Havana seemed like it was
doomed not to happen. Cheuk had been corresponding with the
potential story subject Miguel Chang, owner of El Flamboyan, for
nearly a year. The combined factors after 9/11 and my dear papa
fallen ill both slow down our travel plans.
Dad passed away this summer and I told Cheuk I was ready to go
back on the road regardless of George Bush’s plans. But a week
before our flight, we got word that Miguel suffered a heart
attack and has been hospitalized. Communication with Cuba is a
reminder of China thru the 70’s… extremely slow and inefficient.
The phone lines are really bad and email is non-existent. So we
had no idea what kind of shape he is in or if he is even
alive. But we decided to let fate be our production manager and
just show up to see what happens.
We arrive in Havana this morning and met up with our Chinese
Peruvian interpreter Valeria Chu. For my opening shot, I film
her in an amusing argument with the cabby who tries to
overcharge us for the joy ride into Barrio Chino. The clip was
priceless.
When we arrive, I’m in shock to find a bad set from a
Cindy Lauper music video… decked out in tacky “oriental curios”
and red lanterns… hosts and hostesses wearing cheongsam and
kung-fu outfits with pigtails and coolie hats. I wanna fire the
whole goddamn set decorator and wardrobe department.
As we are settling in to play a bit of tourist we get hustled by
Luis Chung, a roly-poly street hustler with ears like an
elephant. You can innocently mutter the words cigars, bongos or
even girls and he’ll come running miles away out of nowhere to
tell you he can get it cheap from his “cozzin”. Whatever it
takes to make a buck… for the rest of our trip, I call him… my
“cozzin Luis”.
Luis gives us an impromptu interview on the patio of Luna de Oro
where he doubles as a waiter and customer wrangler meaning he
stands outside in his politically incorrect coolie outfit and
pulls customers in for a kick back. For my camera, he glorifies
Castro and praises his Chinese heritage. I’m not sure how long
he has been this “born again Chinaman” or is this merely an act
to seduce us and other unsuspecting tourists. You can only take
my cozzin Luis with a grain of salt. You never know how much is
truth or dare. One thing I’m sure of is that his “wise guy”
street colloquialism is having a hay day with Valeria’s proper
Spanish.
As we make our way to the end of the strip, we get busted again.
This time by a tartly woman in halter top and hot pants at least
two to three sizes too small. When she approached to speak with
Cheuk, I mistook her for a hooker trying to pull a trick. But it
was much too early in the day. It turns out she works for Grupo
Promotor del Barrio Chino de La Habana, a Castro agency
responsible for the rejuvenation of the Fantasia Chinesca that
we are now in. We’re not sure if she objected to us filming in
Cantonese or just for talking to my unsavoury cozzin Luis. But
she wants to haul Cheuk in to to see the president. However, we
got what we need and agreed to put our camera away for the time
being.
Before leaving the Grupo turf, we drop in on Miguel who lives
just on the edge of this Grupo Disneyland. Miguel is back from
the hospital and recovering at home. He is sleeping on his couch
with the TV blasting when we arrive. This is a strange but
common phenomenon with the elderly. My dad usually has his TV
and the radio blasting simultaneously with his Chinese programs
on. Could be just bad hearing. But Miguel was very weak. We
could barely hear him when he tried to say something to us. It
didn’t look like we would be able to shoot our original story.
But we were confident that maybe my cozzin would help us find
another as we did in Madagascar.
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