Cuba

• March 17, 2017
• 7 years

Greatest Hits

It is honestly unreal to me how eight weeks in Havana just magically flew by. I wish there were proper words for me to express how grateful I am for the experience, what I’ve learned from it, and how much it meant to me, but everything I write or say about Cuba seems to fall short. In this post, I’ll do my best to sum up the highlights of my time there, and perhaps through these specifics, my feelings towards this country will become clearer.

Sights and Experiences

The Malecón. Stretching eight kilometers along the northern coast of la Habana, the Malecón is a just a sidewalk lined by a sturdy concrete wall, decorated with squat triangular pillars (sometimes) every thirty yards or so. But it’s so much more; it’s shown in every Cuban movie and its name is heard in every reggaeton song. Runners jog down it every morning as the sun rises, while lovers meander along it every evening as the sun sets. On windy days, waves – massive, imposing, tall waves – crash over its walls and flood the adjacent highway, often shutting it down for hours. And yet, the walls stand strong and proud. The Malecón might arguably be the most iconic location in Cuba, at least for me.

La Feria de los Libros. The Fortaleza de la Cabaña lies just north of la Habana Vieja and is an impressive fortress from colonial times. Every February, this fortress gets filled with hundreds of thousands of books, all in celebration of the International Book Fair. Cuba selects a country every year to offer an honorary exposition, and this year the recipient was Canada. We had the opportunity to attend the book fair, and it was awe-inspiring. Outside of the castle are many food stands and bouncy castles, but when you enter, it’s strictly business. You walk along these towering castle corridors and enter rooms dedicated to different topics and countries. Cuba, naturally, had its own tent of Cuban work, but Canada also had a couple large-scale rooms. The best part of the event: all of the books cost typically less than a dollar. Thus, Cubans, whose average salary is $24 dollars a month, have the opportunity to take their kids and invest in fantastic literature without breaking the bank. Once you’ve gotten your books, you can check out the fun poster and coloring book stands, buy an ice cream or popcorn, and stand at the edge of the fortress, looking down at magnificent Habana. A beautiful event created by beautiful people.

Quinta de los Molinos. Nestled away in the southernmost part of Centro Habana is the most peaceful botanical garden, Quinta de los Molinos. Inside, you can roam long pathways surrounded by towering, lush trees, little nature classrooms, and koi ponds. There are several exhibits with animals to see as well, mainly birds – parakeets, parrots, turkeys, peacocks – but the real prize-winner is the butterfly habitat. Once you enter, you find yourself in this magical garden where butterflies fly freely in all directions. I’ve honestly never felt more like I was in some sort of fairy tale.

Fusterlandia. Inspired by Gaudí, Cuban artist José Fuster decided to renovate a run-down and dangerous neighborhood in Jaimenitas, located far west along the coast of Habana. Once again, I was transported. The entire neighborhood is made entirely of mosaic; mosaic sculptures, figures, columns, patterns, designs, walls, ceilings. Every which way you look, a new picture emerges among the broken tile. There is literally no blank space nor an area of solid color. Every surface is some refracted picture, creating a wildly imaginative, whimsical, and jaw-dropping structure. Fuster started the neighborhood and house in 1992, and the project has never stopped since. As you exit this alternate universe, there is a large sign bearing the words “Homenaje a Gaudí” to thank the Spaniard for his inspiration.

Cámara Oscura. At the corner of Brasil and Mercaderes in the Plaza Vieja en la Habana Vieja is a tall yellow building tucked between similar colors and architecture. However, if you enter the building and ascend the elevator to the top floor, you’re led out into the rooftop, offering an expansive view of the city. Take a step inside a small corridor, and there’s the Cámara Oscura. The only device of its kind in all of Latin America, the Cámara Oscura uses reflective mirrors to project a 360-degree live image of any location in the city. A worker there will explain the camera to you and fiddle with it, closing in upon different images occurring throughout the city in real time: laundry blowing in the breeze on clotheslines, cars driving down the Malecón, musicians playing on the corner of a plaza. Truly incredible and fun to watch.

