"The people that we have seen and worked with this week are very poor. But are they poor? In many ways, they are very wealthy. Wealthier than we are in that Judaism means so much to them… they have Judaism in their hearts."

As is only fitting on the day of rest, we got to sleep in and catch the bus at the decadently late hour of 10 am. The first place Arnaldo ferried us was Adat Israel, the city's Orthodox synagogue. Unlike the Patronato or Centro Sepharadi, this one did not have a prominent façade on a wide street. Rather, we got off the bus on a small side street and ducked down some stairs into the shul's basement.

As the service had actually started closer to 9 am, though, the part we arrived for only ended up lasting about an hour-and-a-half. Which is probably good because, since men and women had to sit separately, there was no opportunity for spouse to ask spouse the traditional temple questions: "What page are we on?" and "How much longer now?"

When services were over, the shul had us stay for lunch at tables nearby. Over fried fish and rice and beans on colorful molded lunch trays, we listened to a D'var Torah given in a strangely Philadelphia-accented dialect of Spanish. Turns out the speaker was an American physician who spent his off-time with the Havana Jews because he couldn't stay away from Cuba. With less than two days left, I think some of us could relate to the feeling.

After lunch, we went off to engage in the time-honored Shabbat activity of our people: buying cigars. Inside the richly scented store, Cigar Czar Randy quickly took charge, doling out expert opinions and buying advice, and offering a brief primer on the export/import laws that pertain to the American tourist's favorite contraband.

Next up was the flea market, for those on the trip suffering from a crucial shortage of Che images, wooden drinking/smoking implements, or cigar-shaped phallic symbols in our lives. A maverick, independent-minded, breakaway faction (okay, just Sheryl & I) went to the Museum de la Revolucion, only to learn that we were bourgeouis Yankees fascist/imperalist thugs. Who knew?

The last planned activity for this day was a briefing with Lou Nigro, Deputy Chief of Mission of the American "Interests Section" of Cuba. Even for a diplomat, Lou was extremely diplomatic, always careful with his words and pointed in his conclusions. He made the case that Cuba's problems are not due to the U.S. embargo so much as Castro's unwillingness to open up sectors of the economy other than tourism to foreign investment. And, he repeatedly urged us to contact our legislators if we had opinions on changing U.S. policy toward Cuba. In sum, Lou provided a thought-provoking counterpoint to Reinaldo Taladrid, allowing us to hear both sides of the U.S.-Cuba story. For me at least, listening to both these speakers didn't so much clarify the issues as make them even more complex.

The rest of Saturday afternoon and evening was free time. Some went to a paladar, some to a baseball game, some to hear music and dance. Since we were all on our own, I can't tell you what everyone did. But I'll have an update soon, when I get my report in from Castro's security agents.