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Published: April 4th 2008
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The View from my Hotel Window
The pool was actually sea water. Seriously. So for my last week I had booked a trip to Cuba and more specifically its capital, Havana. I had no idea what to expect. What i found was a city which at first glance appeared fairly standard south american fair but as soon as you get in and amongst and get a feel for the place you find a somewhere very different from any other place in the world, certainly any place ive ever been.
Firstly theres the cars. Classic vinatge american cars from the 50s (i dunno what decade, but you know theyre old) in mint condition, all shiny and everything are everywhere. Even for someone like me who has virtually know interest in cars whatsoever there were impressive (esspecially the shiny ones). My dad said Cuban mechanics were sposed to be the best in the world as they keep there cars going for fourty odd years. I can believe it. Buckets of rust flying down the motorway, weaving in and out of traffic with the door hanging off and a couple of chickens in the back was a common sight.
The people of Cuba are amongst the friendliest i have met on my travels. On the
Wall of Flags
Put up to block out the American embassy and a large screen they erected to show anti communist and Castro propoganda. Ingenious. There is sposed to be a cuban flag ontop of each one but i think someone had died so there was a few black ones up instead. basis that you buy them a couple oif mohitos on the way, they will happily show you round and explain everything you will ever need to know. My unofficial lickered up tour guide was called Roberto. He took me through the old part of town where he lived. Every other building seemed to be a dance hall for salsa with the music and mohitos flowing out into the street. Roberto was training to be a doctor at the very prestigous Havanna medical school and spoke perfect english, despite him never having left his country of birth. None of the cubans i spoke to had ever been outside the countries borders which makes their grasp of English pretty amazing. In any other country in South and Central America (and infact the world for that matter) you here multi lingual trainee doctor and you think money. I dont think this appiled to Roberto. He explained that he probably will never afford to move out of his parents flat and at one point we went to collect an extra bag of rice he was owed from a mate he had done some work for thats he was to bring back home to his
parents. Rice amongst other basic food stuff forms part of the food package which Cubans recieve every month. I think he told me a pound of rice a month was what his household recieved it and thats your lot. You cant just pop down to Tescos if you run out. The only grocery stores except only the coupons you recieve every month that you exchange for your food parcel. And theres certainly no supermarkets. In this way items such as bags of rice become a currency of their own.
One of the things you can buy with money in Cuba is ice cream, and outside of the hotels (which Cubans dont have access to, though i think this is in the process of changing) the only place to go is a weird looking steel tent thing known as the Coppelia. Apparently years ago, during better economic times you could get up to 54 different flavours in this rare place of luxary for the Cubans. Now they only serve one flavour which changes from day to day. Strawberrry on the day i went. The place is still very popular. 35,000 Cubans visit it each day and i had to wait
well over half an hour in line for my three scoops.
I dont wanna paint a grim picture of Cuba and the people who run it. A trip to the Museum of the Revolution (a slightly biased retelling of the history but interesting all the same) highlights the major improvements in a whole range of aspects that the people of Cuba have seen in the forty odd years since Castro and his mates took over. Firstly they got rid of all the Americans (always a good start) and the Mafia and the casinos and brothels and strip bars (personally i think they cud have left one. Strip bar thats is not American). The Islands fairground rides for sleazy American businessmen and politicians and pissed up marines were transformed into much needed social ammenities, hospitals, schools, universities, libraries made available to all people free of charge. Measurements of quality of life such as child infant mortaility rates, literacy, % of children in higher education and life expectancy are far higher here than in any part of South America and according to the stats in the Museum comparable with that of the States. Its all very strange and contradictory but as
Havanna - City of Lovers
They say the best things in life are free. Which if you live in a communist run state going through hard financial times is a good thing my dad said (hes very wise) whatever you think of modern day Cuba and the Revolution its a dam site better than what it replaced.
I dont really know what to make of it all really. The people seem happy and full of life but its not like they have much choice. In their situation theres not much else to do except drink Mohitos, dance salsa and generally get on with it. There knowledge of the happenings of the outside world is heavily controlled through censorship and restriction of internet use and a state run media. Maybe their happyness comes from ingnorance or maybe they just dont fancy all that Maccydeees and KFC from across the Florida Straits. Personally i like to see them given the choice and then the majority to turn round and say thanks but no thanks. However i think thats probably both unrealistic and hypocritical on my part (I do like those Meatball Subways).
Im back in Mexico now. My finall full day of my trip before the long flight home. I hope im not stuck next to someone who wants to chat at length about their holiday, or a fat person who sweats
Hall of Mirrors
In the Museum Of the Revolution a lot esspecially wen they get nervous during flying, or any children under the age of 15 who havnt been sedated first. Apart from that i dont mind.
Im actually pretty excited to be coming home now and seeing everyone.
Hasta Pronto (see ya soon).
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