Viñales. I did an entire post on climbing in Viñales, so I don’t need to go over all of it again, but Viñales is honestly gorgeous. Gnarly walls to climb covered in odd features – tufas, chicken heads, stalactites, stalagmites – caves, and greenery everywhere you turn. It’s no wonder why Viñales was Fidel’s favorite place to go, nor why it is considered “the Yosemite of Cuba.” The natural beauty of Viñales is characterized by beautiful views at a distance, yet tough, scraggly plants and terrain upon closer inspection, perfectly balanced.

Parque Cubano. In the same vein as Viñales, Parque Cubano is a national park just 15 minutes outside of the province of Trinidad. Similarly rugged and lush, walls of bee colonies and endless pools to swim in are just some of the sights you encounter as you walk the trails of the park. We stopped at a large pool that offered cliff jumping, spelunking, cave swimming with bats, and “deep water soloing.” Possibly one of the most enjoyable afternoons we had in Cuba, getting nice and sweaty on a hike followed by jumping into a pool enclosed by a magnificent cave.

Places to Party

1830. A famous salsa club on the border of Vedado and Miramar in la Habana, 1830 boasts the most impressive salsa dancers you can find. Live music on Thursday and Sunday nights, and many of the employees are out on the floor to show you some steps to dance along. Cubans love to dance, so it wasn’t uncommon for many men to just grab us by the elbows and pull us onto the dancefloor, for better or for worse. In any case, we learned some moves here and were always entertained by all the middle-aged female tourists dancing with the young Cuban men.

Submarino Amarillo. An underground bar completely based off of the Beatles’ Yellow Submarine movie, Submarino hosts cover bands every night. Inside, you’ll find middle-aged Cubans absolutely jamming and singing all the English lyrics to classic American rock songs, all played by super-talented Cuban bands. In between sets, a big screen plays music videos to other classics, so you never have to stop dancing.

La Fábrica de Arte Cubano. Easily one of the most impressive places that I have ever been. Inside an abandoned factory, La Fábrica (FAC for short), consists of two floors of weaving passageways full of modern art (painting, sculpture, collage, clothing, jewelry, you name it!), five different bars with their own themes, two indoor concert stages, an interior performance space, outdoor terraces, and a chic restaurant. You can go in for just $2 to see the art, participate in a rumba dance lesson, or watch a short play, or pay for drinks and dance the night away listening to live bands and DJs. Truly a place like no other.

Food

My roommate and I quickly accumulated our local food favorites, including our local churro and turrón de maní (peanut butter fudge) guys, ice cream gal, and preferred cafetería, but below are some unique, higher-quality places.

Casa de Gelato. Home to quality gelato – just as good as you can get in the US, at least – and for only $1 a scoop. We liked their maní flavors and “riquíssimo,” or Nutella-flavored.

El de Frente. A modern, hip rooftop bar in Old Havana that is known for its expensive, but incredibly delicious drinks. Their specialty are fresh fruit daiquiris (Old Havana in particular pushes for daiquiris, since Hemingway drank them there mostly), including mango, strawberry, guava, and the best of all, passion fruit.

La Bombilla Verde. Arguably the most hipster place we ever went to. With just a green lantern outside its doors to locate it, Bombilla Verde boasts modern art (portraits of Che Guevara and John Lennon mixed, for example), specialty coffee drinks, cozy lighting and tables, and trova music/poetry readings every night. Perfect for doing homework.

Café Galería. Café Galería is comparable to Bombilla, but it’s worth mentioning because it’s where I found my first pancake in Cuba. There the pancakes were called “arepas,” which refers to cornmeal, but they didn’t seem to have cornmeal. “Panqueques” really aren’t a thing in Cuba; generally, if anything, it’s crepes you’ll find. But in addition to arepas with your choice of honey, jelly, or chocolate cream, you can also get quality omelets, grilled cheeses, and coffee mixed with ice cream and spices here; all fine products.

Camino al Sol. We tragically only discovered Camino al Sol in the last week of our time in Cuba, but it is phenomenal. It has tons of fancy appetizers and desserts, but its main attraction are your choice of flavored pasta – spinach, eggplant, ginger, beet, curry, to name a few – with pesto or tomato sauce. And it comes with a starter that consists of veggies that we’re pretty sure must have come from the food black market. (No joke, apples are sold in the black market in Cuba…you can’t buy them anywhere else.)

