Category Archives: dream destinations

Smell the Skin Cancer: An All-Inclusive Experience

Years have passed since I’ve been to a Cuban all-inclusive resort. As you may have guessed, resorts are not my thing.

Friends back “home” are incredulous when I regale them with tales of Varadero (AKA Cuban Cancún) or the cayos – small islands off the coast made accessible by environmentally-disastrous causeways built to bring the tourist hordes. With some 20 Lonely Planet guidebooks under my belt, treks into jungles where no solo woman before me dare tread, intrepid back-country camping and off-the-grid surviving, their first questions, inevitably, are: you?! At a resort? Why? You don’t drink, the beach bores you and the sun wreaks havoc on your Irish complexion – do you really need more freckles?! What’s the draw?

I understand their confusion. They know me, but they don’t know Cuba, these well-meaning friends. They do not know August with no air conditioning or eating some kind of pork product daily – or more often still. They’ve never been jarred awake at 6 every morning by the pop and buzz and blare of recorded trumpets followed by live young communists screeching principles. They know not of living with no telephone and only four channels (now five – woohoo!) of state TV, or cohabitating with termites to the point of total closet/bed/living room furniture collapse. Intrusive neighbors, migraine-inducing regguetón. Blackouts. Noxious, obligatory fumigations. The sprint for a guagua too full to stop for more passengers or lugging a propane tank, bicycle or sack of yuca up five flights of stairs. They know none of this. But I do. Intimately. Maddeningly. Ad nauseam.

But rather than describe the attraction of an all-inclusive in similar pitying detail, I’ll boil the attraction, for me, down to three things: cheese, hot showers, and ESPN. So when a friend (who shall remain nameless) suggested we spend a weekend at an all-inclusive, I jumped.

Here are my impressions of the Cuban todo incluido experience, circa Christmas 2015:

– Cuban tourism authorities are completely clueless that non-Christian (or non-Christmas-celebrating) visitors travel at this time of year. The resort where I stayed was festooned with every nöel-themed cliché you can imagine, from the plastic tree with gaudy metallic balls to faux snow and giant Merry Christmas banners. The quartet even played carols each night at the buffet. I was embarrassed for the Cubans (how fast they appropriate some of the worst of US consumerist culture!), while cringing for the Sikhs, Jews, Muslims and others who probably thought coming to Cuba would spare them this onslaught. Think again: it’s only going to get worse.

– I dub those tourists who only know Cuba through the resort lens the “masses of asses.” And they’ve earned the moniker for the shiterature they’re reading on vacation. Granted, about 20% were reading on digital devices – but even if every single one of them was diving into Dickens or Dawkins, that leaves 80% who are reading complete crap. The 50-tome library dominated by Danielle Steele, Ken Follet and other straight-to-paperback scribes. The poolside sunbathers with their Barbara Taylor Bradford. The guy smoking a stogie in the garden engrossed by Clive Cussler. I get that they’re on vacation. They want something light. But since when does light=formulaic and mindless? Ever since light became lite, I guess. So I dub this holiday reading by the masses of asses: (Lite)rature and suggest they check out Bill Bryson, Pico Iyer or Junot Díaz next vacay.

– Man titties: pink and hairy, glistening with sunblock and sweat. Overall impression? Gross.

– This particular resort was fairly, refreshingly light on jineteros/as and their janes/johns, but this doesn’t seem to be the case everywhere, if these experiences relayed by Here is Havana readers are indicative. Nevertheless, Cubans are (almost) always on the prowl. To wit: a nahwey from Centro Habana tried to pick me up when I entered the water near where he and his friend were lying on the beach. He took it as a sign. Not an illogical assumption, but incorrect: I just had to pee.

– One question which kept occurring to me as I surveyed my surroundings was: when did Deadheads quit tour and start designing resort wear? (Probably once Touch of Grey was released). Psychedelic and sexy but supremely comfortable – stealing into hotel rooms to rob wardrobe never crossed my mind before this trip.

