06/07/15
Cuba: Fills Your Heart and Breaks Your Heart
Karen stands by Cuban taxi
President Obama recently announced that diplomatic relations are being re-established between USA and Cuba. Before you pack your salsa shoes, here are a few impressions from my recent eight-day visit to Cuba.
When people heard I was going to Cuba, most thought Cuba was now wide open, reborn, refurbished and ready for an American tourist invasion. They were surprised that the only way to legally visit Cuba as an American is with a people-to-people licensed tour. Americans can’t apply for a Cuban visa. Americans can’t fly directly to Cuba on an American airline. A charter flight has to be arranged by the tour company. Americans can’t use their credit cards in Cuba. There is little internet availability. There is very little toilet paper. What toilet paper there is cannot be flushed.
For those who like entitlements, Cubans don’t pay rent. Medical care is covered. I guess you can overlook that there is a dearth of supplies. If you need an x-ray, be prepared to wait for hours while the medical team rounds up film. Education is free including college. Literacy is over 99%.
Cubans exchange ration coupons for subsidized staples such as rice, beans, powdered milk and sugar. Salaries are about $25 a month. You read that right. Castro has given doctors a raise to $75 a month. The average pay for a US internist is more than $150,000 a year. That pays for a lot of beans and rice. Cuban parents plead with their children to go into tourism instead of medicine, engineering or law.
While CNN, BBC and other English-speaking television channels are available in hotels, Cuban residents don’t get these channels in their homes. They only get state owned and run channels.
Go now!
Cuba has a long way to go to fulfill the expectations of the typical American traveler. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go to Cuba. Go. Go now. Cubans love Americans. Cubans are hopeful. They are survivors. They are creative. The art, the music, the dance, the food, the people, the architecture, the vegetation, the beaches, the intelligence, the humor, and the smiles…I could go on and on. I’m so glad I went now. My eyes were opened as was my heart. I want to return in five years to see the progress. Entrepreneurism is on the rise. A peanut vendor can own his own pushcart. The government gave up regulating his white paper cones filled with nuts.
We drove by what looked like bombed out buildings and saw single bulbs lighting the way of the people who live there. Havana is under reconstruction. The buildings look like the sherbet section at Baskin-Robbins. Pink, green, yellow, lime and lavender. The museum of modern art is extensive. Our guide illuminated the Cuban struggle and evolution with his commentary. Our visits to artist’s homes gave us insight on what it’s like to be an artist in Cuba. For years they couldn’t get supplies, so they stored ideas in the heads. When brushes, paper and paint became more available, a creative tsunami washed over the island.
I struggled to get my mind around how Cubans live and how they are governed. The museum of the revolution, which is housed in Batista’s old palace, is a treasure trove of propaganda. When I asked a fellow tour mate if the museum was pro-Fidel, he responded, “Ya think?”
Cuba is clean. There are no beggars. There are no homeless. The old cars are cool and fun to ride in. The ocean is beautiful. The beaches are spectacular. The children are adorable. The ice cream is delicious. The Cuban spirit is palpable. The culture and history are fascinating and rich. I loved it. I get teary just thinking about it. Go now. But, as our Cuban born tour director told us, “Wear your flexibility hat.”
Cuba filled my heart. Cuba broke my heart. I miss it
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