Scammed!!

Friday morning and the Turtles are up early for the hotel breakfast (given their limited cash supply, they tuck into the hard boiled eggs (or black eggs, as Tiny calls them), stale toast, grapefruit, old guavas and bitter pancakes).

Then they hit the streets, or rather, the streets hit them… They were barely out of the hotel when a friendly looking woman fell in step next to them.  She cooed about Tiny and then asked where the Turtles were from.  The Turtles made the mistake of engaging with her and told them that, as it was a public holiday, many places would be closed to the public. She then informed the Turtles that there would be a concert at the theatre later on and it was free for children.

The Turtles, ever-wary, thanked her for the information but walked off towards the Capitolio (like the US Capitol building, apparently only bigger).  Before the Turtles reached the Capitolio, someone called out behind them: “Hey, Sud Africa!”  They turned, confused, to see a guy walking hand-in-hand with his girlfriend.  “You don’t remember me?”  “No”, replied the Turtles, now a little embarrassed.  “I work at the Hotel Telegrafo (which is where we stayed) and today is my day off. How long are you here for?”  After introducing themselves (Alfredo and Susan) a number of social questions and remarks about the Soccer World Cup and Nelson Mandela they landed the knock-out:  “Are you going to buy cigars?”  “Yes” answered the Turtles (it is almost compulsory to buy Cuban cigars when in Cuba, right?), “we are on our way to the cigar factory now”.

“Oh, “ they said in unison, “but today is holiday so factory closed!  But not to worry, you can still buy cigars at a co-operation and it is much cheaper than the factory.”

“Co-operation? Where is the co-operation?” asked the curious, and very stupid, Turtles.

“It is on our way, come we will show you!” and off they went. The three Turtles and their two new, very friendly friends.  They held hands, then Alfredo (Clyde) walked to Tony’s side to chat while Susan (Bonnie) asked Myrtle about  Tiny and told her about her children.

 Then they stopped at a very dark entrance and ushered the Turtles into an even darker corridor.  The Turtles  felt the hairs on their necks stand on end. “Hierdie voel nie reg nie, man” (“this doesn’t feel right, husband” in Afrikaans, of course).  But still they let themselves be led into a tiny apartment. Myrtle became aware of a tall man that appeared out of the shadows with the outline of something that resembled a pistol in his hand.

Her knees went weak and her throat was as dry as a cork in an instant...  “Man, het hy ‘n geweer?” she croaked (“Husband, does he have a gun?”). The warning bells were ringing so loud that the Turtles couldn’t hear each other speak.  It turned out that the shadow-guy wasn’t packing a gun, but the adrenaline rush made the Turtles’ minds go into overdrive to get out of there alive (not to mention Tiny, who was patiently taking off all the fridge magnets while her parents were trying desperately not to get killed – who would ever have found the Turtles’ cadavers?). 

So they decided to play along.  After much arguing and bartering they got away with 5 Cohiba cigars and their lives.  The Turtles knew that they were duped the moment they stepped into that dingy flat but did what they thought best to survive.

After they left the dodgy apartment, Bonnie and Clyde disappeared into the crowd.  Obviously not in a relationship, obviously working with the woman at the theatre and obviously pros.   Shell-shocked but relieved, the Turtles walked to the Capitolio and, while admiring the building, saw the cigar factory.  It was NOT closed as it was NOT a public holiday… Duh!

The Turtles went on the tour of the cigar factory where every cigar is hand rolled.  It turns out our scam artist friends sold the Turtles real Cohibas but for more than what the factory sells them for.  Ah well, lesson learned.

The Turtles had a friendly guide to themselves who showed them the intricacies of cigar rolling.  Learner cigar rollers have to train for 9 months before they can start rolling cigars that may be sold to the public.  Tobacco leaves are sorted, based on texture and colour – the dark leaves are used for the outside layer and the best quality leaves are used to make Cohiba cigars (they were reportedly smoked by Fidel Castro but the unofficial rumour is that he has quit smoking), then Monte Cristo, then Bolivar, then Partagas etc. The leaves are sorted by hand, rolled by hand, the labels are manually attached and the boxes the cigars are stored in are also made by hand. Tony was sorely disappointed as none of the cigars were rolled on the inner thigh of a virgin.  In fact, they weren’t even rolled on the thigh of a non-virgin…

Even though cigar rolling may not be everybody’s first career choice, it comes with certain perks.  The workers have to make a certain number of cigars per month.  If they make more than their quota, they receive a bonus.  However, each bundle of cigars is marked by the roller and every single cigar is checked for quality.  If a certain roller’s cigars are consistently of a poor quality, they have to return their salary for that day.

But the working environment seems extremely pleasant (except for the smoking – of course you can smoke in a cigar factory!) – the workers get up and make themselves coffee and sandwiches when they wish, which they consume between the rolling.  They chat incessantly to each other and they are only quiet when the guy who reads the newspaper sits at the microphone.  Yes, the newspaper is read to them while they work.  Apparently novels are also read when they are finished with the newspaper…  There is a lot of greeting going on throughout the day – kissing and hand shaking and it feels like one big happy family.  Every worker is given three cigars a day (and they keep the best quality) which they either smoke or sell.  The guide picked a cigar out of a roller’s heap which he gave to Tony and of course all the workers were smitten by Tiny – the guide carried her around like a trophy and receiving many remarks, whistles and giggles from the workers in return. 

Hopefully this little educational tour won’t result in Tiny being a smoker when she is older.  Myrtle will have to start scrapping photos of cancerous lungs as a deterrent.  Sigh.