Oasis Nelva. In Old Havana tucked away on a hidden street, you can stumble upon this beautiful oasis-style garden shop. Little did we know, this shop is connected to a crepe restaurant, and all of the veggies grown there are the veggies you find in your crepes – carrots, asparagus, kale, lettuce, mushrooms, etc. all rolled up in a crepe garnished with olives and a sweet balsamic drizzle. Man, this post is making me hungry. And the dessert crepes are equally good – Nutella, ice cream, honey, fruits, and in any combination!

Museo de Chocolate. This is not a museum, but once you’re hit with the overpowering aroma of chocolate upon entry, you really don’t care. This specialized chocolate shop sells all sorts and shapes of chocolate, but its beverages are what take the cake. Hot chocolate, yes, but cold chocolate as well; the richest, thickest, most glorious chocolate milk you can find. You can even buy churros at a stand right outside of the place and dunk them in the cold chocolate…not that we ever did something so unhealthy.

Routines

Here are just some things that I did on a day-to-day or week-to-week basis that I’ll really miss.

Interacting with my host family. Every morning, our housekeeper Caridad would make my roommate and I a beautiful breakfast of fresh fruit and fried eggs, asking us about our lives and saying “Gracias, mi vida, gracias mi amor!” even when we just were simply helping her clear the table. Our host mom, really grandma, Angelita would ask “¿Y cómo durmieron las niñas?” and would express her concern about various things – daylight savings time, the windiness, us running too early in the morning. Without fail, she’d ask us what time we’d like dinner, and we’d always respond 7:00, but we’d call her if that changed. And she’d set about her day, tidying up her little garden, fastidiously directing her gardener and carpenter, washing clothes, cleaning the house, and preparing heavenly meals.

Her husband, Silvino, would shuffle in and asked how we’d slept as well, kissing us on the forehead as he made his way to his little workshop where he writes novels. We’d finish breakfast and say goodbye to all three, and they’d say the same sweet things: “¡Que pase lindo día, cuidense por allá!” We’d come home and often find the old couple seated side by side in little rocking chairs, watching the news for probably the third hour straight. They’d smile in surprise to see us, as if we didn’t have homework to do and should be out all day.

At dinner, we’d sit and discuss how delicious Angelita’s cooking was, what Silvino wrote or read or researched that day, and what life was like in Cuba when they were young. And after Angelita commanded us all to take more food, we’d sit there in food comas while she brought out dessert – ice cream with cake or maní or dulce de fruta bomba.

On Sundays, Angelita and Silvino would get all dolled up, Angelita in a yellow dress and Silvino in a button-down, to head to church. They’d call us the damas of the casa in their absence, and warn us to make sure we locked up if we went out. They are honestly one of the cutest old couples I have had the privilege of meeting.

I will miss their constant attentiveness, concern, and love for us. All three of them made sure that we knew that if we had any problem, they would help. And they did.

Driving in Máquinas. Getting a collective taxi could take us seconds, other times 20 to 40 minutes. But all anger and frustration would be forgotten once we were inside these beautiful old 50s cars. We’d drive along the Malecón, sea air in our hair, sun blaring down, listening to reggaeton blasting. We just always felt so nostalgic and lucky in those instances.

Walking to school. Every morning, we got to watch Vedado waking up. Workers hailing buses and máquinas, moms and dads dragging their kids to school, windows and doors opening, and cafeterías cooking up their breakfast foods. The perfect way to start the day: people watching and conversing in Spanish for 20 minutes on our way to class.

Playas del Este. On average, we went to the beach once a week. We’d leave at 10:30am, get to the bus by 11, then the Santa Maria beaches around 11:30. There, we’d lounge, swim in the crystal-clear blue water, take long walks, and read. At some point every day, our tamale guy would make his rounds and we’d barter and mess around with him. It was almost always the same experience every time, but it was perfect.

Cuban Behaviors

If it’s not already obvious, this post tends to repeat some things mentioned in previous ones. But here’s a list of some of the reasons I adore Cubans.

Monochromatic outfits. Blue matches blue. Red matches red. Pink matches pink. So why not just wear all the same color every day?

