Destination: Uncategorized

Two of the most striking buildings in Havana are the embassies of Russia and the USA. Immediately after Castro’s victory in 1960, there was hope of a friendly relationship between Cuba and the United States. But after a battle of wills over issues of Cuban independence, neither party blinked, and Cuba saw little choice but to jump into the USSR’s sphere of influence.

Soviet aid came with pressure to become more communist, and Cuba became both radicalized and addicted to Moscow’s support. When the USSR fell apart, Cuba was abandoned economically.

In the 1990s, with no help from Russia and the USA hell-bent on Cuba’s economic ruin, Cuba entered an era of extreme austerity called the “Special Period.” A lack of fuel made many forms of farming impossible. Locals survived mostly on basic produce — with almost no access to protein or sugar (some people resorted to eating cats). Today people recall how there was no traffic in the streets of Havana…just starving people walking like aimless skeletons down empty, unlit lanes.

While the Cuban people have little money, I sensed no angry edge to the poverty and felt safe on the streets. While Havana is as poor as other Latin American capitals, after dark I’d much rather be walking there than in Guatemala City, Managua, or San Salvador (where I felt very unsafe).

There was something strikingly proud and dignified about the Cuban people I met. They earn about $30 a month beyond all of their government entitlements (subsidized housing, utilities, food, education, and health care), and they seem to accept that. Communism has trained them to look to the state for handouts…and has demoralized any interest in working hard to get ahead. As I’ve noted, rather than compare their lot to workers in the USA, it seems fair to compare Cuba to other Central American countries where workers are just as poor (but in dangerous worlds without health care or education). The situation depressed me (as all of Latin America does in this regard), but it was clearly different. It was confusing and perplexing…and maddening.

Hugo Chávez is a hero to the Cuban people. The late leader of oil-rich Venezuela kept the Cuban economy afloat with cheap oil and financial aid. Cuba would return the favor as best it could with its most valuable resource: well-trained doctors and nurses. To this day, you see lots of billboards expressing gratitude for Venezuelan aid.

Photo: The Travelphile

Strolling along Havana’s harborfront promenade, the Malecón, you reach the new US Embassy (formerly known as the US Interests Section). It opened in 2015 with President Obama’s softening of relations. The finest (and seemingly most fortified) building in town flies the Stars and Stripes and faces a plaza of flagpoles. When I was there, of the dozens of poles, only one sported a flag: Cuba’s, with the same red, white, and blue…but just one big star. The symbolism is clear: Cuba stands alone. (Depending on your view, they’ve either opted out of the global rat race, or have been excluded by the American embargo.) It’s as if the two flags just don’t know what to do: Is this a showdown at the OK Corral? Or perhaps two awkward potential partners on a dance floor?

On the plaza facing the US embassy, the wall read Patria o Muerte (“Fatherland or Death”) and Venceremos (“We will overcome”). As in other Latin American countries, the shiny new embassy is designed to instill fear and respect among locals. (My local guide waited with our taxi four blocks away while I went up to chat with the embassy guard.)

Although it’s a huge city, Havana feels like a collection of neighborhoods — each with its own small-town character and vibrant market. And a delightful experience is to simply wander through a neighborhood farmers market. Taxis are so inexpensive, we’d just hire one and hand the driver a list of places we wanted to visit (gleaned from our guidebook and advice from our B&B hosts), then enjoy a stop-and-go morning.

(By the way, I’m just starting a two-week series of posts from Cuba. This promises to be a great adventure through a mysterious-to-most-Americans island that’s just now opening up to regular tourism. I hope to post twice a day for the next two weeks here on my blog and on Facebook. Please share this with any traveling friends interested in venturing to Cuba.)

Part of being a tourist in Cuba is sorting out the puzzle of its ideology and its struggling economy. With the country opening up to tourism, softening its controls on society, and preparing for the inevitable end of the Castro era, traveling here is filled with fun and curious insights.

Fidel Castro is beloved by many for winning Cuba’s independence from the dictatorship of Batista, and loathed by many for keeping the country out of the global economic and political mainstream. Visiting Americans who may be inclined to criticize Cuban policies compare the economy and civil liberties to their reality in the USA, and find it horrible. Others compare the economic reality of workers here to workers anywhere else in Latin America, and find it roughly the same (from a material wealth point of view) — and note Cuba’s comparative advantage in health care, education, stability, and safety. When it comes to crime, drugs, and gang-related violence, communist Cuba is far safer than capitalist Latin American countries. But this is not a democracy, and being a dissident here can land you in jail. While other countries have their economic elites in business, Cuba has its economic elites in high government posts.

