COVID-19 & Cuba: The Good

Greetings readers. I hope you’re as well as you can be given the shit show that is Planet Earth, 2020.

In my first chronicle about the coronavirus in Cuba, I led off with a (necessarily short) paragraph about some of the positive aspects of the ‘new normal’ here in Havana, followed by an all out rant about the negative. This time, I’m flipping the script, leading off with what is chapping my ass these days, before launching into the rays of light I’m witnessing in these otherwise deep, dark times.

Physical distancing is still—and always will be—a challenge in Cuba. The factors are multiple and varied, from cultural and historical to practical and meteorological. Yesterday’s meat hunt is illustrative. For those out of the loop: pandemic food procurement is one of the biggest stressors and threats to physical and mental health here.

We were out the door by 6:30am, already late by today’s standards: only the earliest birds get any worms in these COVID-19 times. Lines at stores where meat (usually chopped in a tube or pressed in a can) might be available but not guaranteed, begin forming at 4am. Folks on the hustle camp out at stores likely to release some kind of protein—canned sardines, corned beef loaf, hot dogs or the insanely coveted chicken—to be the first in line…and sell their spot to later comers. Typically, several friends and family members do this as a group so they can sell their turns in line, plus make their own purchases. Many of these items end up on the ‘informal market’ at a 100%, 200% or even 300% markup. Today, a tube of Colgate toothpaste is between $10 and $12CUC (up from $5) and 36 eggs cost $7CUC (up from $3). When you can find them.

The same dynamic is at play at carnecerías (open-air butchers) all over Havana.

Yesterday, instead of braving the crapshoot that is the stores, we opted for the butcher’s. This is more about Toby than us: we’re happy eating vegetarian, he is not. And the tubed/canned meat wreaks havoc on his health (for those not in the know: kibble in Cuba is reserved for the 1% who can source and afford it; the rest of us have to cook for our pets). When we arrived at 6:45 and asked for el ultimo, the line looked manageable. This was an illusion: the young man in front of us had marked in line for himself and three cousins, the woman before him was holding place for four neighbors and when meat finally went on sale at 9:15am, the line magically trebled as people cut in, jockeyed for position and called in favors with the meat purveyors.

During our four-hour, successful odyssey (we got some pork chops for us and bones with bits of meat for Toby), some of us maintained physical distance, but many more did not. Securing your place in line while keeping the cutters at bay, arguing with those who tried, theorizing about what meat might be for sale and when, all conspired to violate the two-meter distancing rule. And then it started to rain. Cue bunches of people huddled under a narrow awning trying to stay dry. COVID-driven anxieties notwithstanding, this scenario kicked off all my deep-seeded food insecurities bred during a childhood where too many mouths to feed and too little money had us arguing over who had more ramen noodles in their bowl and cruising the refrigerator or pantry for food was strictly verboten…

Although I miss my family horribly and there are days when people improperly using masks (obligatory here since late March) or my husband crowding me in the kitchen engenders thoughts of violence, I feel very safe in Havana. And there are some very good things happening.

If you’ve stayed with this post for this long, THANK YOU! Here goes:

  • Air quality and noise pollution: While we don’t have jutía frolicking in front yards or manatees sidling up to the Malecón, the air quality has become noticeably better. A fraction of cars, trucks and buses plying the streets, reduced work hours, and telecommuting, all contribute to improved air quality. In Havana, a lot of heavy industry is located within residential neighborhoods: I lived my first six years here directly behind the cigarette factory at 100 & Boyeros and this was (and is) a toxic environment. Even a slight reduction in the work day at pollution-spewing factories like this one helps the environment. Noise pollution—from vehicles, loud-mouthed neighbors and passersby, construction, and speaker-toting reggaetoneros—has also diminished considerably. For me, this is an extraordinarily welcomed increase in quality of life.

