Come morning in Cuba, you don’t know if you’ll have electricity. Or water. Or friends – they’re leaving in droves. You may not even have access to your hard-earned (or ill-gotten) funds.
The outpost of Banco Metropolitano in my neighborhood is a repurposed shipping container. It has two broken ATMs and no money for the teller to disburse. A famous artist who lives nearby had to come to the rescue, depositing 70,000 pesos in a unique-to-me public/private bailout which warms the heart (but troubles the mind). Naturally, I opt to bank at a proper branch, where at least one ATM should work and there’s actual cash. But nothing is assured in today’s Cuba; when I arrive, the whole area is in a blackout. No banking today.
I return the following day. There is electricity and a longer line than usual as a result. People exiting the bank have to elbow through the crowd waiting to gain access. The sun blazes. There is nowhere to sit. We are used to it. We have no choice.
For many reasons, standing in a Cuban line is bad for your mental health. The generalized national lament about ‘la cosa’ – everything from blackouts and mountains of festering garbage, to dismal public transport, inflation, and more. Even when you withstand an hours-long line and the sad stories of those in it, there’s no guarantee you’ll be served, met, or able to conduct the business you came for. The lights could snap off, the bread could run out, the one person in the office might be picking up their child or have a doctor’s appointment. Maybe they’re taking a leisurely lunch. Any manner of things could happen that prevent the line from moving.
When this is your day-to-day, you have to be strong, yet flexible, resilient while remaining human, and take concrete steps to keep yourself sane. Happiness is a luxury reserved for other contexts. This is survival. And some people aren’t making it. Loneliness. Helplessness. Hunger. Fatigue and frustration. Friends whisper to me about suicide. Therapists are in high demand and short supply. Yesterday, a doctor friend told me she was ‘in critical condition, but stable,’ which is an accurate diagnosis for the country as a whole right now.
Cuba has been in acute, more-than-usual crisis for the past several years. We’ve all been sick without medication and lost friends to emigration. We struggle to get where we’re going and pay out the nose for necessities. But I reject the ad nauseum crisis dialogue and beeline elsewhere when someone starts in with it. I try to remain calm on every line. I breathe deep with each new bureaucratic odyssey and expect the least, hoping I will be pleasantly surprised. I realize lowering expectations is succumbing, a soft surrender. Still, I decline to participate in the national lament. Sometimes I fail.
But not today. I approach the line with a buenos días and a smile, taking the ‘último’ from a middle-aged woman and giving it to a hunched 92-year-old with cloudy eyes who ambles up next. A fellow arrives, asks for the last person in line, and inquires how fast it’s moving.
“It isn’t, but we’re hopeful,” I say.
“YES!” says the woman in front of me. “This is the corner of hope. We will get in!”
Within moments, the door opens and five people are granted passage. We smile and back clap. Score one for the hopeful crew.
_____
Ostensibly, this post is about hope in Cuba, autumn 2024. I’m on the lookout, my antenna swiveling towards those good people, doing charitable acts guided by ethics, not greed or individualism. The young man who helps a little old lady configure her phone while they wait for the bus. The single mother who rescues dogs abandoned by their owners when they split for El Norte. The neighbor who plants trees instead of cutting down yours under the cloak of night (true story, like everything I write here). Local Development Projects that put people before profit like Bacoretto and Armonía. I’m collecting these stories so that the world knows that todavia queda gente buena in Cuba. Here, there are still good people. If anyone tells you different, send them this link.
For reasons too complex (and boring) to go into here, I found myself in the Comunales office last week. Comunales is a strange administrative division charged with garbage collection, keeping green areas tidy and other mortal matters like cremation and freezer rental for cadavers. I was there about garbage: how and when we dispose of it and our right as a Local Development Project to do so. Even though garbage collection is largely theoretical these days (the bulldozer and convict brigade shoveling the rubbish into an open truck haven’t been by in a while; there is rotting garbage half a block long), community projects like ours have to pay to use the dumpsters.
I arrived with a smile and my ‘hopefully I can achieve something today’ attitude. Every person in that dim and doleful office where they earn in a month what a coffee and donut cost at Starbucks, was incredibly kind, friendly, and professional. As I sat with the garbage specialist, she multi-tasked in a way that is shocking for a Cuban bureaucrat, taking calls from her daughter (Supermarket 23 was at their door with a delivery), fielding questions from colleagues about garbage paperwork, and deftly sifting through contracts old, new, and out-of-date on her dented metal desk. We were laughing at one of her jokes when a man entered, holding aloft the keys to my e-bike.