In 1956, Fidel Castro and a few dozen fellow Cuban Revolutionaries motored a yacht from Mexico to Cuba intent on overthrowing the Batista dictatorship. (Batista was friendly with the big American corporations that dominated the Cuban economy. He also stripped Cuban people of many rights and arrested anyone who took a stand against him.) With a mix of heartless brutality, political brilliance, and liberty-or-death courage and idealism, Castro and his gang inspired Cubans to rise up and overthrow their government. And in 1960, Castro — now the leader of the island — found himself in Havana speaking to the masses who filled what was later renamed “Revolution Square.”

Photo: The Travelphile

The Museum of the Revolution tells that amazing story from a Cuban point of view. It shows off the good ship Granma, in which Fidel Castro and the original band of 82 Revolutionaries cruised from Mexico to gain a toehold on the island and eventually rally the people to overthrow their corrupt dictator, Batista. The museum also displays, with simple typed descriptions in old-school glass cases, the humble artifacts of that stirring Revolution.

Castro’s right-hand man was Che Guevara. While you see lots of monuments to Che and the revolutionary hero from a century earlier (José Martí), you rarely see Fidel Castro’s image on monuments. But he looms large in many Cuban hearts.

Che Guevara is the classic dashing Revolutionary, and a big seller from souvenir shops to tattoo parlors. While a charismatic leader, he was also a brutal killer. I resist the temptation to celebrate Che.

Photo: The Travelphile

In Cuba, you see very little advertising beyond simple store signs. But there are plenty of billboards with political messages. The propaganda I saw was not anti-Imperialism or anti-American (except for anti-embargo messages), but rather pro-Cuban Revolution and pro-Cuban dignity and independence. Many of them tied Castro and the Cuban Revolution to two newer world figures: the late Venezuelan strongman Hugo Chávez (Venezuela provides Cuba with critical economic support — desperately needed considering the US embargo and the fall of the USSR, which propped up the Cuban economy for so long) and Nelson Mandela (a fellow hero of the “non-aligned world” — developing nations that refused to formally align with the big powers during the Cold War).

A first stop for any sightseer in Havana is the fort. Peering across its rusty old cannon to see how a tiny and easily protected strait of water led to a calm and secure harbor, and hearing stories of how the Caribbean-European trading vessels would gather here before crossing the Atlantic in a safety-in-numbers convoy, I could understand how Havana was the mightiest port in the Caribbean 500 years ago.

Flying into Havana after dark, I was struck by how dimly lit the city was. Touching down, it was the darkest airstrip I’d ever landed on. For such a big and important city, the airport felt provincial — a hint at the economic struggles that plague this island just 90 miles south of Florida, with a population of 11 million that’s both shrinking and aging.

The Malecón, a five-mile-long embankment built a century ago to keep out waves, is an iconic feature of Havana. Tough as it feels, storms do overwhelm it, and the adjacent district endures regular floods. Between storms, the stark Malecón — with no landscaping and six lanes of traffic separating it from any buildings — is a beloved concrete promenade. It’s a popular place to go — to fish, hang out with a lover, strum your guitar, and make the scene. Every tourist should spend part of an evening strolling Havana’s waterfront strip.

Havana’s fort features barren rooms, a few humble and boring exhibits, and grand views of the strategic harbor — so easy to protect with a few cannons. A skinny stretch of water leads past a mighty fortress to the easy-to-defend harbor. Havana was the obvious spot for those Spanish conquistadors to establish a safe and thriving port to serve the needs of colonial trading ships. To sail to Europe safe from pirates, ships from throughout the Caribbean would gather here into a huge convoy for the twice-annual crossing of the Atlantic. Sipping the local Bucanero beer in a stone building constructed after pirates burned the original wooden town (back in the 16th century), I was reminded that Havana’s heritage is hard-fought and goes way, way back.

Havana, with about 2 million people, has a stubborn and neglected little skyline facing its Malecón promenade and the open sea.

As expected, Havana traffic was sparse, and many of the cars were American classics from the 1950s. Once Cuba and the USA became enemies back in 1960, the American embargo locked the country into a 1950s time warp. Before the Revolution, Havana was a playground of the rich and famous. A few vestiges of those Sinatra and Hemingway days survive — like the stately Hotel Nacional de Cuba.