– Streams of people made their way to the beach each dusk to watch the sunset. I’m happy for them. Happy they’re doing it. Everyone should be as fortunate as me – to have seen so many Cuban sunsets: from valley to sea to summit, coast-to-coast. But never before from a boat, which is odd indeed. Especially on an island. Especially for an ocean-faring waif like myself. It puts the ‘no boat’ rule and resource scarcity into sharp, stark perspective. I’ve lived here for 14 years and have never seen a sunset from Cuban waters. WTF?! [note to self: must rectify].

– Then there’s what I call the Tourist Tabula Rasa. Most folks in resorts haven’t a fucking clue wat Cuba is, was, or where it’s headed. Granted, none of us really has a grasp on the last, but the all-inclusive tourist bubble and how it dovetails (or doesn’t) with the Cuban reality is a dangerous thing. And scary. I imagine the guy with bigger boobs than me and his wife brandishing the schmaltzy zirconia necklace back home at a cocktail party: “Cuba? There’s awesome cheese and great hot water showers. Plus, there’s satellite – I thought it was going to be just government TV!”

They’re wrong, of course, but for me, at least for this weekend, they’re right: the cheese – blue, Manchego, Jarlsberg – was sublime. I stuffed myself full of it, took a long, hot shower and kicked back on the bed to watch the B James/S Curry Cavaliers/Warriors showdown. Conner Heaven.

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Filed under Americans in cuba, cuban beaches, Cuban customs, dream destinations, Expat life, Living Abroad, Uncategorized

Want to Help Cuba? Travel Responsibly

I’ve got my knickers in a twist and if you know me, you know how ugly I can get when my ass is chapped.

Today’s topic? Ethical, responsible, and sustainable travel to Cuba.

For those who don’t know me (let alone my knickers), a bit of background: I’ve written some 20 or so guidebooks – almost entirely to Latin America and Hawai’i. That is, contexts where vulnerable communities and environments depend on critical tourist dollars. And it’s not always pretty. Importantly, I’ve also borne witness to the continuum of change in Cuba, from my first month-long volunteer stint in 1993 to right now, after nearly 14 years in residence. So I know intimately the ‘bueno, malo y regular’ that tourism can heap upon a place. I also know painfully well the challenges facing Cuba as it navigates a tumultuous domestic reform process, while facing the oncoming tourist ‘tsunami’.

When I launched Cuba Libro in 2013, I designed it as an ethically- and socially-responsible business – relevant and responsive to local communities’ needs, which would also serve as a cool, cultural space for visitors to dig below the surface of this increasingly complex society. I also wanted it to shine as an example of how the private sector can (and must if there’s any hope for the Cuba we know and love) support and strengthen the public sector.

I recently participated in a Temas panel and debate dedicated to sustainable and responsible tourism. If you’re unfamiliar with Temas, it is the intellectual publication of reference here and its Director, Rafael Hernández – regularly published and quoted in the western press – can often be found on speaking tours abroad. In short, Temas is a heavyweight when it comes to critical debate in Cuba.

So despite feeling like shit with what turned out to be the onset of dengue, I made my way with some 50 colleagues to the lovely Parque La Güira in Pinar del Río to learn about what’s happening around sustainable tourism in Cuba.

I should have stayed home. While the panelists were informed, experienced, eloquent, and educated, there was a general pall over the proceedings. Despite a formal invitation, no one from the Ministry of Tourism showed up. Nor were there any representatives from the Ministries of Health or the Environment. So much for intersectoriality. What’s more, various presentations and exchanges revealed there is no national strategy, no community voice or participation, not even a consensus on what constitutes sustainable and responsible tourism and therefore no evidence base upon which to measure progress. I wasn’t sure if it was the dengue or lack of policy/political will making me shudder, but I (and others I spoke with) came away from that panel depressed.

Why? Because responsible and ethical tourism is a two-way street. Recipient countries have rights and obligations and it’s unclear what Cuba is doing about it. The emphasis on golf course and resort development (did you know Cuba is in a crippling drought? We certainly do: it’s on the news and in the papers all the time) and cruise ship tourism (I was hoping someone on the panel would provide cost-benefit analysis on this issue. File under: Wishful Thinking), are troubling. Even more troubling is this trip report from a frequent traveler to the Oriente, and this report from the UN Committee on the Rights of the Child, which while long, lacks substance.

