.  Far from the prying hands of children.  Perfect! 

The Spanish Red Cross Making Things Happen

 The amount of hard, dirty, hazardous work of the Spanish Red Cross astounded me during my time there. The filth they cleaned must have been overpowering – the stench was still there - worked deep into the concrete floors.  The Red Cross rescued those children in addition to their normal duties providing clean water and mass sanitation for villages in the region. 

Our 'Special' 'Childproof'' VSAT Installation 

Elisardo Alvarez making friends with his internet provider! 

I was humbled by the extreme humanity and compassion I saw extended by the team I was there to support.  Now that the Red Cross team had internet they could coordinate with UNICEF for a long term solution to these unfortunate children.  The difference these people made to the lives of these orphans can never be calculated.  But they are making a difference in Nepal. 

Julie Bradley, American Red Cross IT/Telecom ERU volunteer in Nepal.      

Blown Away In Nepal

Talking About Our VSAT Internet/Wifi coverage w Canadian Docs

Crumbled Hospital In Dhunche  - Replaced By Canadian Red Cross Field Unit

My little yellow tent sailed off the cliff where I had slept the night before.  I couldn’t stake it down because of the rockface, so left my duffle inside as anchor against the strong winds whipping up from the steep Himalayan valley.  It was all replaceable; clothes, dehydrated food and sleeping gear.  All the important stuff was right next to me in my backpack; satphone, radio, toilet paper….

Helo Bringing Medical Supplies

Ewan Coldicott and I were out in the field as part of a joint American/New Zealand Red Cross IT/Telecoms  Emergency Response Unit (ERU).  When I heard about my tent I looked down the mountain and kept on about our business.   With all the serious disaster surrounding us the loss of my tent seemed pretty mild.  To get to this remote mountainous area of Nepal we had driven at walking pace up a narrow, dusty road with steep drop offs, stopping only for a landslide which partially blocked the road and to check on our sensitive equipment strapped to the roof of our car.   Our destination was Dhunche, a remote village high in the northern mountains where we were going to support a 35 person Canadian Red Cross medical unit perched on a narrow strip of rare, flat land.   This Red Cross unit was the only medical facility in the region and needed contact with the outside world to do their job. 

Along the way we passed destroyed villages waving strings of colorful Buddhist prayer flags.  Their baked brick homes built on a ridge line had literally crumbled during the earthquake.  Survivors had salvaged and gathered what they could and were sleeping outdoors or under raised blue tarps with the Red Cross symbol. 

Ewan - NZ Red Cross Team Member

Finding a clear line of sight to the satellite among the steep mountains was a challenge.  We finally locked on and got the row of green lights - success.  At this point the lack of useable living space turned into an advantage for us.  As we hammered nails and strung our cables we realized it was all so compact we could cover the hospital as well as the Red Cross medical personnel sleeping quarters with one large wifi antenna.  As Ewan  explained the system to the Red Cross team a villager ran up the mountain path carrying my tent and duffle over his head.  “Auntie, auntie, your tent!”  Now we were all smiling; the Red Cross hospital workers had internet and communication with the outside world and I had my tent back. 

All the best from Glen and Julie Bradley,  American Red Cross IT/Telecoms disaster volunteers

After The Shock In Nepal

VSAT Installation at Choutara - Norwegian Red Cross Hospital

When the dogs wake you up at night with frantic barking it might be time to put on your shoes and get ready to run.   So far, dogs have been reliable indicators of aftershocks ranging from mild to let’s exit the building.  Right now we are sleeping in tents in the field next to Search and Rescue dogs and they have been a reliable ‘canine early warning’ of coming aftershocks;   truly ‘man’s best friend’. 

Stringing Cable

The past few days our job in the American Red Cross IT/Telecoms ERU has been to support field units in the hardest hit areas of Nepal.   Tom McNally, a New Zealand Red Cross team member and I just returned to Disaster Operations in Kathmandu after installing communications, internet and wifi to support a rapidly expanding International Red Cross Operation. 

Team Member Tom McNally - NZ Red Cross  

Delayed enroute by a landslide,   Tom and I walked from the vehicle to the landslide blocking the road, gathering with the villagers to watch the slow but effective clearing of our path.  In some areas whole villages crumbled and the community is still in shock.  But in the rest of Nepal people are moving on with whatever they can do to help with the disaster relief efforts. 

This Entire Hospital Was Erected in 2 Days - Astounding

Landslide We Encountered On The Way To Choutara - Cleared Fast By Villagers

Tom and I drove through crumbled villages on the way to our field units and arrived on site at the same time as the Red Cross hospital and sanitation teams we are supporting.   It was an eerie scene as we worked well into the night; dozens of Red Cross working by headlight.  Literally overnight a 60 bed hospital camp was well underway and the next day by afternoon they were accepting casualties and patients.  As the scene unfolded around us Tom and I worked to get our equipment up and running; satellite communications, wifi and internet based phone service which was desperately needed for the 60-100 Red Cross workers to communicate and coordinate with the outside world.  A Norwegian Search and Rescue team gifted us some equipment as they departed so we even had a Red Cross laser printer and admin supplies – trivial in civilization but major luxury for these field teams.

