Rainy Days in Havana

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From the bus station, I got a (CUC) “colectivo” taxi to my next casa particular. I had asked Débora if she knew any casas particulares in which I could stay and she arranged for me to go and stay with her “great friend” Isobel.

Isobel lives near to the Universdad de La Habana with her daughter and elderly mother. They all seem very friendly. I was introduced to Juanita, Isobel’s cousin who they employ as a house keeper.

I had dinner at the house, then Isobel told me that today was the anniversary of the foundation of Havana, and everyone in the town went to walk three times round an old tree around midnight to make three wishes because supposedly if you do it then, they will all come true.

Well, I was travelling, and up for anything so I said yes.

Isobel, two of her friends and I caught a taxi into the centre of Havana. Then followed what I can only describe as an insight into how Habaneros think: we queued for 2.5 hours to, yes, walk round the tree three times! It was 1am by the time we finished and I was knackered.

In the 1990s, there were terrible shortages of everything in Cuba and people had to queue all the time. Even today, they don’t consider 2.5 hours a long time. The queue was very good natured and there was no queue-jumping.

We had a short wander around Habana Vieja, then caught a taxi back. It was interesting to see locals having a hard time beating taxi drivers down in price.

I paid both ways. I didn’t mind as I was obviously the wealthiest person there. But none of the “girls” even thanked me for it, which would have been all I’d wanted and that narked me a bit.

I had a lie-in the following day. Then, Juanita cooked me breakfast. It had to be the worst breakfast I’d had in Cuba: a small omelette, some bread, a little juice and a small coffee. No fruit. I had to ask for something to put on the bread.

I was still eating breakfast, when Juanita started to make up the bill for my four nights’ stay. This unnerved me as the etiquette elsewhere had been to pay at the end of the stay. Still, it helped with budgeting for my last few days to pay up front. Then she tried to flog me pirated DVDs at CUC3 each. I felt rather pissed off about that and politely declined.

This all made me reflect on the variety of places I’ve stayed in this trip and how the rooms I’ve stayed in, and the food has varied. Back at Geraldo and Eloisa’s place, I had amazing food. Everywhere else, it’s been extremely good.

I have friends who have been to Cuba and stayed mainly in hotels. They said the food in Cuba was really bad. I guess if you are paying what (here) is a lot of cash directly to the person, you eat well as they have an incentive, unlike in a hotel.

Then, it started raining hard. The weather for the rest of my stay was very patchy: some sunshine, but a lot of rain each day.

In the afternoon, I went into town and did indoor stuff.

The Museo de la Revolución is in the former dictator, Fulgencio Batista’s old residence. It went into way too much detail on the various battles of the revolutionary war, but there were some interesting gems nonetheless. One was the waxworks of Revolution heroes Che Guevara and Camilo Cienfuegos, stepping dramatically out of a thicket. The other was out back where various relics from the Playa Girón (Bay of Pigs) victory and the Granma, the boat on which Fidel, Che and friend sailed on fifty years ago next month.

I had at first thought that “Granma” was some kind of Cuban word. Actually, the boat had been bought from an American couple who’d affectionately named their boat after their grand mother. It’s quite funny that this is now the name of the official party paper!

After that, I went to the two buildings of the Museo de Bellas Artes. This was really impressive and on a par with a European museum. The first building covered Cuban art; the second was from everywhere else. There were impressive sections on Rome, Greece and Egypt and paintings from Europe. It was kind of strange to see British Art.

There were hardly any tourists: almost as many staff!

I had a bizarre incident in one gallery. I got talking to a curator who, when I told her I was from Scotland, started acting sword dancing. I could see she was doing it wrong (you’re not supposed to move your hips) and showed her (as best I could) how to do it. This was very strange indeed! I never thought I of all people would be showing a Cuban how to dance!

That night, there were live bands playing on the steps outside the university. It was part of the city’s anniversary celebrations.

It had to be the soberest student gathering I’ve ever seen! No one was drinking. I think it’s partly because alcohol is actually very expensive here for locals, but it may also have been due to the extremely large police presence. It did seem to be more than you’d need for normal crowd control. I was confused, because Geraldo had told me they didn’t have any student demonstrations in Cuba...

While there, I bumped into Dominga, one of Isobel’s friends from the other night. She introduced me to John, a US citizen who’s lodging with her while learning to play the drums.

He was an odd, but interesting guy. He’d come out here having done no research first. A friend drove him to Tijuana, he caught a plane to Cancun, then waited two days for a flight to Cuba. Once here, he found himself a music school and sorted out lessons. He’s planning to stay for several months. He didn’t even have a guide book and wanted to buy my one.