Indifference. Cubans will walk down the street loudly playing music off their phones. They’ll wear clothing that is obscenely tight. They’ll deny you a máquina ride even if their car is completely empty. They refer to people as the fatty, the skinny girl, the Chinese guy, the black woman. They’ll tell you you’re getting fat or have acne or that your outfit doesn’t suit you. Their confidence in themselves and indifference towards others’ opinions/reactions is hilarious and though at times tactless, admirable.

Cakes. I don’t know why, but it wasn’t uncommon for me to see Cubans carrying large cakes in their hands down the street – uncovered, no box, just balanced precariously on a square of cardboard. Cubans also often get personal pizzas and just fold them in half the way you would a sandwich. Comical sights.

Greetings. I’ll miss being asked everyday “¿Cómo andas?” and being given a hug and a kiss on one cheek by all I meet.

Friendliness. It’s hard to think of one particular instance, but Cubans are so willing to help you with whatever you need. Ask, and you will be happily helped. You just have to show you can speak Spanish reasonably well.

Love of dancing. No matter where you go out, you will find Cubans dancing. They love to dance, they’re excellent at it, and they’re so fun to learn from.

Music. Whether it’s reggaeton, charanga, salsa, rumba, son, danzón, or nueva trova (to name a few of the 27 distinct Cuban musical rhythms), there is music playing everywhere in Cuba, all so passionate and fun. I’ll miss watching and chatting with Cuban musicians, as I learned so much from them about this cultural phenomenon.

Energy. Mornings, especially weekend mornings, are slow for Cubans. But once they’re up, they’re up. At 2:00am, you’re just as likely to see an 18-year-old Cuban as an 80-year-old Cuban up and out on their stoop, just chatting.

Resolver. Life in Cuba is hard. It consists of lots of waiting on lines, searching for things that are never found, and things breaking down. But Cubans understand that it’ll all work out – they may complain, but they’re patient. And I’ve found that they’re right. Everything does work itself out, if not today, eventually.

Conclusion

After going through all of these lists, I know it seems like I’m giving Cuba a glowing review. And I am, to an extent. But as I said, living in Cuba is a challenge. I only did it for two months; had I stayed for the full semester, perhaps I would’ve burnt out and not been able to appreciate all of the opportunities I had as much. Still, I made a list, which I’ve kept to myself, of all the negative aspects of my life there. That way, I don’t get consumed with rosy retrospection and only look back at Cuba with fondness. I want there to still be a balance.

Nevertheless, I feel so empowered after this experience. I told myself that I better not come back to the states saying grandiose things such as “I’ve been completely reborn!” but I know I’ve changed, at least a little. Being around Cubans has made me realize I don’t need to care about what I wear, how I look, how I act, or what I say. There are boundaries for all of those, of course, but I feel much freer to do things that are spontaneous, daring, and downright ridiculous.

In terms of my Spanish, I’d like to say I’m functionally fluent. As mentioned, Cuban Spanish is quite possibly the hardest there is – so fast, so slurred, so absurd in instances that it can be impossible to understand. But I can always at least get the gist, if not all, of what Cubans say to me, I can converse in a relaxed fashion, I’ve dreamt in Spanish, and I think in Spanish. Lately, when I’m talking in English, I’ve even accidently said a Spanish word instead of the English one, because that’s what first came to mind. Am I perfect? Of course not. The ease and complexity of my Spanish can fluctuate even from one conversation to the next. But I know I’ll only get better and it will only get easier as I keep traveling to Spanish-speaking countries. And after struggling with Cuban Spanish, I definitely want to push my limits.

Finally, I’ve gained some serious perspective by living in Cuba. That’s not to say that my life in Cuba was not quite privileged. I got to stay in luxurious accommodations for the country, travel and eat for unheard of prices in the US, lounge on the beach, go out to rooftop bars, etc. But that’s not what typical life is for Cubans – life is earning $24 dollars a month. It’s living off rations, it’s searching for resources constantly, it’s trying to adapt to an increasingly modern world of credit cards and internet while there are three generations of families living in century-old houses, driving cars from as early as the 30s. It’s being almost absurdly proud of the free health care and educational systems despite their flaws, it’s showing constant patriotism, and it’s generally projecting a view that you might not believe in, but must. But despite all of that, Cubans are happy; they support each other, they love each other, and they never give up. And that’s something I will always remember no matter where life takes me. When life knocks you down or pushes your limits, you just have to take a deep breath and know you’ll resolve things in time.

