We are the whitest of the whites and had no clue what we were in for when my coworkers invited us to ‘Calle Ocho’ in Miami over the weekend. Apparently, when you Google “What is Calle Ocho?” A Pitbull song comes up as the first hit but digging a little deeper I found out what I didn’t really grasp on Sunday. It’s a ginormous street festival celebrating all things Cuban. Duh. It’s in “Little Havana” (and we ended up eating Puerto Rican food. Go figure).
It was like a Taste of Chicago, celebrating Cuban culture (well, among others who were insistent on representing), except you don’t purchase tickets to trade for food and there’s no fireworks. I don’t think. Tons of people gathered on a 8 block stretch of Calle Ocho and ate, drank and apparently there were performers (pretty sure Pitbull being one) but we didn’t get that far into the throng to even get to check that out. Nor did we see any fun costumes. We pretty much stayed on the outskirts and got our Puerto Rican food and bailed. Quickly. Not that it didn’t feel safe or wasn’t fun… Maybe it was a combination of none of us being Cuban.. or Puerto Rican.. some of us were drunk and it was too much too handle… and then some of us didn’t wear the right shoes (yours truly) so we had blisters forming on our big toe.
So here’s what I caught on film at “one of the biggest street festivals in the world.” Hm. According to about.com anyway.
I’m hitting the gym hard. Harder than I ever have before – even before our wedding! Muscles are sore in my upper body that I never knew I had. I couldn’t even wash my hair in the shower this morning. Pa-the-tic! I’m hoping the class tonight is pilates. Ugh. Please. Hopefully after 8 classes I will still be alive and eating. We’ll see… stay tuned.
enjoy your Cuban meals!