Cuba. The images abound: sunshine and salsa, Castro and communism and revolution in the heart of the palm-fringed Caribbean. Perhaps more than any other country romantic preconceptions have become fixed for outsiders, and legend has come to surround this island. But it is precisely for this reason that visitors should endeavour to see the place for themselves, in order to gauge the reality and move beyond the myth.
After the breakdown of the Soviet system in 1991, Cuba entered what is known euphemistically as the Periodo Especial (Special Period), with financial support cut and political alliance dissolved. Without the support of its long-term benefactor and still the subject of US embargo, the nation found itself looking for other forms of vital foreign revenue. Opening up to tourism was the solution grudgingly formulated and Cuba, closed for many years to foreigners, once again became a world tourist destination.
Nowadays, those seeking a hassle-free beach holiday can find luxury purpose built resorts in Cuba which cater for the all-inclusive bucket-and-spade crowd. As in other parts of the Caribbean, these places have been kept carefully away from the local population and the grittiness of local life. One such resort, Cayo Coco, is located on an archipelago along the northeast coast of the island, linked to the mainland only by a causeway of some 27 miles. Consisting entirely of high class hotels, facilities and other tourist attractions, the place is totally sterile of Cuban influence, and since 2005 even has its own airport. Outsiders see neither hide nor hair of the culture in places such as these and risk no interaction with the locals. Consequently, they leave their exotic destination somewhat confused about where they have actually been.
More adventurous travellers risk visiting Cuba independently, hoping to catch a taste of a vanishing world and urged by tourist guides to ‘go now before it’s too late.’ Touching down at Jose Marti International airport, and the visitor steps immediately into a time warp. Hardly off the plane, the visitor is confronted by tobacco smoke, stifling humidity and groups of people milling around and socialising against the backdrop of garish red plastic and concrete polytechnic architecture. The airport is a vision from 1970s Africa. The hustling starts immediately as the travellers look for taxis and change dollars and euros into the convertible pesos, the obligatory currency for outsiders only available within Cuba.
People arriving in Havana for the first time may find the experience traumatic and expectations swiftly take a dive. The much touted atmosphere of grandeur, charm and decadence in reality translates into decay, dirt and shabbiness for visitor and resident alike. Buildings which must have been visions of opulence and grandeur in the thirties and forties now threaten to crumble and collapse upon their unfortunate occupants (something which in fact happens with sad regularity). The overall impression of the centro area of the city is that of a bombed-out shell. Many people sit on street corners or mill around aimlessly and only the most insensitive visitors would fail to pick up the lack of dynamism and optimism in this place.
The widespread presence of the hustlers, or jineteros (translated literally as ‘riders’) promote a skewed relationship between Cubans and visitors, with the former as unscrupulous financial opportunists and the latter as prey. The men will try to sell you things and take you places for a hefty fee, and the prostitutes who inhabit the discos and street corners seek to ensnare the foreign men with well-practiced routines.
Public transport is packed, stifling and incredibly outdated in design, yet there is no option for Cubans going about their everyday business. Taxis are prohibitively expensive and wages low, even for such venerable professions as doctors and lawyers. Motorways in the interior are largely devoid of cars and train networks have gone decades without refurbishment. The infrastructure and transport system of this country, much like the nominal leaders, seem a relic of the past, antiquated and obsolete and struggling to cope with the demands placed upon them.
Fidel for his part has never shied away from the social difficulties of his ideological social revolution. He readily admits in his radio addresses and speeches that times are hard and people must be strong. Often he refers to the sacrifices made by Jose Marti and the tyranny of the United States from which Cuba has remained free. In mitigation for hardship he offers citizens a Cuba with free healthcare, universal education and comparatively high levels of literacy, when studied against other Latin American or ‘third world‘ countries.
On the everyday level, each barrio (neighbourhood) has a Comite de la Defensa de la Revolucion (Committee for the Defence of the Revolution) in which citizens’ participation is strongly encouraged. All community affairs come under this political umbrella with the onus on the individual to work on local issues emphasizing unity and social cohesion. But what is trumpeted as grassroots revolutionary activism and the platform for citizens’ political involvement in reality equates to Big Brother. Should people fail to take active and zealous part in these ‘committees’, suspicion can be aroused and life can become much harder in terms of jobs and standing in the community.
Few Cubans will openly admit to it, but boredom and frustration can be felt in this place, particularly among the younger people. Citizens are very restricted in where they can go and need official permission to travel to other provinces if their job does not require it. This factor, coupled with the tourism apartheid in operation, means that those trying to meet outsiders or even just people from other areas of the country can find it difficult. In the face of this system of repression the tendency is to be lazy, and many Cubans in Havana and elsewhere can be seen simply idling day and night, seemingly out of work or unwilling to work.
Education of course is provided by the state and so the visitor comes across many university-trained engineers, architects and doctors. But with movement frozen, wages pitiful and a stifled economy, peoples’ aspirations have been choked of oxygen. Thus a highly trained workforce often forego the practicing of their professions in favour of hustling tourists or working hotels where dollars may be made.
Cuba asks stern questions of the traveller. What price ideology when set against basic standards of infrastructure, economic freedom and personal aspiration? What price freedom from tyranny when freedom means community informers and lack of basic goods? The stagnation and restriction in evidence leads to inevitable meditation upon the suitability of the system, and how well its leadership is serving its people. For the people of Cuba are its greatest resource, strong-willed, good humoured and hard working by nature. Cuba is more than merely a place for morbid tourist fascination, it is a place with tremendous yet latent national potential. At the time of Fidel’s passing we may feel admiration for the ideological stand to which he has devoted his life. But at the same time we must hope the people of Cuba can seize their opportunity and adapt their nation to a more open and forward looking model.