The units we supported were smiling and appreciative of our efforts, but they are the superheroes in this story.  We move on to the next site, providing communications, and move on again to the next site.  They stay, living in indescribable hardship, giving help and hope to destroyed communities. 

Shaken In Nepal

Working W Nepalese Red Cross - Achyut Bhatterai 

 

The aftershocks, which have been rolling across Kathmandu sporadically since April 25, shake the region almost as much as the initial 7.8 quake.  People are skittish of enclosed spaces.   Families whose houses are still standing continue to sleep in the open.  Aid workers sleep jumpily in the few so-called ‘earthquake proof’ hotels – a  claim that basically gives you time to run from the building before it collapses.  Those of us who brought tents vie for the best empty space — the grassy grounds of a nearby hotel closed since the quake.  Space is tight as IFRC relief units from all over the world pour into Kathmandu airport and then push out toward the epicenter to do the most good among the growing need and casualties.    

Glen Working W Nepalese Red Cross  

Strangely comforting, I keep my portable VHF radio close as I work, monitoring the Red Cross disaster communications network we installed a little over a year ago as part of a joint Earthquake Preparedness Program with the Danish Red Cross.  Glen and I, American Red Cross IT/Telecom Emergency Response Unit (ERU) members, previously spent a month in Kathmandu and the foothills of the Himalayas installing a robust radio communications network that covers the entire Kathmandu Valley.  Funded by the Danish Red Cross and assisted by the Nepalese Red Cross, we dubbed ourselves the ‘Kathman-duo’ and spent that December working with our Nepalese counterparts installing radio repeaters, antennas, solar panels and battery banks on two mountain tops surrounding Kathmandu.  All followed by  training sessions with the Nepalese Red Cross staff and volunteers – allowing daily operational use of the network to widely dispersed districts and chapters.  That month we worked long days and weeks with our Nepalese counterparts; forging friendships which opened our eyes to their culture and people. 

Everest Survivors Who Came By Red Cross Ops Center to Help

 

When Glen and I got the call to deploy to the earthquake, our thoughts were of our friends – they had not responded to our emails.  Were they safe?  Had our disaster preparedness communication network survived? 

Loading Our Satellite Communication Equipment

We sent an email with our airport arrival time and were relieved to see the smiling faces of our Nepalese friends with arms stretched out to welcome us back.  As they loaded our stacks of 70lb cases of VSATs, computer networking and radio equipment, they told us their stories;  where they had been and what they were doing when the quake hit.  Their survivor stories.  In our relief to see them safe and well we forgot to ask about our communications network.  Then we heard a remote voice and our friend Achyut reached for his radio responding to a call from the Nepal Red Cross headquarters. 

Installing internet/comms- Norwegian Red Cross Hospital - Chautaura

The communications network survived. All the planning and hard work paid off; the Danish Red Cross recognized the need and the American Red Cross worked with the Nepalese Red Cross to make it happen. 

Now Glen and I are here in Nepal working the earthquake disaster the only way we know how; supporting the dozens of IFRC disaster response units on the ground with satellite communications, networking and radio capability.  It’s a big job, but once again we are working as a combined team- this time with our New Zealand and Nepal Red Cross counterparts.

All manner of vehicles carting Red Cross Relief Supplies - Food/Water

 

That capacity building project worked – but now we have a bigger challenge.  Do whatever it takes to provide communications  to the ever growing numbers of Red Cross relief and medical teams working across a wide swath of Nepal.  The job here is overwhelming, but we will have a lot of help from our friends. 

 

Glen and Julie Bradley with the American Red Cross IT/T ERU in Nepal

Time Capsule Cuba

Glen in front of our hotel -  newly renovated Hotel Saratoga

Havana is the one place on earth where people who speak English are asked automatically what part of Canada they're from.  But all that is about to change and we considered ourselves part of the first wave of what will become a flood of American tourism as things improve between America and Cuba.  Glen and I had just flown into  Havana on a charter flight from Miami as part of a two week ‘people to people’ visa intended to allow us to authentically experience the ‘real Cuba’.  This first Sunday afternoon we were on our own and we walked to the park across from our renovated, government run Hotel Saratoga; one of Old Havana's two newish five-star hotels, rising above the crumbling ruins of this architecturally rich city.