Cuba

• March 10, 2017
• 7 years

Culture Shock

I’ve entitled this post “Culture Shock” because I’m just going to dump a bunch of information on some of the remaining aspects of Cuban culture, which could easily each have separate posts. Here goes.

Cigars

Everyone told me that I had to buy Cuban cigars while I’m here. Everyone. As if I hadn’t heard all of the hype surrounding them – of course I was going to buy cigars. The question was: where to start? How do I know what’s fake versus real? I still don’t really have an answer. Here’s what I do know:

Cigars here aren’t called “cigarros” – far too Spanglish. They’re “puros.” We visited a puro factory early on, and what we found was a good old-fashioned workshop. Cigar rollers were seated at rows and rows of desks, all rolling different types of cigars. (A fun fact: while they work, someone at the front of the room reads international news to keep them entertained, since they work for eight hours straight). Cigars vary based on the smell, combustibility, and strength of their tobacco leaves. After that, they vary in width, length, and shape (some are pointed at the ends).  The most popular brand of cigars here is Cohiba, but there’s a plethora of options. You can buy these brands for high prices in hotel shops, but you can also buy them in the street. Since I don’t know nearly enough about the difference between fake and real cigars, I wasn’t going down that road. In the end, I bought cigars from Raul Reyes, the farmer with the shack for rockclimbers. Maybe it was just that I trusted this old Cuban climbing fan and wanted to give him some business, but I figured if I could literally see his tobacco plantation just steps away from his shack, these puros had to be real. Raul demonstrated to my roommate, Evyn, the proper technique for smoking them: hack off the end of the puro with a machete, dip the end of it in honey, light the puro, and smoke away. Pretty nifty. Since being here, I’ve only smoked a couple cigars, though not in full. I will admit that it could be a very fun, but expensive, hobby – it doesn’t surprise me that most Cubans stick to cigarettes.

Rum

It’s undeniable: drinking is a large part of Cuban culture, and rum is the driving force. I have searched, and there are literally only three beers here: Cristal, Presidente, and Bucanero (lightest to darkest, and in my opinion, worst to best taste). If you find wine, it’s not Cuban; it’s imported from Spain or elsewhere. Hard alcohol is where the drinking scene lies – mostly in the iconic rum brand, Havana Club, but also a bit in Santiago de Cuba. Anywhere you go, Cuba Libres and mojitos abound. Cuba Libres are the national drink, consisting of Havana Club, refresco nacional “Tu Kola” (the Cuban version of Coca Cola), and lime. Other specialties include the canchánchera, the drink belonging to the province of Trinidad, which is honey, lemon juice, Havana Club, and club soda, and Habana Especial, which is pineapple juice, honey, and rum, sometimes with coconut. Last but not least, piña coladas are very common due to all the beaches, and daiquiris have been popularized through the stories of Hemingway’s time in Cuba. Apparently he drank 15 daiquiris followed by 15 mojitos every day. How he survived, we do not know.

The main takeaway on drinks in Cuba: whatever you drink, it will be STRONG. Cubans do not mess around with their alcohol. To put it in perspective, you often see old Cuban men walking around drinking from these cute little white juice boxes. That’s not juice in that cajita – that’s straight rum.

Art

I am no art expert so I will be brief on this topic. Art is everywhere in Cuba. Graphic design, painting, sculpture, photography – you name it – is hiding around every street corner. You can visit official galleries and museums for good art, such as el Museo de Bellas Artes, but you can find equally compelling, unique art on the streets. Even better, you can actually talk to the artists and make friends with them. Sure, in the tourist shops, there are tons of generic paintings of old-fashioned cars, Che Guevara, Fidel, etc., but there’s plenty more clever, varied, and unique work just next door. You just have to hold out for it.

Theater

While there is not a huge presence of live theater in Cuba, the movie scene is very prevalent. Just two streets down from where we live are several theaters – one named after Cuba’s most famous movie, “Fresa y Chocolate,” another dedicated to Charlie Chaplin. “Fresa y Chocolate” is a movie about two young guys, one homosexual and one heterosexual, who form an unlikely friendship as they both learn what it means to be gay in Cuba, post-revolution. Meanwhile, Charlie Chaplin is just generally popular here. For homework one day, we had to interview Cubans about their favorite movies, and after “Fresa y Chocolate,” I mostly got “Vampiros en la Habana,” “Clandestino,” and “Conducta.” All of my interviewees spoke very highly of the quality of movies in Cuba considering the lack of resources, and felt very passionately that the movies spoke to the reality of life in Cuba. This last part interested me, because with so much censorship by the government, I’d think that movie directors would be limited in what they could convey.