“Are these yours? They were in the street beside your moto.”
“Oh, my god. Yes!” I hadn’t even noticed I’d dropped them.
“Anyone could have taken it.”
We were stunned. He was right. Anyone could have taken it. HE could have taken it. If he hadn’t done the right thing and hunted me down behind the hallway of closed doors, anyone else WOULD have taken it…todavía queda gente buena.
_____
The chance to steal an e-bike and he didn’t?! I shared this unbelievable story with Alfredo which prompted him to share his own: cruising in a collective taxi recently between Vedado and Centro Habana, the four other passengers disembarked one by one between the University and Ameijeiras. Barreling down San Lazaro, it was just Alfredo and the driver when a young man waved down the hulking car. Accompanied by three foreign women, the tout offered the driver $5 USD to go the dozen blocks to the Capitolio. The driver nodded ascent and motioned for them to get in the back.
“Five dollars for the entire car. Without other passengers,” he said, looking at Alfredo.
My friend sighed, preparing to get out.
“Keep your five dollars. He was my fare first,” the driver said before speeding off. He wouldn’t even take the 300 extra pesos Alfredo offered him. Todavía queda gente buena.
People around me are clamoring for these human stories. We crave an uplifting, a pause from the crisis lament in which we wallow. When friends hear I’m writing this post, they offer their own tales. Dr Laura tells of taxi drivers who refuse to charge her on her morning commute and José was able to recover his wallet, left on an incoming American flight and found by aircraft cleaning crew. Drivers have saved Dr Laura thousands of pesos and the money in José’s wallet was more than a year’s salary for one of those cleaning people.
Aldito offers another gente buena story to the collection: A neighbor came to his door to change US dollars for Cuban pesos. Sounds straightforward but in reality, involves rucksacks of bills, big numbers, and some risk. A calculator is always involved and a bill counter as well, but only when there’s electricity. The neighbor is selling $50 USD, for which he’ll receive 16,000 pesos. But Aldito had been conducting business all morning and his brain was a bit frazzled. He had $100 USD/32,000 pesos stuck in his head and this is what he gave the neighbor, who suffers from bad eyesight and perhaps a touch of dementia. They sealed the deal with a handshake.
Fast forward a few hours and Aldito realizes his mistake. He has no way of contacting the neighbor and though he’s from the barrio, Aldito doesn’t know where he lives. Swear words are uttered and self-loathing gallops headlong into the evening. Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door.
“I’m not good with money or numbers, but as I was paying me bills, I realized I had a lot left over. You must have given me more. I think you made a mistake.” He handed a stack of bills to Aldito totaling 15,650 pesos. Todavía queda gente buena.
Lend a hand. Give a lift. Slow down. Cede way. Walk in your neighbors’ shoes. Be mindful. Join us in making each day somehow better.
¡Gente buena! Do you know some or a good story? Please share!
Here is Havana 
Conner ! Muy bueno to hear from You again .. & .. Muy triste to hear of a Cuba still staggering under adversity .. it’s been many years since my relationship with the barrios of Havana (20 years since my last visit) .. Cuba & specifically Havana is wormed deeply in my heart & psyche .. I greedily eat up any genuine reportage on Cuba & have missed your real & personal accounts .. the exhaustion & frustration Cubans face in their vida cotidiana is desperate & yet it seems that ya todavía queda gente buena ! .. Saludos y Abrazos desde España ♥️
Hola Sally and thanks for reading and commenting. Ive taken quite a long time off from the blog because a) we are trying to stay afloat which leaves little time for musing; b) things were/are really dark here and I didn’t want to dive into that morass; c) I’ve had to shelve the blog for paying work; and d) Ive tried to prioritize my mental and physical health.
You would not recognize Havana today. GIANT (I mean giant) RAM and Ford trucks, BMWs, children with iPhones, children not going to school for lack of shoes, massive emigration from the (mostly) eastern provinces causing overcrowding and threatening infrastructure collapse etc etc.
But also lots of innovation from new class of dreamers and thinkers and doers. I will try and focus on that and continue posting here as I can
Thank you for conveying honestly both realities of Cuba today.