But individual travelers also have rights and obligations and since I can’t do much in the short term about the government’s role, I wanted to write about what you can do to help Cuba while you explore this fascinating country.

#1: Respect the laws of Cuba – If you are a reporter, blogger or freelance writer or filmmaker and enter Cuba on a tourist visa with the intention of writing about or filming here, you’re breaking the law. If you participate in sex tourism, you’re breaking the law (and if you have to pay for sex, you’re a loser). If you couch surf, you’re breaking the law. If you drive drunk or with an open container in your car, you’re breaking the law. If you put up the money for a business or house with a Cuban on the paperwork, you’re breaking the law. Do people do these things all the time? Yes, every day. But people OD on heroin every day, too – that doesn’t mean you’re going to go out and do it, right? I know, I sound like someone’s curmudgeonly mother.

#2: Reduce water usage
– The drought is so dramatic it’s affecting our fresh food supply (although upwards of 70% of food is imported, none of it is of the fresh fruit or veggie variety). Plus, there are millions of Cubans, even right here in Havana, who do not have running water every day. Can you let a faucet drip or run knowing that? Would you do it at home given the same circumstances? Californians know full well what I’m talking about.

#3: Reduce plastic waste – During our team meeting at Cuba Libro yesterday, one member opined that we should sell bottled water (even though we give out gallons of purified water for free every day), because ‘tourists don’t trust boiled water.’ And he’s right – some folks don’t believe boiled water is safe for drinking. But they’re wrong: check the scientific evidence. And the plastic waste 3 million (and counting) tourists create when they drink countless plastic bottles of water during their stay is doing damage. This is an island ecology, where use is outstripping recycling and we don’t have landfill enough for all the plastic waste you leave behind once you return home. So what can you do? If you’re in a casa particular, boil or otherwise treat (drops, chlorine, iodine, filters) water and use a refillable bottle. At the very least, buy the 5 liter jugs of water and refill with that. When all else fails, switch to beer – anything to avoid the half liter bottles overfilling our landfill.

#4: Adapt – My Cuban friends make fun of me I’m so anti-pingüino. ‘The penguin’ is local slang for air conditioning. But it has been unbearably, record-breaking hot this summer, and I’ve had to resort to sleeping some nights with my Russian tank of an AC on ϹИᴧЬНО (that’s ‘high’ in Cyrillic, I think!). So, it’s hot, I get it. But the all-too-common tourist practice of leaving the AC on all day long while at the beach or out sightseeing so the hotel or casa particular room is ‘a lo pingüino’ upon return is totally irresponsible – not only does it sap the local electrical grid and damage the environment, but it contributes to global climate change as well. Besides, in AC-challenged Cuba, adapting is a much more practical survival strategy (just yesterday a US tourist said to me: ‘quite frankly, I’m used to my US comforts, like AC’). In short: suck it up and use your AC judiciously.

#5: Do not, ever, request Guantanamera, Lagrimas Negras, or Chan Chan
– Already Cuban musicians and artists are dumbing down their magnificent repertoire to cater to perceived tourist tastes. Respecting the patrimony of Cuba includes letting these musicians rip on compositions they haven’t played a thousand times for a thousand tourists. Your travel memories will be richer for this expanded listening experience. And don’t forget to tip.

#6: Learn some Spanish (or even better: Cuban) phrases
– No matter where you travel, having a couple of local phrases and vernacular up your sleeve opens doors, minds, and hearts. Get a phrasebook or app. Use it. Trying to communicate, even in the simplest way, in the language of your host country is a sign of respect. It’s not easy, I know this in the marrow of my bones. But it’s also not terribly hard once you start and is immeasurably rewarding. Do it!

