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Published: September 6th 2010
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After a short sojourn in the plastic beach city of Cancun, Mexico (not short enough in my opinion) I made my way to Cuba, a small country filled with big ideas.
To be honest I wasn’t sure really what to expect from Cuba and with only ten days of travel I would barely scratch the surface. After dutifully paying my tax and getting my bags scanned for sharp objects, or perhaps anti communist propaganda on leaving the airport I was on the island.
At first sight arriving in Habana does feel like stepping into another world. Bar my plush taxi there were hardly many other cars on the road. Most people were walking, dressed in simple summer shorts and tshirts. Entering the old town did feel like a step back in time, surrounded by dilapidated but beautiful terraced buildings and kids playing on the streets. It is a raw and uniquely beautiful city. However, what I really wanted to find out was..what made these people tick?
As a tourist it is hard to really interact with the local people. Government controls restrict tourists from using the local currency and Cubans are forbidden to host foreigners in their homes without special
permits. Cubans also have restricted access to information; the few with internet have strict filters controlling the sites they access. Ultimately the Cuban government has created a barrier between Cuba and the outside world, not even allowing their people to leave the country.
The increase of tourism, however, especially in Habana has allowed some outside influence to slowly trickle through. Some Cubans I came across were yearning for a life outside Cuba or turning to tourists for money, unhappy with what they saw as a meagre existence. As I walked the cobbled streets men yelled out ‘hey you want a Cuban boyfriend!, simply wanting a plane ticket out’ or Jineteros would offer to take you dancing, only to demand money for the evening. I was approached by so many people that constantly asked for dinero. This, I thought, is not a country of contentment.
The people don’t talk much about government, just admitting that they don’t have much money and things are tough. I was resting in a plaza one day, listening to a Cuban band playing salsa at a tourist restaurant when a lady came up to me. Expecting the usual request for money I ignored her. However
she was not after money, just conversation. She was eager to talk politics and told me how the government had arrested her three times and had put her into a psychiatric hospital for speaking against their views. She said she didn’t care; she was still going to say what she thought. She had friends that she had met from Australia and wanted me to take some letters for her, since the government regimentally scans the mail for ‘suspicious’ content.
Still, I was keen to find another side of Cuba. As I walked around during the night, completely safe I saw people in party mode. Families blasted reggaeton and danced with each other on the streets outside their houses. Men sat and played dominoes on tables set outside simple cafes. People smiled and joked with each other. There was a happy energy in the air. The old buildings and cobbled streets had a vibrant glow in the moonlight. During the day I saw local families hanging out at the nearby beach, squealing in fascination at the bluebottles washing up on the shore, listening to music and drinking rum. Perhaps Cuba was not only the land of discontent.
I moved from the
city to Vinales, a small town surrounded by tobacco farms and breathtaking sheer cliff faces. The people here were mostly farmers. The lucky ones own a horse and cart, a motorbike or catch the rickety circa 1960 local bus. Most people walk, kids sometimes taking an hour to get to and from school. I stayed in a Casa Particular which is basically a government registered bed and breakfast. Local families pay a government fee and tourists can stay in their house. It is the cheapest option for travellers and definitely a bit more authentic than staying in a hotel.
My casa was owned by a couple, both teachers. They were a very welcoming pair and made me feel like part of the family. I watched telenovelas with them and played with their dog, all the while practising my bad Spanish. I hired a bike from the house and rode through country roads lined with green fields to the local school where the Senora taught. It was a simple one room school, with a world map and posters of Che. I spoke to the children and taught a little English. The people around here grow tobacco and give 80% to the
government. Everyone earns the same, brain surgeons have the same pay as garbage collectors. The people in Vinales seem happy with their lot, just getting on with life as it is, simple but beautiful.
So are they happy? That’s a hard question to answer. On the one hand they have free education and medical care and everyone has a roof over their heads. The other side of the coin, their life is far from perfect. Communism is great in theory but essentially flawed. The pursuit of happiness is a difficult thing in Cuba, but not impossible. Indeed I think you will find everyone all over the world is in the same pursuit, but it’s how you see your life that counts. When life gives you lemons....
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