 

  • Bicycle boom: Bicycles and cycling culture are more complicated than you might think due to stigma from the economic crash (AKA Special Period) when pedal power was transport of last resort. But make no mistake: there is a small, but strong and growing, cycling movement afoot which predates COVID-19. Nevertheless, since the pandemic and attendant health measures limiting public transportation, bikes are coming out of garages, being rescued from backyard weeds, and off walls—yes, some people use them as décor which is absurd and makes me vomit in my mouth a little every time I see this. But the resurgence in cycling is wonderful to witness. Anyone with a bike knows these two wheels are a ticket to freedom. You can get anywhere your two legs will take you, plus it’s great exercise! Private businesses, including Cuba Libro, which enjoys and supports a large cycling community, are putting in bike racks and lobbying for bike-friendlier cities; hopefully this COVID-19 experience will stimulate more government support for cycling in general (ie not just for tourists). On the downside, if you want to buy a bike in Havana these days, it will cost 30%-50% more than it did pre-pandemic.

 

  • Kitchen creativity: This global phenomenon is taken to new heights in Cuba where the only items you might have on hand are rice, an egg and some tomatoes (if you’re lucky!). To keep things interesting, I’ve had to master Cuban classics like red bean potaje and ropa vieja, plus find new ways to prepare eggplant, bok choy, cabbage, carrots and more. I have to give a huge shout out to the Cuba Libro family in this regard for two very specific reasons: 1) someone very generously donated Mark Bittman’s How to Cook Everything Vegetarian a while back. My mom and sister have long been Bittman fans, but I didn’t know what I was missing; his books are such fantastic tools and well-written to boot and 2) our regulars at the café are creating their own coffee drinks at home, leading us to launch our CUBA LIBRO EN DA HOUSE competition—enter to win by June 6.

 

  • Better veggies, more sustainability: There are some silver linings to the food nightmare we’re living. First, in my experience, the fruit and vegetable markets here in Havana have been pretty well stocked the past two and a half months. Although I have to head out early, walk a half an hour and stand on line once I arrive, I’m almost sure to find watermelon, pineapple or mango; carrots, eggplant, peppers and onions; yucca or plantains (sweet potato has become a rare commodity for reasons still not understood); sesame and sunflower seeds, guava paste and peanuts; and with a little luck, basil and parsley. You never know what you’ll find, but even in smaller markets tucked along the Playa/Marianao border, I’ve found gorgeous bell peppers and tomatoes of unusual size. Chatting up the veggie seller, he told me this is ‘tourist produce,’ grown specifically for hotels and resorts, but made available to the public since Cuba’s borders were closed at the end of March. I glanced at the small, sad limones, with the bumpy skin that means they have no juice. ‘Tourists don’t eat lemons,’ he said laughing.

 

  • Growing your own: Here, like elsewhere, Cubans have started planting on balconies, along the small patches of dirt between sidewalk and street, on windowsills and roofs. Even me, with my notorious brown thumb, has a made a go of it. My garlic and bell peppers died in typically spectacular fashion, but…the pineapple I planted is going strong! I don’t expect a harvest, but it makes for a nice ornamental. Thankfully, my very forward-thinking friends in Guanabo started a community garden last year and are now harvesting like mad. Every week or so they drop off (mask in place, physically distanced) overflowing bags of fresh organic produce to friends, family, neighbors and community centers. Yesterday they popped by with fennel, arugula, parsley and wait for it…broccoli!! All of this conspires to help us eat healthier—the plate of chicharrones I put away last night notwithstanding.

 

  • Diversifying suppliers: I see a lot of this going on in the USA (bravo!) as people realize that megaliths like Amazon, although efficient and cheap and sometimes a necessary evil, are making a fortune off of us and their workers, and pursuing inhumane labor practices while ringing the death knoll for smaller mom and pop places. Here, we have had to pivot on suppliers, not for social justice considerations but because store supplies have constricted so drastically. Suppliers have also had to pivot since there are no tourists and private restaurants, previously their bread and butter, can only do takeout or delivery. As a result, we just ordered 2 kilos of artisanal goat cheese—a kilo of basil goat cheese and another kilo of oregano/garlic/black pepper goat cheese. This will be shared among several families and we’ll have to wait two weeks for it to be delivered to our door, but still! I am doing a serious dance of joy (cheese is another nearly impossible item to find these days). While not cheap, there are few things in this life for which I will pay whatever it takes. Cheese is one of them. And presented with the choice between meat or cheese, I choose cheese. Every. Single. Time. Some people won’t understand, but if you know, you know.