#7: R-E-S-P-E-C-T
– Speaking of which: visitors, especially from the USA (who Cubans love for cultural-historical reasons, but also for being big tippers), have to tame their egos. This doesn’t apply to everyone, obviously, but there’s a tendency for some US folks to push the “America [sic] is the greatest/most democratic country in the world” point of view, combined with a cringe-inducing perspective about “how to fix Cuba.” This happened just yesterday at Cuba Libro and got Douglas’ Irish up in a major way – and he has not a drop of the Emerald Isle in his blood. Travelers, from everywhere, frankly, should be conscious that they are visiting a highly-educated, cultured, and professional context, which is no way intellectually ‘frozen in time’ and that Cubans have spent a long time analyzing and living with their problems. No matter how erudite you are in your own life and field – and I include myself here – you don’t know as much as people living here day-to-day, who have spent a lifetime in this complex country. Can you enrich the dialog and provide perspective? Definitely. Can you solve Cuba’s problems after a ten-day or two-month trip? Definitely not. Show respect for your hosts’ intelligence, triumphs, and challenges by listening and learning. No one likes a dogmatic pontificator.

Lest I am accused of being a hypocrite, I will sign off here. If you have something to add about responsible/ethical/sustainable tourism, please write in; I’m starting to put together evidence, documents, and experiences related to what works and what doesn’t regarding this issue with an eye towards action.

Happy travels!

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Filed under Americans in cuba, Cuban customs, Cuban economy, Cuban idiosyncracies, Cuban phrases, Cuban Revolution, dream destinations, environment, Expat life, Hawaii, Living Abroad, Travel to Cuba

The Cuba No One’s Writing About

Early adopters of my blog may remember my post (many moons ago) where I listed the reasons why I love Cuba. Considering I’ve opted to make this crazy place my home for the past 13+ years, this is a question I get fairly often. For several reasons – the superficial fluff being published about Cuba with frightening frequency, the tsunami of clueless tourists, the stress Cuba’s new economy is generating – I think it’s time to revisit why Cuba rocks. This is the Cuba no one is writing about – the deep, below-the-surface substance that makes this place so special. Let’s dive in:

Our diet is largely chemical- and preservative-free.
Sure, you can spend $5 on a can of Pringles or $3 on a can of Red Bull, but when you can whip up fresh plantain chips for mere cents and buy fresh-pressed guarapo for pennies, aside from the novelty, why would you?

The country is popping with wonderful eye/soul candy. Human, architectural, artistic, natural – this place is a visual and spiritual feast.

There is music everywhere
. Literally (and whether you like it or not).

Havana’s tactile nights.
Once you catch that savory-sweet wind laced with gardenias, plumeria and sea salt, moonlight glancing off the waves crashing into the Malecón? No tiene nombre as we say here.

Solidarity.
Foreigners ask me pretty often if Cubans’ willingness to share, lend a hand, empathize, and the like is real. It is. I think this is one of those things – if we can retain it (dare I say strengthen?) – will go a good way toward saving what’s really admirable about this society whatever the next few years may bring.

Abortion, free and on demand.
Ever wonder why it’s so hard to find an orphanage in Cuba? This is it: almost 100% of children born in Cuba is a wanted child.

Cubans are shame-free when it comes to bodily functions. Got diarrhea? Your period? Hemorrhoids? Feel free to share (over-sharing and TMI are concepts which don’t translate here); seek advice and resources; vent. Interestingly, this is one of the few areas of discussion and interface which is completely free from gender considerations. Just today I was talking with a Cubano friend about finger probing prostate exams, while another guy lent a kind ear to a friend waxing cathartic about her crippling hot flashes.

Embracing bodily (mis)functions is something I came to appreciate very early on: one of my earliest memories after moving here occurred at a family barbeque at Playa Larga. A couple of hours after meeting everybody, one of the teen girls emerged from the ocean and appealed to men and women alike: ‘does anyone have a maxipad? I just got my period.’ (Yes: there was blood running down her leg. Did I mention that TMI doesn’t apply here?!). And she felt no shame because of it. Why would she? She got her period unexpectedly – one of the most natural things in the world (and what keeps the human race going, incidentally) – and it was entirely not her fault. It’s like how Cubans view disabilities: it’s not that person’s fault, so it’s just downright cruel to shun or otherwise judge someone for a condition or circumstance which is completely out of their control.

But I digress.

