Cuba

[Miguel]

I added following in response to a request for a trip report in Cuba section.......

The following story was told to me by a friend. I of course never visited there. I am a law-abiding citizen, and it would be illegal for a citizen of the U.S. to visit that country. This happened four or five years ago, and my friend kindly recounted the experience this evening.

I’d always been fascinated with Cuba and its relations with the U.S. One of the last vestiges of Communism left on the planet. Aged jewel of the Caribbean. Orwell’s 1984 in practice. And I like to dive, and had heard good things about Colonia on Isla de Juventud. So vacation time came around and despite the U.S. ban on travel, I decided to check it out.

I flew first to Cancun, then onto Havana. The immigration guy did stamp my passport, but with a very faint image of a building – no letters or writing. I checked into the Havana Libre hotel, a skyscraper in the middle of the Vedado neighborhood. Like much of the country, this hotel was like something straight out of the 1950’s, right down to the furnishings in the room.

That night I went to a disco next to the hotel, and met Noemi, a very attractive 22 year old morena. She offered to show me around Havana, and that’s what we did the next day.

The older part of Havana was fascinating, like the French Quarter in New Orleans on speed (before Katrina). And dilapidated. Lots of beautiful old buildings. Most of the people were very friendly. But you did see a lot of indications of official hostility towards the Yankees. Che Guevera’s photo is everywhere. He started several revolutions, died young, and left a good looking corpse. So he makes a better hero than Fidel.

The third day we headed over to the Hemingway Marina. At the time, I think it was legal for U.S. citizens with boats to dock here, and even enter Cuba if they didn’t spend anything. Anyway, when we tried to get through the security gate, the guard started questioning Noemi. She didn’t have I.D., and the guard thought she was underage. Or at least maybe he thought this was an opportunity to shake down a gringo. Somehow we managed to eventually get by, and had the taxi drive around a little. This place looked like an upscale neighborhood in a coastal area of the U.S. We weren’t able to get out of the car though, so instead headed back to the Miramar section of the city, and went to a hotel there that would allow tourists and their Cuban guests to use the pool there. We sucked down a few Mojitos (Cuban national drink – highly recommended) and got a little polluted.

Anyway, between Day 2 and Day 3, I changed hotels. I was in another place, I don’t remember the name, but close to the university and the Havana Libre. In Cuba it’s a big no-no to have a local woman in your hotel room. But I had a plan. A devious plan. To take advantage not only of this rule, but also of sweet Noemi. Remember, she was already a little wasted from the Mojitos. I asked her back to my hotel to eat dinner in the restaurant, on the 2nd floor of the hotel. The guard at first wouldn’t let us on the elevator. But then when I told him we were headed to the restaurant, he relented. There I plied innocent Noemi with more booze. And told her I had a gift for her in my room. The elevator on the second floor was unguarded, so we headed on to my room.

Well, the next morning, Noemi starts rifling my suitcase. She wants everything. A couple of my shirts for her brother, my toothpaste, comb, boxer briefs, etc., etc. I sent her off that morning with a few items and arrangements to meet up again later that afternoon at a fair close to the hotel.

The security guard at the hotel was royally pissed when we went downstairs. $10 in his palm did a little good, but he was still mad as hell.

An aside. There was a teacher’s convention in Miami, and a big group of female Mexican teachers staying at the hotel. One saw me a couple of times and was kind of hitting on me. Kind of cute, but nothing like Noemi. Note to self: staying at hotels having teacher’s conventions would be a great way to meet women.

Well, at the fair that afternoon, I met Noemi’s brother. Really nice, friendly guy. We hit it off extremely well.

As time progressed, I started to put 2 and 2 together. Noemi was from Holguin. Noemi was 22 years old. Her brother was 22 years old. That would mean they’re twins. And they don’t look anything alike. Hey, that’s not her brother wearing my shirt. That’s her boyfriend, or her husband.

Noemi gave me this nice photo of her on a motorcycle, and she wrote the words in English on the back, “Remember, never forget.” But her English really sucked. I wonder how many other foreign boyfriends have a photo from her with the same words.

Well, I really liked that woman, but given the circumstances (I’m not too interested in being husband #2 or courting a woman who’s got 10 boyfriends that she’ll “remember and never forget”), it was time to move on.

That evening I went to a Cuban bar where they were playing live rock-n-roll and had a great time. I bought a bottle of rum and shared it with some people I met there. This guy kept trying to fix me up with his sister (and it really was his sister, as his wife was there) but I was a little heartbroken and not too receptive. Besides I was leaving the next day and wouldn’t have time to go out with her anyway.

Later that evening I wandered along the sea wall, called the Malecon. A lot of Cubans hang out here, just to pass the time. I’d talk with people, and ran across one girl and her friends who was headed to Isla de Juventud the next day. That’s where I was going too, in a couple of days. I had no “romantic” interest in this person, she was plainly just too young, but it was fun talking with her and her friends. She asked me if I wanted to go with her to la Isla and stay with her family. I said nope, already got plans to fly, and stay at Colonia, the center for diving. Then she asked me if I wanted to go find a room in Havana. She was 16 years old!