If Harris is elected, we can hope for improvement in US policy, perhaps even substantial progress during Biden’s lame duck period.
Can we hope for equal policy improvement in Havana?
Our latest effort to focus attention with a new petition is here https://tinyurl.com/BidenHarrisCuba
Thanks so much for your comment and sharing this link. IVE SIGNED. Please sign, anyone reading this who is a registered US voter.
I’ll add another: What do regular Cubans on the streets of Havana think about Harris vs Trump? Some pure gold here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3cayW_uJS-E
I agree with what many say in this video say: they all bad on the issue of their southern neighbor(s). Waiting for lame duck period to maybe, maybe have progress, while people go hungry and get sick and die in part due to these violent sanctions? Shame on the USA. But hey, greatest democracy in the world, right?
As for Havana taking steps: I have my personal opinions about what I’d like to see here moving forward, but Im just a bystander. Wearing my policy analysis hat I say: USA has been moving the goal posts for what havana “should” do to have relaxation of sanctions/normalization for decades.. Im not a huge fan of quid pro quo in general and certainly not in this case
Im sure you remember John, that it used to be, not until there’s no Castro in power. Once that happened, Washington moved on to allowing private business. Once that happened, goal posts moved again so that now its a nebulous “human rights” ask from a very dubious/bad actor with no credibility to make such a demand. And while Im at it: who is the USA to demand anything of Cuba? Oh right, Cuba is a domestic issue. I forgot for a second! hahaha
What an inspiring article! I really wish I could live there and help, or live near Cuba to be able to visit and help as much as I could. Todavia queda gente buena! I love it ❤️. Please let me know if this is possible. I feel like I could do more from perhaps Mexico, as I am a Canadian and can’t afford USD. Let me know if I can possibly be useful in some way. Muchas Gracias. Hasta Luego ❤️
I’m so pleased to read another post of yours, especially this one. The US government, because of it’s obsession with ‘socialism’ does everything it can possibly do to undermine life in Cuba. But what they seemingly can’t do, is destroy the will of gente Beuna . Certainly it exists everywhere, but in Cuba you’re amazed when you know how hard it is for everyone.
As usual a superb piece of writing Conner.
Very moving in both good and bad ways.
I am amazed that you are back in Cuba but all the very best for you and yours.
Thanks John. Although I havent been writing the blog (need paying writing gigs, plus little motivation to add to la cosa and lament) Im here. As is Cuba Libro which, despite all the sui generis challenges, is stronger than ever. Now if the lights just stay on, no one else gets oropouche, and we can hang on to our team members for a few months before the pull to El Norte and elsewhere, we should be ok moving/lurching forward!
Anyone who is reading this and coming to Havana, please stop by Cuba Libro on Calle 24 & 19, vedado, ask for Alfredo and tell him that he is the man! He is also nursing a Kraft Mac n Cheese addiction if anyone wants to show their appreciation in a cheesy way. HAHAHA
I’m so pleased to see another post by you after what seems like a long break. (or maybe I’ve just missed them) The US has done everything it can do to make life miserable in Cuba, because of their obsession with ‘socialism.’ But even they can’t destroy the will of gente beuna and it’s even more amazing when you know how hard life is – for nearly everyone. Certainly gente beuna exist everywhere, but in Cuba, they exceed all expectations.
Hola de nuevo! Yes, a loooong break. Over a year. Not much time or motivation to write myself into a dark hole metaphysically and financially (this blog is por puro amor de arte – nevefr have I received a penny, nor a writing gig that I can think of, from these musings!). But Im already working on Part II of this post. Collecting more of these true tales. And yes, the USA imperialist addiction is looking silly isn’t it?
I hadn’t heard anything from you in so long! I used to get your every report. I met you in 2016 when my husband and I brought a suitcase of stuff to your bookshop and cafe. My husband’s last trip there as he died 6 months later. I’ve been back to Havana 3 times since then and I’m going again in December. This scenario sounds even more sad than when I was there last December. What can I bring this next time?
Hello again early adopter. A 2016 donation qualifies you as Old Skool Supporter!! You’ll probably be happy to know our donation programs are stronger than ever. We are so thankful to you and folks like you who are helping buoy our community.
Im sorry to hear about your husband. EPD (En Paz Descanse) but Im glad you continue to travel to Cuba.
We have a list of donations on our website http://www.cubalibrohavana.com.