Back to how Cubans view bodily functions and how this perspective implicitly rejects Puritanism and gender paradigms. I’ve been in conversations with friends – male and female – about: being a man-whore; circumcision; boob jobs (for both aesthetic and medical reasons); to what size the cervix must dilate to pass a baby; bowel movements – lots and lots of shit talk (frequency, consistency, color, remedies for, causes of); hemorrhoid operations; and penis operations (thankfully not related and not on the same person).

And then there was this recent exchange between some (platonic) friends as we headed out one night:
Her: Shit. I don’t have another Tampax (pronounced in Cuban: Tampac).
Him: I’ll go get one from my sister.
Me: =)

Cuba: it makes you laugh. It makes you cry. But it never leaves anyone indifferent. And this is the #1 reason I love this crazy place: it arouses passion.

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Filed under Americans in cuba, Cuban customs, Cuban idiosyncracies, Cuban phrases, Cuban Revolution, dream destinations, Expat life, health system, Living Abroad, Travel to Cuba

Rock ‘n Roll Resurrection: Dead Daisies in Havana

I knew it was going to be a different kind of night when the heavy at the door started scrutinizing my press pass. It was from last year, true, but I’ve been accredited here for a decade plus and I didn’t have my new credential through no fault of my own.

‘This is you?’ he asked, in a not-too-friendly rumble.

I kept silent as he took a closer look. Here we go, I thought.

‘This isn’t you,’ he stated with some authority. ‘This is a mulata.’

I had to laugh. I don’t know what kind of caramel-colored glasses he was wearing or what hooch he was swilling, but I wanted some: a mulata? Me? These are words I never imagined applied to this white-like-leche, be-freckled chick. Luckily, our discussion was truncated by a group of kids sauntering up brandishing CUCs. He palmed the bills and waved us in to one of my all-time favorite Havana venues: El Salon Rosado de la Tropical.

—–

I have very few natural talents, but arriving precisely as the party starts to heat up and sensing when the pendulum is about to swing the other way – my signal to kiss and split – are probably my most utilized and useful. So it was for The Dead Daisies, the historic concert held this past weekend. I walked through the doors just as opening act David Blanco (who I’ve seen plenty) was finishing his set. I took a short cut to the dance floor, ran into friends, then some more, then more still. We danced ourselves as close to the stage as safety permitted, but the place was packed – frikis had begun arriving as early as 11am, from as far away as Camagüey, to hear members of their favorite bands (The Stones; Guns N Roses; Ozzy Osbourne; Motley Crüe) rock the Cuban capital.

For those who like to rock!

Already the Salon Rosado was puddled with vomit (not mine, don’t let the photo fool you).

Nothing new or novel there: knowing your ingestion limit, when and how to mix what, how to pace yourself – this is a tricky equation which many Cuban rockers have yet to get. I’m talking about the younger crowd mostly, but we had to scurry out of the way as security physically restrained and removed a middle-aged dude, fairly drooling, with eyes bulging rabidly. Vomit, condom ‘balloons’ batted airborne with verve, and bottles produced from backpacks – these are de riguer at whatever big Cuban concert and were in abundant evidence this Saturday night.

What set this concert and this group apart was the sheer power, pedigree and talent of the band, combined with the setting: the Salon Rosado is that rare combination of big enough to pack in a few thousand high-energy fans, while retaining the intimacy of a much smaller gig. It’s also a multi-tiered, open-air venue with major space given over to the floor, which means lots of room to dance and mosh and good bird’s eye views, for voyeur rock and rollers. As for The Dead Daisies: we’ve had some big bands blow through Havana during my tenure, including Audioslave, Sepultura, Kool and the Gang and Calle 13; but these concerts are always held in the ‘Protestódromo’ – the seaside, make-shift area designed for massive protests and rallies (it was built during the Elián trauma) and adapted for concerts more recently. I’ve had tons of fun at these shows, but as you may imagine: the audio is shitty. Crashing surf and whipping wind are not conducive to music appreciation. It’s also worth keeping in mind that the last big concert like this was in 2010.

So we were due.