I did watch “Vampiros en la Habana,” since I’d seen so many posters for it, and was admittedly very perplexed. It’s very popular here and praised by many Cubans, but it’s also a very strange animated film. It follows Dracula, a vampire in Spain who tries to come up with a formula that will allow vampires to survive in the sun. He tests the first version of the formula on his father, who dies immediately upon exposure to sunlight. Banished from Spain for his deed, Dracula travels to Cuba and successfully concocts a formula for his nephew Pepe, who is able to live like a human for years with no knowledge of being a vampire. Eventually, vampires in Spain catch wind of this and want to market the formula as “Vampisol” and sell it worldwide. Meanwhile, the vampire mobsters in America are desperate to destroy the formula because they’ve got a monopoly on underground beaches for vampires (if they’re able to live in the sun, the vampires can go to actual beaches). And Dracula, all this time, wants the formula to be free for all vampires. If that’s not one huge social commentary, I don’t know what is.

Music and Dance

I have been working for weeks on an independent project on Cuban music, so if I get too deep into this, my head might explode. Cuban music is, above all, a mix of different cultural influences – primarily Spanish and African influences, due to the Spanish conquistadors arriving in the 1500s and importing slaves for the sugar and tobacco plantations. Through the years, other European influences have infiltrated the music, such as French contredanse, as well as American influences such as jazz, foxtrot, Charleston, etc. Naturally, Latin American and Caribbean nations also have contributed to the music culture. What has resulted is an incredibly rich and diverse group rhythms, from the “son,” the original rhythm that makes heavy use of the claves, to rumba, a boisterous call-and-response style played on pots and pans, among other random objects. Danzón is also very prevalent, stemming from contredanse, as well as bolero, a slower, more romantic genre. After the Revolution of 1959, trova music became popular as a way to express political sentiments. The last noteworthy rhythm is guajiro/campesino, which is the style played by farmers and country folk.

Walk the streets and you will inevitably hear live music. Musicians here typically play the full gamut of Cuban rhythms, on guitar, the laud and tres (12 and 3 string guitars, respectively), claves, the marímbola (thumb piano), flute, stand-up bass, maracas, bongo and conga drums, and so on. The youth mostly listen to reggaeton, which is a mix of hip-hop, pop, and rap, while older generations tend to like the more traditional music and surprisingly, American rock. We often go to an American bar called “Submarino Amarillo,” a wonderfully inventive underground bar dedicated to the Beatles’ Yellow Submarine, where solely cover bands play. On a Saturday night, the majority of attendees are 40-50 year old Cubans, jamming to classic American rock, singing all the English lyrics. Phenomenal.

When it comes to dance, most Cuban dances are a direct result of the musical genres. Cha-cha-cha, salsa, danzón, rumba, charanga – all of them have a corresponding dance. I can’t dance for my life, but I have tried. There’s a very popular salsa club here in Vedado called “1830,” where for three dollars you can enter and have random Cuban men literally drag you onto the dancefloor and start salsa-ing with you. At times it’s too invasive, but for the most part it’s fun and comical. There’s a ridiculous number of middle-aged white women dancing with Cuban men, sloppily drunk and marveling at the grandeur of it all. If you don’t want to bear that preposterous sight or the advances of relentless Cubans, you can also find classes offered all over the city.

There you have it.

Cuba

• March 4, 2017
• 7 years

Stylin’

After my more serious last post, I’d like to move to a lighter note: Cuban style. Cubans certainly walk the walk and talk the talk in just about everything they do. Their confidence is refreshing; they wear what they want, when they want, regardless of what anyone else might think. Just being around them has made me feel more comfortable in my own skin, actually.