This was a very common and unfortunate aspect of Cuba at that particular point in time. The average wage was around $10 or $20 per month. People also had subsidized housing, and stamps to use to get food. But every month the food would run out after 2 or 3 weeks. To lead a second rate existence, you needed to find money from somewhere. And if you didn’t have relatives in Miami, then about the only other source was tourists. I don’t think this girl wasn’t a prostitute, I think she was opportunistic.

Something like this happened to me the next day, again. I found a private taxi to take me to my next stop, the Tropicoco hotel on the beach at Santa Maria, about 20 miles outside Havana. I got there in a private taxi, that a tout steered me to. (Coming back through Havana, I saw the same guy, who was operating a bicycle taxi, working his ass off, sweating like a pig to haul a couple of fat European tourists around town in the mid-day heat – tough way to make a living.) Anyway, later that day I was in a dollar store close to the Tropicoco. The dollar stores were unique. They wouldn’t accept Cuban pesos, only American dollars. And they actually had merchandise that people wanted to buy. A young woman who was shopping there asked me if I would buy her some shoes, in return for a quick trip between the dunes behind the beach.

This was turning into a bad dream. You hear about people saying some of the women in Colombian agencies are prostitutes. It was starting to seem like all the women in this country were prostitutes. And some of the women who approached me on the beach and the night club in Santa Maria later just added to that impression. I am exaggerating here, and this really just applied to the tourist areas. Later, when I got off the beaten track and went to Isla de Juventud, my perception changed 100%.

Next day very early it was time to fly to Nueva Gerona, on the Isla de Juventud. This is the second largest island in Cuba, and includes a penal colony where Castro spent some time before becoming the Great Leader. Also some nice black sand beaches on the north side of the island, and decent night life on the weekends in Nueva Gerona.

Unfortunately, I get to the airport and find that Cubana has lost my reservation. I’m stuck there, but find a guy with a 1950’s American car willing to drive me to the south coast where I can catch the hydrofoil. So that’s where we go.

I make to to Nueva Gerona, rent a car, and try to get a reservation on a flight back to Havana later that week. (I thought I already had one.) Well, that wasn’t going to happen, so I headed to La Colonia. On the way I drove by a town called La Fe, I think, off the main highway. This wasn’t a tourist town, so I figured I’d get off the main highway and take a drive through to see a typical Cuban pueblo. I got more hostile stares in about 15 minutes there than I’d gotten in the last 5 years.

Colonia is a decent place for a cheap diving vacation. The rooms were only around $40 a night, and reasonably good value. The food sucked, but it did at every other hotel and government run restaurant on the island too. The privately-owned Paladores could be quite nice though.

The one thing I didn’t like about the diving was the visibility. It was the poorest I’ve seen (or not seen) in the Caribbean, but I think part of it might have been seasonal. I understand it’s better other parts of the year. This is where Castro used to come to dive BTW.

My most interesting experiences were nightly conversations with Ramon, the Havana native and Party Member who managed Colonia. He’s very much pro-Fidel, while I think the economic system there is una locura. We still did manage to disagree respectfully, even though we had very different viewpoints.

Also, every night there would be a show followed by dancing in the disco. What was interesting, there was a dancer that both I and this cardiologist from Madrid were interested in. This guy must have just finished with residency. He was around 30 years old, and was a handsome guy. I’m older, and own my own business, an industrial type of business. The dancer was much more interested in me, because I’m a capitalist – I own a business. In Cuba doctors are a dime a dozen.

That’s about it. The return was pretty uneventful. Cuba was a fascinating experience.

[DCNUPE/Eddie]

Great report! Miguel, how did you...I mean your friend get passed the passport stampy thing? Did you (sorry)did he ask them not to stamp his passport? Thanks, I also have a "friend" who is interested in visiting Cuba, mostly for the music

peace/cuidate
Eddie

[Lostagain]

Miguel your friend had a really interesting story to tell. I hate to think what will happen when Cuba gets flooded with gringo tourists once the silly embargo is ended.

L.A.

[Clay]

nice trip report

[Miguel]

Thanks guys. Eddie, he forgot to tell them not to stamp the passport on the way in.

Hey Miguel, can you ask your friend what currency he used there? I understand that Canadien dollars are accepted, but I could be wrong.

[Miguel]

KPunch, the best exchange rates are with Canadian dollars or Euros. U.S. dollars are converted at an artificially low rate.

[RXD]

It is one of the largest and best country to travel. Hitchhiking is the only system where you can travel for Cuban prices without paying a tourist premium.Pure island indulgence lies at many of the gleaming resorts punctuating Cuba's glorious coastline.