I hate to admit it, but I didn’t recognize the names of any of the musicians (though I reserve the right to invoke the ‘stuck in Cuba’ defense). I had never heard of the band either and was skeptical – what kind of name was Dead Daisies anyway? Flowers, dead or alive, don’t evoke screaming, pulsating, orgasmic rock n roll, not in my mind and body anyway (no disrespect to Guns N Roses and especially Slash, who rocks it real, but Axl’s whiny voice has always rubbed me in all the wrong ways).

R Fortus

But damn, did The Dead Daisies come through. I’m a guitar-loving kinda gal and when I read that Richard Fortus (Guns N Roses) counted John McLaughlin, Jeff Beck, and Robert Fripp among his preferred players, I knew things would be just fine. Just how fine I didn’t realize until the first notes rung out from Fortus’ drop-dead gorgeous Gibson over the sea of banging heads. There is perhaps nothing more glorious than a Cuban crowd united by the joy, energy and electricity of music well made, played from the heart. And so it was.

Meanwhile, any band with Dead in its name evokes that other, more (in)famous band synonymous with long sets peppered with covers and standards, enthusiastic mind-altering substance use, and drum solos; I was pretty shocked to experience similarities at the Salon Rosado. My olfactory sense alerted me to someone nearby enjoying the mighty herb and the pierced, tattooed guy on all fours puking violently while simultaneously smoking a cigarette argued for abuse rather than just use (though it was an impressive example of multi-tasking). But when Brian Tichy (from Ozzy’s band) ripped a 15-minute drum solo, the entire crowd was transported to an alternate reality. Holy shit. This guy is a monster. I’m not much for tricks with sticks, but he got admirable air between trills and when he started beating the skins with his hands? We went wild. Well done man, well done.

The Dead Daisies in Havana

An indisputable highlight was The Dead Daisies’ version of Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door (yet another example that anyone covering a Dylan tune does it better than Bob), where the crowd of 3000-plus needed no encouragement to sing the chorus long and hard. It was just after this when I realized I was in the no-woman’s-land between two increasingly large and frenetic mosh pits – dangerous territory for anyone not looking for a random fist in the face or elbow to the ribs. I danced away from the mosh sandwich towards my friends, marvelling at how music unites people and ignites the collective soul.

The Dead Daisies gave us the gift of uplift – and boy we could use more of it.

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Filed under Americans in cuba, dream destinations, Expat life, Living Abroad, Travel to Cuba

Guaguas, Blackouts, and Ham Sandwiches: Making Music in Havana

After all these years here, I never tire of the constant education. Meeting new people, learning, creating, connecting – Cuba es así. These past 10 days were a potent distillation: immersed in an international ajiaco (thanks Roy Hargrove/Crisol) of musicians and artists, brains and beauties, I learned many things and shined new light.

I learned that no matter where you are in the world or what type of music you play (in this case Renaissance and Baroque), you’re leaving the gig with 14 people and a half a dozen big instruments crammed into a mini van.

I learned that whether in Hialeah or Havana, the band may have to leave the gig running for the bus. And dinner was the cheapest, quickest thing around – in our case, the ubiquitous ham sandwich.

I learned – or re-learned – that magical things can happen when you combine musicians and blackouts (get your mind out of the gutter: I’m talking musically).

trio4

I heard a baroque guitar in a small ensemble for the first time and man, is that a hot little instrument. I know everyone’s gaga for the ukulele, but I tell ya…

I learned more viscerally that bass and tenor viola da gamba are powerful, communicative instruments. The treble? It still makes my ears twitch like an adorable terrier hearing above our range.

I had affirmed – once again – that music and movement, creativity and goodwill can transcend all language and cultural barriers.

I understood the profound human capacity for better communication, better conflict resolution, more fluid ways of being and wider ways of thinking.

I learned that the recorder sounds pretty damn good when not in the hands of a 3rd grader.

I learned that a cheese grater and a knife make a mean percussion instrument in the hands of a Cuban.

I realized that no matter how green the Yuma or how little traveled, how poorly they speak Spanish or how deeply-seeded the disinformation about Cuba, with an open mind and open heart, Cubans will touch both, ignite both, profoundly.

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And I was taught, once again, that the support and love of one’s community (however defined), is priceless and irreplaceable.

