CUBAN TRANSITIONS

I shouldn’t have been surprised, based on Cuba’s history. But I was. The variety of styles of roof that I say amazed me. Starting with the thatched roof we saw at Las Terrazas. You have to understand that thatched roofs are among the most annoying misconceptions about living in the Caribbean. “Does your house have a thatched roof?” is right up there on the list with “Does your country have electricity?” and “Do you ride dolphins to school?” There it was, though. Right on the top of the hill on our tour at Las Terrazas: a thatched roof. Luckily, that roof is just a part of the tour, and is there, along with the mill, as a relic of the nineteenth century.

The roof of the mill at the french coffe plantation at Las Terazzas. And Gordon.

The dining room of the French plantation had a very simple-style of overlapping clay tiles with a wooden A-frame ceiling. Clay is known for its even heat distribution and insulating properties. Highly impractical, and probably impossible to cool, I’m sure that eating in that dining room must have been like eating in a sauna.

The ceiling of the dining room.

What surprised me most, however, were the Spanish-style ceramic tiling that I saw very often. To me, having Spanish-style tiles on your roof is a sign of wealth. They can become cracked due to flying objects in the wind during hurricanes and they are a lot harder than shingles to repair. Also, these tiles, like clay, are fantastic conductors of heat. Although they’re fantastic at keeping out the rain because, unlike shingles, they won’t just wear down, again, if they do crack, they have to be fixed hastily. Because of the insulation properties, I also look at Spanish-style tiles and assume that anyone with those tiles has enough resources to have a fantastic air-conditioning system. Except for the tiles on the roof of the Barlovento, I highly doubt that this s the case in Cuba.

The roof of the Barlovento.

Our fancy hotel at Varadero was not the only place we saw these kinds of tiles. There was also this style of tiling at the slave dwelling near Torre Vigía in el Valle de los Ingenios. Again, this really did not  fit in with my impression of Spanish-style tiles. Just another way for Cuba to show me that I can’t assume the same things in all parts of the world. As a former Spanish colony, Spanish-style tiles are not at all odd, and they give no particular impression of the inhabitants of that particular building. It’s just another part of the rich history and culture of Cuba, and after a while I finally realized that and stopped gawking at every tiled roof that I saw.