In old Havana - taxis lined up

Glen and I clearly had different ideas about what to do with this rare free time - our upcoming itinerary spanned much of the island during the next two weeks.  I wanted authentic encounters with Cubans.  Besides limbering up my Spanish for the coming weeks, I was curious how the Cubans regarded Americans, having seen revolutionary propaganda billboards on the way from the airport.  As for Glen, he wanted to look at old cars and see the engines of vintage automobiles.  He lost interest in cultural exchange the minute he walked out of the Havana airport into the parking lot.  We knew that there were a lot of old cars in Cuba, but weren’t prepared for the quantity and quality of 40s and 50s car gems so soon after landing.

Glen's personal favorite

As our Cuban guide introduced herself,  Glen was studying cars.  As our modern, Chinese transport bus pulled away from the curb Glen was studying cars.  There were so many old cars that it seemed like one in every three was a vintage model from the 1940s and 1950s. Glen, a car buff who has restored two vintage cars and two vintage airplanes, kept identifying various years, makes and models.  “That one there is a 1950 Oldsmobile sedan, I wish I could see the engine.” Taking the highway into Havana was like a candy store full of old cars. ‘Here comes a 1947 Hudson, look at that Cadillac…..’   Our guide was basically talking to herself as most everyone was watching the vintage Chevrolets, Fords, and Plymouths as they passed on the other side of the road.

A Russian diesel under the hood

As Glen and I walked across the boulevard in front of the hotel we talked about a compromise of activities for these free hours.  I would greet and meet Cubans for awhile and then he would get to talk cars with the locals.  I turned around and greeted the first person I saw; a middle aged woman rolling a round, white, 5 gallon container that someone had craftily mounted on wheels which contained bits and pieces of a slaughtered pig.  “We are visiting from the United States, I told her in classroom Spanish.  Do you have family there?”.  Her response was immediate and excited.  She gave a big smile with a couple of gaps in her teeth and gave us her full attention, speaking rapidly with sweeping arm gestures.  Yes, she did have family in the United States, but really wanted to talk about what sounded like ‘turtles’.  She spoke so fast it was hard to follow. But we smiled and tried to figure out what she was so excited about.  Testigo, testigo,......Yovah turtles…. maybe that isn’t turtles.  Yep,  here is my dictionary….turtles are tortuga…. testigos are ….. WITNESS.  We had just stopped a Jehovah’s Witness on the streets of Havana carting part of a pig that a friend had slaughtered and given her.  

Back to the 50's - me too!

Glen, who had to turn toward the street to keep from laughing, assisted my exit from this Cuban Jehovah’s Witness and then pointed us toward a line of rare convertibles from the 1950s for hire. Included is a blue and white 1957 Ford, a bright pink 1951 Chevrolet, and a very rare and desirable red 1958 Cadillac convertible. All these cars are essentially taxis.  Ours for the renting.

The cobbled streets of Trinidad, Cuba

It is estimated there are over 60,000 vintage American cars still running in Cuba.  Thousands of American cars were brought into Cuba up until 1960, the year that the United States government declared a trade embargo that stopped all imports. This was a year after Fidel Castro seized power in the January, 1959 revolution that forever changed the face of this  island nation into the new Socialist Republic of Cuba.

Ever since the embargo, resourceful Cubans found innovative ways to keep their beloved and prized American cars in operation.  They could no longer import parts from the U.S. so, sad for car purists, the majority of these cars have been repowered with diesel engines, either from Russia or Japan.

A rare silver color

There is no such thing as a junkyard in Cuba. Everything that would have been junk in America has been repurposed on the old cars.  I never knew how much Glen knows about old cars until he spotted and pointed out substitute parts from one model car used for a different make of car.  This ‘cut and paste’ engineering results in some ingenious workarounds.   A mid-'50s Chevrolet  drives by sporting parts that look they came from an old refrigerator. A 1957 Chevy became a convertible after someone cut the roof off. Glen and I walk up to the line of cars and without a word the owner pops the hood.  He has seen that look before and he and Glen speak the same language - the international language of cars.  The driver explains that he painted the car with house paint and sponges, and shows off his fuel tank - a large plastic water bottle w a complicated feeder system leading to the carburetor.  Further down the line the owner of another topless 1957 Chevrolet proudly lifts the hood to show a Russian-built diesel engine providing the power.

Farming methods from 50s Cuba too

Our tour takes us up and down and all around the island of Cuba and everywhere we see amazingly well preserved American carts from the 40s and 50s.  On the Caribbean side of the island in the 500-year-old city of Trinidad and in the university town of Cienfuegos we see vintage American cars.  But in the farming areas we mostly see horse and ox drawn carts carrying people and crops.  As our two weeks in Cuba come to a close our final destination is a fancy suburb of Havana where luxury hotels line a crumbling concrete seawall.  There are classic car taxis for hire. The last night our entire group exits from a fancy,  privately owned ‘paladar’ in an old mansion and step into waiting taxi convertibles - ours a 1955 Dodge convertible.  A perfect ending for our 2 weeks of time travel.  For classic car fans, there is no place on earth like Cuba.