I feel sorry for Americans. When they return, if the US government finds out they’ve been to Cuba, they can get fined USD50,000!

John is a nice guy. When he found out I was from Scotland, he said: “Oh, that’s by Norway isn’t it? My ancestors are from there!” Then, he asked me what Scottish people thought about “the situation”, which people have been asking him about everywhere he goes abroad. We both knew what he was talking about.

The following day, I went on the tour of the Partagas tobacco factory. Despite being a bit touristy, they didn’t seem to have changed the place at all for us and it was a fascinating insight into the Cuban work place! They roll all cigars by hand and get paid in pesos. But they do get to keep three cigars a day, and that must allow someone to make something on the black market... but you certainly won’t buy them from the jineteros who stop you in the street all the time to offer cigars!

Our tour guide was one of the moodiest I’ve ever seen! She was quite funny actually.
I went back to the house early, because I was meeting Débora for a private Spanish lesson. It was useful to have one last lesson as it reinforced the practice I’d got in the two weeks since I’d last seen her. After we finished our class, an English tutor came in. The family rent their kitchen out for private English lessons. I saw and heard of lots of other ways that Cubans supplement their meagre wages.

That evening, I got talking to Leonardo, Isobel’s ex-husband and father of their daughter, who came round to the house to visit. It was a fascinating conversation.

He started off by telling me how the East of Cuba is so much poorer than the west and how most of the bicycle taxi drivers/prostitutes/jineteros/etc in Havana come from the East; and of course most of them are black. Whether true, or prejudiced, it underlined the rivalry between different parts of this country.

Then we got to the scary part: what happens after Fidel dies.

He reckoned that first; the regime would cover it up for a couple of months to prepare the secret police. And Then; people would celebrate his death. Leonardo used the word “dictator” to describe Fidel and was very bitter.

Then, Cuba would endure capitalism as bad as in Russia and Colombia; with drugs, mafia and prostitution.

He told me he earned just 250Ps per month from his administrator job.

After that, we talked about Haiti, (the neighbouring country, on the Island of Hispaniola) which he visited last year for an NGO. This is a very sad place. On the way from the airport, he felt he must have been in a desert, because so many people have cut down trees for fuel. There were abandoned farms. It was too dangerous for him to visit most of the offices he was supposed to and he was embarrassed that even as a Cuban, he felt rich compared to these people.

When I told him about Geraldo and Eloisa, he said that most of the houses in Miramar belonged to those who had fled the revolution. They’d since been expropriated by the government. He laughed when I told him Geraldo’s theory about students in Cuba not demonstrating because they are for the revolution.

I also heard a conspiracy theory, which apparently is held by many Cubans, about Fidel deliberately sending Che on his mission to Bolivia, knowing he’d die; and about the plane crash which killed Camilo Cienfuegos being “mysterious”. I have no idea about the truth, but this is the kind of country that breeds conspiracy and it was fascinating to hear what people think!

That night, during the heavy rain, there were a couple of power cuts. This has happened most of the times we’ve had bad weather here. I lent people my head torch and it proved a hit yet again!

The following morning, Juanita announced she’d be taking Sunday off and this would be the last time I saw her. I was relieved as she really had been doing her head in with her nicey-niceyness. She had taken a real shine to my head torch and dropped lots of hints about me giving it to her.

I had decided that for that evening, I was going to have my one and only meal in a “proper” restaurant. I realised this would cost more than what I’m paying for my room here and that the house would welcome the money so much more, and I felt really bad about it! Despite Juanita’s persuasion, I stuck to it. It really sucks knowing just how poor Cubans are. I’m sure I’d have been much happier in the blissful ignorance of a hotel!

I went for a long walk around Havana. First, up to Plaza de la Revolución. This has a giant statue of Independence hero Jose Martí (a figure you see everywhere in Cuba even though he’s virtually unknown outside) which is upstaged by the large metal line drawing of El Che who looks across the square to him.

Then, I revisited Blanca, as promised. She had written a letter for me to bring to Jan. She seemed a bit upset that I had not gone to stay with her in her casa particular. My CUC25 is worth a lot here!

After that, I walked the length of the Malecon; past the “US Special Interests” office (the nearest thing to an embassy) which is surrounded by Cuban posters and flags and even a stage for holding demonstrations. Quite fascinating! Much further along, ordinary Cubans were fishing and generally enjoying their Saturday. Havana is such a scenic place! The situation by the sea, the buildings, the cars, the people - round every corner there’s another photo opportunity!

That evening, I found my restaurant. It was an experience that made me glad I’d spent the rest of my time in casas particulares!