Prioritized items: lice shampoo, multivitamins, antibiotics (hard for US folks, I know), folic acid, sunblock and insect repellant for babies, high protein foods (tuna, jerky, nuts, power bars, powdered milk), low dose aspirin (81mg), denture glue (not powdered kind). Hope to see you in December and thanks in advance
I sure appreciate your lists, thank you. Unsure yet that I’ll be able to get out to see you again on this trip. But hopefully on a future trip! I’ve made a dear friend in Habana Vieja. She is in several online groups that look for and help each other find things they need, mostly of a medical nature. Trouble is, she has been shy about letting me know just what’s needed most. She’s got a 15 year old son and lots of lovely friends so I just focus on this group. I wish you all the best and hope to see you again in the not too distant future!
Are you trying to make me cry! Well, that worked.
The people, the beautiful and good people are why I feel connected to Cuba. When I first visited that quirky little island, I quickly fell in love. But, I didn’t fall in love with a person; I fell in love with a people. Sure, there are some klinkers in the bottom of the popcorn kettle, some jokers in the pack but, basically, they are good and decent souls.
Visiting Cuba changed my life and it continues to do so, even as it breaks my heart.
Thank you for sharing what I think many of us feel about this wild and wacky place. And for pointing up the hard-to-swallow contradictory feelings — Im still waiting for the haters to give this post a read (they’re a little slower on the uptake; I have foaming-at-the-mouth exiles commenting for the first time on posts a decade old!! welcome to the party mis amigos. hahaha). They seem to have a hard time coming to terms with concomitant realities, just like some of the wacko leftists. Funny how extremists go full circle and meet up at the end. End of rant. Thanks for reading!
Are you able to receive Interac etransfers from Canada? I’d like to send a few $$ to help.
Stay hopeful,
Liz Holt
Greetings Elizabeth. Thanks so much for your generous offer. I don’t know much about e transfers, but my Canadian friends say Interac is only within Canada, not international?
Maintaining hope is a daily struggle…sometimes we win, sometimes we lose.
so pleased to find your email when I returned home.
Your ability to maintain is remarkable. Been spending
some time at Bay Pines Veterans hospital; and, can
feel empathy for your endeavors. Buena Suerte !!!
Thanks Earl for your kind words. It HAS been a while since I last wrote here. I hope you are feeling better after the VA. Take care
From the VA to Milton. He may visit you folks on his way here to Tampa. He’s a mean motor scooter and a bad go getter at 175 mph and a strong 911 mb. You have to go out someway someday, it might as well be in a hurricane, that is the biggest in a hundred years. Whoopee !!!
Buckle up and stay safe.
(sorry, my phone is being uncooperative so I’m replying in this thread instead of starting a new one)
I’ve been reading your blog from here in the US since maybe 2015 when I was still in high school, and I still check about once a month to see if there’s any new here. I was so glad to read this today! By the way, lots of people I know are accepting donations for blog posts/essays that are much less insightful and informative than the gem you have gifted the public here. I really don’t think perspectives on daily life in Havana/Cuba are being written about in English anywhere else, and if they are they’re certainly not as much of a joy to read as yours! I tell people about your blog all the time, especially when ignorance about Cuba comes up.
I don’t know the easiest way to set up a donation button for readers but I’d be happy to donate in support of your continued writing/in support of Cuba Libro/etc. I’m sure other readers feel similarly 🙂
Hola Daniel. thank you so much for struggling with your phone and sending this note. My mental health is better for it! 2015? that makes you OG here, for sure. Thanks for that too, and for recommending Here is Havana to others.
As a professional writer and journalist, Im great at content generation/creative and absolutely shitty at monetizing/business. I surprise even myself that Ive been able to make Cuba Libro fly (11 years!! And in this dystopian economy!!) but that’s mostly due to the team and ALFREDO CARMENATE who pick up my slack.
The other issue, which many people are VERY confused about are the US sanctions against Cuba. Did you know the US govt seized $5000 of legal donations to our 501c3 and shut our bank account? That you cant use PayPal, crowdfunding and donate buttons on Cuban websites because of US law? Yeah. Reality.
So in short: my crappy salesperson skills + US embargo = too much for me to handle. I can hardly write these days (and that is my strength!!)
This post made me cry, knowing the situation in Cuba. Thank you for this reframe.
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