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Filed under Americans in cuba, dream destinations, Expat life, Living Abroad, Travel to Cuba

Day 1, Year 0: Cuba and the USA

A bunch of people have asked about what I, CCG, personally think about recent groundbreaking announcements vis-à-vis Cuba, the US, and their respective release of prisoners. Some of you folks who follow my blog, but also a rash of people who read my dispatch for the Daily News (New York’s hometown paper!), came around querying. So to complacer them, you, and me, I’ll give you some of my thoughts on this, Day 1 of Year 0.

For me, the tangible effects this is going to have on Cuban families (and I mean that in the most expansive, criollo way possible) is the most important issue. Any improvement in trade, telecommunications, travel, postal and embassy (!) services, immigration policies, and transparency, translates into some sort of improvement for Cuban families. Ahora: the question is at what cost those improvements? Therein lies the rub, which is why it deserves is own short discussion.

I’m hearing a lot of static in the international media/blogosphere about the ‘Americanization’ of Cuba. First off, I suggest anyone using this term study up on Simón Bolívar, with a little José Martí thrown in for good measure. Second, the idea that US companies like McDonald’s and Starbuck’s are going to roll in and over the island disregards two very important components of the Cuban political reality: 1) the state remains steadfast in its commitment to complete sovereignty and 2) they’ve been thinking about this day for over 50 years. It also ignores two important factors in Cuban daily reality: 1) there are more pressing material problems than satisfying a Big Mac/Frappuccino craving and 2) policy makers are aware of the health dangers (ie chronic disease) burgers and milkshakes pose and so should work to keep them out – protecting public health is especially important in Cuba where the government maintains a universal, free system and regards health and well being as a human right.

Taking these realities into account doesn’t mean that no US chains will stake their claims here, but I think the Cubans will be strategic about whom they let in. Marriott, Hilton and other hotels, Cargill, ADM, and their big ag interest friends, Home Depot, telecommunications providers – these are all likely candidates for early entry into the Cuban market. McDonalds and Starbucks, not so much. Maybe it’s too rosy a picture, but I don’t think the folks running the show are just going to open the floodgates and let US interests run roughshod over the place.

The ‘run run’ (as we say here) amongst some, is that the policy changes won’t stick or even be enacted. One camp reasons the Cubans will finesse a flip flop, while the other argues the US Congress and/or next President (should it not be a Democrat or Rand Paul), will roll back whatever Obama and company have in store for the next year. These bits of ‘logic’ defy logic. First of all, the Cubans would be completely loco to announce such policy changes and then not pursue them – this is just a recipe for disaster given the current context on the island. And as far as Washington goes, US business interests want in on Cuba, like yesterday. The bottom line (pun intended): The desire for increased commerce and trade will trump any tantrums thrown by hard-line Cubans and Republicans regarding Cuba. As Obama has said repeatedly (paraphrasing Einstein), pursuing the same actions over and over again and expecting different results is the definition of insanity. And the embargo is a self-defeating policy – another opinion voiced by President Obama in these past few days.

Leaving politics aside, this is an incredibly emotional moment – especially for those of us who have been adversely affected and working so tirelessly to have this Draconian policy reversed. Obviously, change isn’t going to happen with the flip of a switch. There are a lot of messy threads to untangle, many policies and steps to analyze and tweak. For example, the 50% or so of Televisión Cubana that is pirated from US channels – HBO, Showtime, Discovery, ESPN – is going to go by the wayside, sooner rather than later. But after ‘no es fácil’ (it isn’t easy), our favorite saying here is ‘algo es algo’ (something is better than nothing). And the announcements of this past week are a very big something.

Just now, my 51-year old neighbor stopped by. “I never thought I would live to see the day. I knew The Five would return home in my lifetime, but I never thought I’d be alive to witness the normalization of relations. It is a great, great moment in our history.” She came over to congratulate me on the new era of US-Cuban relations (this is happening all over Havana these days: whether stranger, friend or neighbor, everyone is greeting each other with claps on the back, hugs and shouts of ¡felicidades!) and to let me know she’s already renovating a room in her house to rent to Americans, once they can travel here freely.

Personally, I can’t wait. Vamos bien.