 

  • Solid solidarity: The willingness to help others, extend a hand, share what’s on hand and pull together, is very much a Cuban trait and vividly on display right now—globally and locally. Despite or because of all the very serious problems with the food supply (compounded by the cruel and failed US embargo), sharing and bartering is deeply woven into the fabric of Cuban culture. Let’s say the store where you’re on line has oil. You don’t need oil, but you buy your two allotted bottles anyway, to share with neighbors, give to friends or trade for tubed meat with the stranger you met on the four-hour line you stood on to buy it. In the past two weeks alone, I’ve traded: rice for flour, coffee for chicken, even soy sauce for chocolate! I’ve gifted banana muffins, coconut-mango bread and toothpaste (Note to self: take mother-in-law’s country wisdom to heart: ‘there are times when you don’t even share your water with your oxen.’).
  • Then there’s the Henry Reeve Contingent, Cuba’s specialized medical team now fighting COVID-19 in two dozen countries. I love when internet dissenters flaunt their ignorance, flaming me about Henry Reeve. I lived with this team in their tent hospitals in post-quake Pakistan in 2005 (they year the Contingent was founded, in direct response to Hurricane Katrina) and again for a month in 2010 after the earthquake in Haiti. Covering their work in the field is one of the highlights of my career as a health journalist. Signatures are now being collected to nominate the Contingent for the Nobel Peace Prize.
  • Solidarity is also pulsing through Cuba’s younger generations who are participating in volunteer movements to care for the most vulnerable—particularly the elderly and disabled people who live alone and can’t navigate the store-food situation. This is their moment: they missed the triumph of the Revolution, the Literacy Campaign and the Special Period (for the most part, the worst part). What we’re facing with COVID-19 is terrifying, horrifying, but it’s also motivating young people to pitch in and help out in ways heretofore largely unknown. We will need this moving forward.

And last, but certainly not least:

  • Nooners, booty calls & other carnal activities: Here we talk a lot about sex and bodily functions. These are things that distinguish my birth culture from my adopted culture and Reason #69 why I groove to Cuba. It’s all natural! What’s to be ashamed of? So we’ve been talking quite a bit about coronavirus sex. Conclusion? Whether you’re in a new, long-term, open, multi-partner or casual relationship, everyone’s action has dropped off. Some single people I know have stopped screwing altogether. Meanwhile, other people I know are now pregnant. So it’s a mixed bag. And when you’re greeting your booty call with an elbow bump, you know the main act is going to be different (no kissing or oral, for starters). Front-to-back positions are surging in popularity and encouraged. Cuba Libro is distributing a lot of free condoms. Since we’re in this at-home-all-the-time loop, there has been a happy uptick in nooners and daytime sex in general, plus the opportunity for multiple sessions. Creativity is another bonus with toys, role playing, and moving things out of the bedroom for variety having their moment. This is when we have the energy to actually get it up; this isn’t all days by any stretch of the imagination. But the carnal act is more intentional now, and that’s another good thing.

 

I should wrap this up—my guy just sauntered by wearing something sexy—but the whole point is: some of these positive elements of COVID-19 won’t have staying power, some may linger and fade (a la NYC post-9-11), and a few might stay as we realize how important they are for our collective health and well-being. It really is up to us to recognize, embrace, and multiply the good. You in?

19 Comments

Filed under Americans in cuba, cuban cooking, Cuban customs, Cuban economy, Cuban idiosyncracies, environment, Expat life, health system, Living Abroad, Uncategorized

19 responses to “COVID-19 & Cuba: The Good

  1. Always enjoy your perspectives, Conner. Thanks for letting us into your world. 🙂

    • And what a world it is! Sometimes I wonder…thanks for reading. take care

    • Conner, thank you for being our lifeline of information about what is going on there now during Covid. To think we were there with you in mid February just before the gates started closing around the world. Very lucky to have been there and we are counting the days (weeks, months…..) until we can come again bring another small group. Seeing you is always a highlight. Myo can only eat goat cheese, so we are with you on that. Big hugs. Benjamin & Myo

      • Hola Benjamin & Myo and all the folks at Small Footprint. Unbelievable that February visit. You were one of our last groups to come by before the pandemic reached our shores. So much has happened since then, it’s staggering.

        We are still plugging along. there are good days and not so good and we are all just doing the best we can. No es fail as we say!

        Im sure you’ve seen that Cuba has announced its reopening plan. A lot to be hopeful about but havana is still problematic. Will be quite a while before we can receive visitors, I fear.