Firstly, the staff spoke to me only in English, despite my trying to speak to them in Spanish. And brought me an English-only menu. This felt really weird! I didn’t fancy imported wine, so asked for water. They brought “Pellegrino”, imported all the way from Italy!

I had lobster. It was nice; but the whole experience of sitting there in a posh restaurant; with white tablecloths and other tourists; paying what, to Cubans is an immense amount for a meal; and a pianist playing pastiches of Guantánamera made me feel uncomfortable.

For my last morning, I went back into Habana Vieja and had a last look round. I felt ready to go home.

I got no sleep on my Virgin flight back. Having had no nasty incidents of theft or loss in Cuba, I was careless not to padlock my pack on a train between Gatwick airport and Dorking. I put the bag up on the overhead shelf when the train got crowded with some public school kids. When I got off the train, the bag had been opened and a pouch had been stolen. Amongst the things gone was the head torch! I’d far rather Juanita have had it than some toe-rag at a posh Surrey school. Luckily, my camera was not there and I did not lose anything irreplaceable, save for some old newspapers and tickets. I count that as a lesson: never drop your guard while travelling; and never trust school kids!

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Well, I hope if you have read this far that you have enjoyed this account of my time in Cuba. I realise it’s been a slightly skewed view... I seem to have focussed a lot on the political situation in the country. I could have had a very different holiday, looking at the music and beaches and countryside; but the political situation is one of the things that makes Cuba so unique, not to mention fascinating. I was there for only three weeks. If I go again, I can spend more time doing those other things. And I may just do so - assuming they let me into the country of course!

110 year of unfair treatment from USA gives an interesting perspective on the World. The Cuban regime is right to be paranoid: "they" really are out to get it! I do fear for the inevitable change. I hope it will be as painless as possible. But the situation as it is unsustainable.

The country was propped up by the Soviet Union for years, but it had to find a way to pay its way in the world. It discovered tourism.

Now, tourists with great piles of money have arrived and suddenly this socialist utopia has been turned upside down. The prices tourists are charged don’t bear any relation to the actual costs to Cubans. Correspondingly, there is so much money to be made from tourism that it has a very distortive effect on the country. Tourists are viewed as walking cash machines and someone who works as a doorman in a hotel earns more money and gets more respect than a surgeon.

Without CUC, you can’t do much. I converted CUC20 to Ps, but used less than a quarter of it. I ended up giving the rest to Débora.

It was interesting to meet an East German at the beginning of my stay. There is an good compare-and-contrast exercise there!

For now, the difference between rich and poor is less than most other places. Most people are poor, but I didn’t see anyone starve.

Cubans live a hard life. This is the overwhelming impression I’ve had during my time and it colours my view of the country. I think I have a wholly different view to what I’d have had if I were a package tourist at a resort or even if I’d stayed in Havana, but in a hotel.

Most people without government connections are dirt poor. Despite the rhetoric about “Revolution”, there is a ruling elite and if you’re not part of it, you will not get ahead.

In Havana, there are some fancy shops, cafés and restaurants. They all charge in CUC.

And it is not a democracy. I tried to explain to Geraldo that in the UK, if you want to read news from a left wing perspective, you have the Independent, the New Statesman, etc, but you have other sources and can see lots of points of view.

I have changed the names of all the Cubans I met.

But it’s very safe in Cuba! I had no fear of walking around at night by myself. This cannot be said for most places in Latin America.

As for Fidel, we saw scarcely any footage of him on TV. In fact, his face appeared only fleetingly. It was a long time before I even knew what his voice sounded like. His health is a state secret, so that is bound to lead to speculation.

The blockade is bonkers. It holds back the development of the country and causes hardship. Yet, if the USA were smart, it would lift the embargo because then the regime could no longer blame it for the country’s problems and you would probably very soon have “regime change”.

But then, all the Miami exiles and US corporations would demand “their” property back and I do fear what might happen then.

Because everything is so scarce here, people save and recycle everything. You often see plastic bags being dried on washing lines. Unintentionally, it’s a very “green” country! What's more, while people are desperate for cash for basic items, there is not yet much materialism.

And, three months later, my three wishes have not yet come true! We will have to see...

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Photos

That tree again!
In daylight. With no queues....

View from the Museo de la Revolución
It was a drab, rainy day when this picture was taken.

Havana transport
Those amazing things are called "Coco Taxis".

Che and Camilo
Stride out of a bush.

The Granma
The boat in which Fidel, Che and chums sailed back from exile to start the Revolutionary War.

The Union Jack flies over Havana
Yes, strange as it may sound, we owned this place for 11 months in 1762!

School busses
Looks like they were donated by Quebec.

La Bodeguita del Medio
Favourite haunt of Ernest Hemingway. Now popular with the tourists.