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Filed under Americans in cuba, Communications, Cuban economy, Cuban idiosyncracies, Cuban phrases, Cuban Revolution, dream destinations, Expat life, health system, Living Abroad, Raul Castro, Travel to Cuba

CUBAN DISPATCHES: Rock ‘n Roll!

Life has become way too complicated (and trying, truth be told) lately – something I predicted would happen. I chose to pointedly ignore the trying part here in that ‘hey, it’s a new year, maybe the world really isn’t going to shit and perhaps I will finish my memoir’ spirit of things. Also, since Cuba’s default setting is Trying, I didn’t want to beat a dead horse. Instead, I focused on the need to balance competing priorities and reminded everyone – myself included – to take the time to stop and smell the roses.

Six months on I can safely say I’ve failed pretty miserably in following my own advice (see previous maudlin post!) and that new year’s optimism has, once again, proven to be a fallacy: the world is going to shit, my memoir continues to gather dust, and I can’t even sort through the priorities, let alone begin to balance them.

Regular followers of Here is Havana will have noticed a precipitous decline in new posts over the past year and for those who care: so sorry. If it’s any consolation, not writing screws with my head mightily since it’s a form of catharsis and therapy – something anyone who lives long-term in Cuba needs in spades. So, here I am again, with a new proposition: a series of short dispatches crafted from various Cuba experiences, 2014.

Let me pop the Dispatch cherry with one of the country’s oldest outdoor music festivals, Atenas Rock. Held in a copse tucked back in the hills of Matanzas, this weekend rock festival features two days and nights of heavy/death/black metal, camping, and more drinking and drugs than food and water. I had no idea what to expect and knew only one person in our piquete. But I love to camp, (plus it’s something I’m good at); I can never get enough rock and roll; and I always like to meet new people. To hell with competing priorities, I thought as I packed my camping hammock.

Our camp!

Our camp!

Although this type of metal isn’t generally my cup of tea, I’m 13% more deaf, which is generally a good measure of a proper rock festival. It’s terrible for my friends, family, colleagues and anyone else with whom I converse of course: I only hear half of what they’re saying and the rest of the time I’m shouting because my volume control is busted. But Atenas Rock 2014 was completely worth it.

crowd1

Everyone tells me this wasn’t as good as other years, in another era, but this weekend festival has some basic factors working it its favor. First, the setting in a grassy valley surrounded by woods bisected by the meandering Canímar river, is majestic. Second, the entire affair is free – the camping, the music, swimming in the refreshing pocket pools along the river. And, much to my amazement, Matanzas has some pretty good rock and roll bands (though groups come from Havana, Holguín and other provinces to play here, transport difficulties and lack of resources mean Matanzas is heavily represented); keep your ears open for Rice & Beans and Stone Road, especially. Finally, though there was liberal intake of all sorts of psychotropic substances, it was a very mellow, even family atmosphere, with long-haired rug rats throwing up the devil horns as they frolic in the river.

yankees vub

Some aspects, however, were less than ideal. Like not providing a single bathroom for the hundreds of concert goers? A shit show, literally. To be clear: I have no problem peeing and shitting in the woods. Indeed, I’ve logged en plein air baño time all over the world, from Hawaii and Bolivia to Morocco and Guatemala. But after a weekend of roughing it with people ignorant of the most basic camping tenets, heading into the trees when nature called was like walking into a feces minefield. To wit: my friend went to pee before turning in the first night and almost took a massive digger when her flip flop skidded in a pile of human shit. The kid in the next tent convulsing and barfing, pausing just long enough to shout about how he was possessed by a santo malo was also a bit of a downer. I, for one, was thankful when he passed out long and hard.

Shredding!

Shredding!

Sleep was elusive, what with deafening decibels shaking my tent flap and too many of the bands played covers. Hey, I like a good cover just as much as the next rock ‘n roll chick, but when it’s Highway to Hell played by six different bands, some badly? It gets a little tiresome. And it’s a waste of valuable stage time. But all in all, it was a fantastic festival. I can’t wait until next year. Rock on!

last night

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Filed under Americans in cuba, camping, Cuban customs, dream destinations, Expat life, Living Abroad, off-the-beaten track, Travel to Cuba