Women’s style is definitely the most entertaining. The women here wear absurdly tight clothing – dresses, shirts, and leggings – no matter their body type nor the sheerness of the fabric. They strut down the street with utter poker faces, never missing a beat in their high heels. In fact, the high heels might be the most impressive part of their outfits, when you consider how many sidewalks are cracked, uneven, and downright dangerous. To accentuate their outfits, many also don shiny, bold jewelry, with the usual range of hairstyles. Older women dress more conservatively, usually with simple blouses and Bermuda shorts or long, floor-length dresses.

Age affects how males dress more. Older men almost without fail wear basic black or brown loafers, jeans with a belt, and a casual button-down shirt. Younger men, however, wear clothing almost as tight as that of the women. Most sport skin-tight polos or V-necks and well-fitted jeans, with glitzy sneakers and a fancy watch on their wrist. They usually also have one or two earrings and some sort of shaved haircut. The funniest sight is the men’s athletic clothing; it’s not uncommon to see these young guys wearing athletic shorts that seem clearly meant for girls. The shorts are short, usually bright pink or some other absurd color, and leave little to the imagination.

It’s harder to describe exactly how Cuban children dress. As mentioned in another post, the kids have different school uniforms based on their age level. Primary schoolers wear white button-downs, red jumpers or shorts, and a little red bow around their necks. Middle schoolers wear white button-downs with tan skirts or shorts, and the girls also wear white knee socks. Finally, high schoolers wear light blue button-downs with navy blue skirts or pants. Despite having uniforms, the kids easily show their style through crazy sneakers or other shoes, colorful backpacks, and fun hairstyles. Middle school girls also show no hesitation in wearing a decent amount of make-up.

In addition to these age and gender differences, I’ve just noticed some general trends. Denim, or at least material that looks like denim, pervades the streets. Shirts, pants, and overalls alike have all different sorts of washes in every shade of blue. Monochromatic outfits are ridiculously common – the number of people I have seen dressed in all red or all orange is comical. We once saw a guy dressed in all white-washed denim. Last but not least, everyone has sunglasses. This shouldn’t be even worth mentioning, since it’s a hot, sunny climate in the Caribbean, but it baffles me. Why? Because my sunglasses broke in the first three days of being here, and I have yet to find a normal replacement pair. BUT EVERYONE HAS THEM. Where do they come from? I still don’t know.

In the information guide that we read prior to arriving, Cuban style was described as “casual, but clean.” For once, the guide was actually informative. Cubans really do feel free to wear what they will, but they always are in good order. Their clothes are clean, with no rips or tears (except intentionally torn jeans), and they themselves are always well-groomed. I respect Cuban style immensely for its self-assurance and its cleanliness, but I don’t think I’ll be adopting monochromatic outfits and excessive denim any time soon.

Cuba

• February 26, 2017
• 7 years

¿Hasta la Victoria Siempre?*

Before coming to Cuba, I had a very limited understanding of the country’s political structure; I simply knew that it was a communist society that rejected United States capitalism. Little did I know that this fundamental piece of knowledge affects every aspect of life in Cuba. Enduring faith in the Revolution of 1959, coupled with a vehement clinging to “socialism,” makes for a country with as strong nationalistic tendencies as that of the US and an utter denial of any problems that the people encounter daily.

As mentioned in a previous post, there is no advertising in Cuba. Instead, no matter where you go, you’ll see propaganda praising the Revolution, Fidel, or Martí, or denouncing the US embargo. The most common phrases are “Hasta la Victoria Siempre,” “Viva la Revolución,” “Yo Soy Fidel,” and “Bloqueo: El genocidio más largo de la historia.” The last one is especially strong. Not only do these phrases pervade every street corner, they pervade the news. Nearly daily, the front story of the main newspapers, La Granma (named after the boat that revolutionaries Che Guevara and Fidel and Raúl Castro used in their attempts to overthrow the Batista regimen) and La Juventud Rebelde, talks of something related to the legacy of the Revolution, Fidel, or Martí. The same goes for news on television. However, as quick as Cubans are to criticize the US in conversation, they do not do so directly in their news sources. Any articles reporting happenings in the US are very objective, except when they report other countries harshly criticizing the US. The Cuban papers themselves do not take a stance.