        Transformation of the cafe is going full-speed ahead while we adjust to the new health regulations. You won’t recognize it when you see it!!

        Take good care and VIVA QUESO DE CABRA!!!

  2. Sylvia

    Thanks for the update. 🙂

  3. Rae

    Thanks for your report. Glad to hear that (as usual) Cuban resourcefulness and humor are helping the situation. I visited in 2014, 2015, and 1970. Got my hopes hope with Obama. And now, I hate to think of the challenges (nice word) that brought on not only by the pandemic, but also by our unspeakable current “president.”

  4. Hi hi Thx for catching us up on life on the island. Here in oakland folks werefairly conscientious about distancing, but that’s fading quickly. Products are much more readily available in this land without embargoes, and yet people still whine. Sending U good good vibes. Give my best to the posse. Kai

    >

    • thanks Kai! Health authorities here are taking this damn seriously and if you arent wearing a mask, you get a ticket. Distancing is harder but beaches are closed, parks are empty, malecon is empty. Restaurants and bars are closed (only former can offer take out or delivery). But its getting hot, people are getting antsy, and things are increasingly tense on lines. (Un)fortunately Cubans are past masters at putting up with very little. We are about to start brushing with baking soda for lack of toothpaste but Id rather have that than what I see happening up north with armed vigilantes and non-mask wearers going berserk. It is going to be a very “interesting” summer. HOW ARE YOU? Take good care

  5. Alexandra D'Italia

    Thank you! I love the insights into class there and, still, comparing it to class issues in the States…

    Write. More.

    • Oh the class issues. I could write another entire post on this. maybe I will. Could be an interesting compare and contrast. Thanks so much for reading amiga. You know you’re writing inspires ME!!

  6. Didipuss

    Holy shit. K is growing brocolli in Cuba? I am verklempt. But there is nothing she can’t do as we know……………

    • Oh dear. The cat is out of the bag!! Also growing peaches and cherries and arugula and all kinds of yummy stuff. Need more great people like this around! Take care

  7. Thank you Connor. Passing post along to the many here working to end the blockade. We have a resolution making its way to the Chicago City council and reports like this are helpful as we tell the story. Missed you last few times we’ve been there. Hopefully we’ll catch up in person one of these days – stay safe
    We’ve been streaming cultural programming from around the world on HotHouseGlobal on Twitch.tv and working on doing something live from Cuba
    Breaking isolation and the new tendency to interrupt solidarity
    Hope you’ll be able to watch

    • These are great initiatives Marguerite. Lets hope 2021 sees some traction on lifting the embargo. I still haven’t tried Twitch but I have other musician friends (not in Cuba) using it. We’ve had trouble with zoom (embargo-related) and of course, internet is expensive here.

      I really hope you can live stream some gigs from Cuba. That would be awesome! Let me know if you schedule something and I will circulate to my networks. Take care and be healthy!

  8. Please spill the beans on the cheese, Connor!… where did you order it and how!? From another gringa (Americana) living in Havana! I don’t know what queso blanco is – besides squeaky and rubbery (even though I waited 5 hours in a cola for it), but the best recipe I’ve come up with to make it truly tasty (because it is basically edible in a cardboard is edible sense), is a distant cousin to deep fried Wisconsin cheese curd. Of course, that negatively affected my stash of the other basic thing: flour! And I lost a couple of eggs to boot.

    I’ll be happy to wait for three weeks just to believe something cheeselike is in my future!

    Cheers. Ya tú sabes. La lucha.

    • Hi there. You are very fortunate to have queso blanco!! Although they were selling cream cheese at La Casita 16 on Friday. We got there way late (after 3 hours on line for coffee at 7ma y 20) and couldn’t get any. However, pregoneros and black market sales of cheese are happening also (the last block I got of queso blanco – way over priced but cheese is cheese! was from a pregonera).

      I still haven’t received even a whisper of the cheese I ordered 2 weeks ago. Until it actually happens, I prefer not to pass on the info. My cred lies with supplying good, accurate info. I will keep you posted!

      PS – I should write a whole post about cheese. I have some funny stories pre and post COVID. Thanks for reading!

    • Hi there. Please send me your email address/WhatsApp via the link on the menu to the right of the blog’s main page or to cubalibrohavana@gmail.com

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