Cuba 2017

Cuba

Introduction

My rambling jottings from my 4 weeks in Cuba. A trip which turned out to be substantially different to the one  envisaged when I left home. A country substantially different in reality to the image I had in mind. Fascinating and frustrating in equal measure, this was not the month I had planned, although it was certainly an experience.

The arrival

1. Havana

I arrive exhausted after a 10 hour flight with no entertainment (thank god for podcasts). Two hour wait for bags to be delivered as staff were on a 'break'. Welcome to Havana. My first inkling that all would not be as glorious as the tourist posters suggest.

My taxi driver gives me a tour of the darkened city accompanied by impassioned rhetoric. Honesty, I am to find,  is a true genuine Cuban trait. Patriotism, I am to find, is sadly no longer common.

My first 'casa particular' (homestay) and my only pre booked item. Genuine lovely couple, Hilda and Alejandro, whose spotless apartment. alas, adjoins a massive hotel construction site. 

Welcome to Cuba, where the status quo is widespread destruction and construction. Wide ranging architectural glories disappearing into the dust, under the hammers of ever hopeful entrepreneurs.  The symbolic gleaming classic cars touting for tourists in Parque Central are iconography for western eyes, not everyday fare.

Over the next few days I wander this bizarre, chaotic city.

The most striking contrast to home is not the weather (35 degrees here) or the filthy, polluted, streets, but the empty shops and markets.

It is not just the lack of Americanized goods and services,  the Macdonalds and Starbucks which have crept into most major cities across the world, but the stark lack of anything much at all. 

Shops full of empty shelves. Or rows and rows of the same item. For reasons I never did fathom, jars of mayonnaise being the most common, hence no doubt the popularity of mayonnaise in Cuban diets. Mayonnaise sandwich anyone?  Cubans, I realize, thrive of adaptation. 

This first week I endeavor to master the two currency system. Foreigners must (should) use CUC , the convertible peso, commonly known as the tourist dollar. Locals trade in 'money nationale', or CUP.  The 25 CUP to 1 CUC deal is a technicality purely for exchange purposes. After that, its simply two currencies. There is very little bridge between the two apart from cafes in tourist areas which also serve locals. Mostly there are two different markets, two different goods and services, and locals pay less, much much less, than tourists. 

By dint of stalking people in the street I discover how to barter in CUP, how to buy street pizza for less than 50p (as opposed to £7-10 in a restaurant), how to enter the co operative markets and bargain for bananas, breads, cakes and ice cream, my diet staples. I have two purses (the notes are very similar) and throughout my stay in Cuba I use mainly the money nationale for everything apart from transport and lodging, which are rigidly segregated and I cannot blag my way as a local.

It saves  me a fortune as this is an incredibly expensive destination now, the exchange rate is dire.

Also in Havana I come to terms with the fact that it is it is impossible to find coffee ( huts serve tiny, wee cups of
 very strong, pre sugared expresso for 1 CUP ,so I drink several at a time. I yet again am grateful for my beloved  travel kettle, worth every inch of space in my rucksack.

My host Hilda has good English and between us we plan my route around the island. I hunt down the bus station and emerge triumphant hours later with a clutch of tickets. 

Hilda phones her friends to pre arrange my casas. In theory, all is good.  In practice I am to learn the hard way the casa mafia have their own system and transport here is erratic but at this time I am happy and optimistic. 

Five days after leaving England I am ready to move on, I have adjusted to the heat, spent many hours wandering the crazy, dusty, chaotic streets, peering at the eclectic architecture, ambling the malecon (sea wall) listening to music, salsa, jazz, rumba, drifting from cafes and bars , eating street food, and dodging the ubiquitous touts keen to persuade me to travel in their ridiculously overpriced classic cars or visit an overpriced restaurant. 

Ambivalent emotions. Havana is not the city I expected. The two currency system engenders a sense of injustice which lurks throughout my stay, despite the knowledge that I am rich by Cuban standards.  I sense, accurately, a lack of natural wonders and wildlife.The abundant animals are functional ones, the horses which are the main form of transport, the cows, pigs and chickens for sustenance. Stray dogs and cats are everywhere, a pitiful sight 

There is a buzz here, amidst the seething mass of humanity packing the crowded streets of dusty Havana, there is a pulsing sense of a country on the cusp of change.  Patriotic slogans adorn every street corner, but the word on the street is of moving forward not looking back. Graffiti hails the heroes of the revolution but the Government are openly criticized as corrupt, blamed for the dire economic state of Cuba today.

The oil price has quadrupled over the last year as Cuba's long running deal with Venezuela collapses, sugar crops, formerly a major export, now fail after years of neglect, and the much hyped tourism industry is clearly failing too, the recent cholera outbreak, food and energy shortages and extortionate rates, literally twice as much as nearby Mexico, have led many holiday companies to stop listing Cuba.

Hilda has been a great host, I shall miss my little room, the safety net in the middle of hectic Havana. She has helped me understand, as much as any outsider can, how to function here alone, in a country where solo travelers are unusual, especially women.  

Until recently the only way to see Cuba was by package deal, lone backpackers, especially women,  are unusual . Its going to  be an interesting trip!

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