Due to the prevalence of so much propaganda, it’s not surprising that Cubans are unwilling to discuss any challenges or failures that have arisen since the Revolution. In some respects, having a socialist society has been incredibly beneficial for Cubans. Education is free and guaranteed up to age fourteen; health care is advanced, specialized, and free as well; rent and bulk foods are highly subsidized. Then again, there are cracks in all of these systems.

In terms of education, everything is regulated by the government. Yes, it’s fantastic that Cubans, regardless of province or wealth, all receive the exact same education, learn the exact same curriculum, and take the exact same tests. But there is no open discussion. There’s no room for debate, nor room to discuss topics, opinions, or perspectives that stray from that of the government. Moreover, after the guaranteed years of schooling, students go on to pre-University and University, which they must repay through 3 years of social service. And getting into University is no breeze – the highest marks are required, and even then there is a waiting period.

In terms of the health care system, there are also drawbacks. Health care is split into primary, secondary, and tertiary levels. There are family doctors that live in neighborhoods as primary care providers, followed by polyclinics. If you can’t find a doctor with the right specialization in the clinic, you’re referred to a secondary provider that can get to the heart of your problem. All of the divisions are overseen by the tertiary level, the Ministry of Public Health. This all sounds very nice and organized, especially when you consider how many specialists are found in the country – doctors not only work in every health field imaginable, but they also are found in drug rehabilitation and psychiatric centers, domestic violence support centers, maternal health care centers, etc. The issue: as much as the system proclaims itself to be equal for all, it all depends on your neighborhood. Some neighborhoods don’t have a known family doctor; some have clinics with very few resources. Without these two aspects of primary health care, receiving secondary health care becomes very difficult. On top of this, doctors are paid very little by the government; you can earn much, much more as a taxi driver, tricking tourists into paying exorbitant fees. One doctor we met was willing to concede that there are problems. It was refreshing to hear a Cuban actually admit to a desafío in the country, even if it was “The system isn’t perfect, but it can be perfected.” The main takeaway is, though very diverse and attentive, the health care system is not as accessible as it professes to be.

Basic needs such as housing and food are provided under the socialist regime, but there are even problems there. The government rations food based on each family’s size and needs, but the rations are not sufficient. In addition, people here never “comprar,” or buy food, they must “buscar,” or look for food. Our host mother blames the field workers and restaurants for the struggle. The farmers, she says, do an insufficient job, and the restaurants buy up all of the good food, such as cheese. The latter might be true, but the workers are simply not cultivating enough food because of the government. With a fixed salary, they have no incentive to work longer and harder to cultivate more food. As for housing, it’s virtually guaranteed – there are really no homeless people here – but it comes at a cost. There aren’t enough houses. Three generations of Cubans often have to share single floors of homes, and buying a house is nearly impossible. It’s no wonder that so many Cubans leave the country once they’ve finished their education; as a young Cuban, you can’t gain much independence if you’re still living with your parents and grandparents. This emigration then exacerbates another problem. 20-30% of the Cuban population is age 60 or older and population growth has nearly stopped in the last four years.

Despite all of these problems, Cubans will very rarely admit to any issues. If you try to pry them with questions, whether carefully phrased or not, they’ll either change the subject, blame someone else or some other country, or continue with all the positive aspects of the topic. There is only one political party here, and contradicting it in any way is dangerous. (Ironically, the government claims itself to be a democracy – yes, you’re free to vote for anyone, but the candidates all represent the exact same values.) The party knows who goes out and votes; furthermore, there is suspicion of secret police still crawling around the streets, listening in on conversations.

Initially, I was uncertain about my view of socialism, since all I was hearing was its successful implementation in Cuba. Yet after a month, I’ve seen and heard its flaws, and am no longer so sure. That’s not to say that I’m so proud of how the US is run and that I think its political system is wholly better. In fact, that’s where my frustration lies. We Americans are so willing to criticize our government and debate issues, and Cubans are willing to as well – but not when it comes to their own country. Thus, it’s basically useless trying to have a discussion on politics with Cubans, when both sides can openly denounce the US, but never Cuba. I hope that in my last few weeks here, I can come closer to some meaningful discourse, but after so much struggle, I won’t expect it.

*If I’ve gotten some facts wrong here about different aspects of Cuba’s government, I apologize; I’m only going off of information I’ve taken from conversation, not various books or internet sources. I may have misunderstood or mixed up some components.