Havana
The city of Havana fulfilled every one of my romantic expectations of Cuba and its capital city; the narrow streets with worn, painted facades supporting endless balconies that showcase laundry and often the owners themselves, leaning out onto the street watching the world go by; the sound of salsa, son or trova on every corner, in every bar and restaurant, strolling along tuning out of one song as you pass and tuning in as you approach the next, a momentary glimpse through a door or a front porch reveals a couple dancing salsa, or perhaps just a flash of a foot or an arm; tall, elegantly dressed Caribbean men smoking their cigars, ladies with their umbrellas, taking shade from the strong midday sun. These are images that will remain in my mind alongside those of the very visible poverty, the big queues in front of the ration shops, the pizza ovens in doorways of homes filled with some gooey dough topped with a sweet tomato sauce and cheese for 5 pesos (US$0.20c), the constant requests for anything at all that I might be able to give; clothes, a cigarette, a biro, a sweet, a drink, anything. The hissing of men trying to get my attention, either to offer a taxi, help in return for a tip, to offer themselves as a date, as a husband, etc. But Cuba has one of the best levels of education in Latin America - illiteracy was eliminated by Fidel -, the highest life expectancy and the lowest crime figures. These people are used to finding ingenious and inventive ways to make ends meet or to get what they want and will not hesitate to try out clever scams on unsuspecting tourists like myself.
On my first day in Havana I fell prey to a couple of jineteras - girls that try to cream you for whatever they can. They befriended me as we walked in the same direction for a while then suggested we take a look at a nearby bar, a famous haunt of Che Guevara, they told me. I made it crystal clear that I couldn't afford to buy any drinks in this touristy place (Cuba cannot be travelled anywhere near as cheaply as the rest of Latin America and was taking me to the limits of my budget). We agreed that I would take a quick picture and we'd leave, but while I took my pictures they ordered 3 mojitos that cost me the equivalent of US$12. I was frustrated, as they had taken advantage of me AND they were still after more, and all this when I had made it very clear that I don't have the money to pay for it. I left them after explaining that they would have benefited much more from a couple of dollars each than from a mojito consumed quickly with an awkward atmosphere. Now that I knew the kind of scams I was facing I was well prepared for the rest of my stay, and this actually was a reassuring feeling.
I was blessed with the ideal hostess in Havana and the timing couldn't have been any better, as these were my first days in Cuba. Maria is in her 60s, she's a true revolucionista, a Fidelist, not brainwashed, not without criticism, an intelligent lady that could weigh up the pros and cons. She laments the state of the nation with its poverty (caused by US embargos, collapse of the Soviet Union), the overpriced food and products, the concessions made by Fidel out of necessity that have compromised the ideology and caused the younger generations to seek materialism, capitalism. She understands that her liberties are limited, but argues that capitalist countries are also not completely free. She has visited relatives in the US and was shocked by the lack of freedom due to laws, laws governing your property, your children's education, your ability to smoke in public, etc.. She felt that the US churns out more propaganda about US history, foreign policy and about Cuba, etc. than Cuba does about its own history and about the US. Maria, like me, is a good talker, so I learnt a lot from her, I listened hard, I didn't debate much, I took it or I left it, but it was all valuable information about the country, its politics and public opinion. I met her ex-husband and her daughter, all professionals, all Fidelists. What they said made sense, was well argued, but was very biased. I may respect a lot of the communist values and a number of them may well be lived out successfully here in Cuba (for example there is no juxtaposition of excessive wealth and poverty, like in the rest of Latin America), but that does not change the fact that there is no free press, no elections, no internet access to the general public or in homes, no leaving the country unless for a legitimate and agreed purpose and with a limited stay.
So, my days were spent alone, walking around this huge town, wandering around Revolution memorials, strolling along the Malecon (8km seawall), sitting in parks talking to the locals, dancing salsa at matinee live shows, fighting off irritating or sometimes totally charming jineteros and jineteras, eating gooey street pizza or fried rice served in a cardboard box with a cardboard spoon cut-out, drinking the national Tu-cola. I loved it loads, loathed it just a little.
Here are the photos of Havana. Enjoy!
On my first day in Havana I fell prey to a couple of jineteras - girls that try to cream you for whatever they can. They befriended me as we walked in the same direction for a while then suggested we take a look at a nearby bar, a famous haunt of Che Guevara, they told me. I made it crystal clear that I couldn't afford to buy any drinks in this touristy place (Cuba cannot be travelled anywhere near as cheaply as the rest of Latin America and was taking me to the limits of my budget). We agreed that I would take a quick picture and we'd leave, but while I took my pictures they ordered 3 mojitos that cost me the equivalent of US$12. I was frustrated, as they had taken advantage of me AND they were still after more, and all this when I had made it very clear that I don't have the money to pay for it. I left them after explaining that they would have benefited much more from a couple of dollars each than from a mojito consumed quickly with an awkward atmosphere. Now that I knew the kind of scams I was facing I was well prepared for the rest of my stay, and this actually was a reassuring feeling.
I was blessed with the ideal hostess in Havana and the timing couldn't have been any better, as these were my first days in Cuba. Maria is in her 60s, she's a true revolucionista, a Fidelist, not brainwashed, not without criticism, an intelligent lady that could weigh up the pros and cons. She laments the state of the nation with its poverty (caused by US embargos, collapse of the Soviet Union), the overpriced food and products, the concessions made by Fidel out of necessity that have compromised the ideology and caused the younger generations to seek materialism, capitalism. She understands that her liberties are limited, but argues that capitalist countries are also not completely free. She has visited relatives in the US and was shocked by the lack of freedom due to laws, laws governing your property, your children's education, your ability to smoke in public, etc.. She felt that the US churns out more propaganda about US history, foreign policy and about Cuba, etc. than Cuba does about its own history and about the US. Maria, like me, is a good talker, so I learnt a lot from her, I listened hard, I didn't debate much, I took it or I left it, but it was all valuable information about the country, its politics and public opinion. I met her ex-husband and her daughter, all professionals, all Fidelists. What they said made sense, was well argued, but was very biased. I may respect a lot of the communist values and a number of them may well be lived out successfully here in Cuba (for example there is no juxtaposition of excessive wealth and poverty, like in the rest of Latin America), but that does not change the fact that there is no free press, no elections, no internet access to the general public or in homes, no leaving the country unless for a legitimate and agreed purpose and with a limited stay.
So, my days were spent alone, walking around this huge town, wandering around Revolution memorials, strolling along the Malecon (8km seawall), sitting in parks talking to the locals, dancing salsa at matinee live shows, fighting off irritating or sometimes totally charming jineteros and jineteras, eating gooey street pizza or fried rice served in a cardboard box with a cardboard spoon cut-out, drinking the national Tu-cola. I loved it loads, loathed it just a little.
Here are the photos of Havana. Enjoy!
posted by Louise Parmenter at 11:51 pm
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