Cuba (with footage!)
A week’s experiences with logistical tips
Sunday, January 7, 2018: Arrival
I land in Havana at noon. I wait for Lindsy’s delayed flight for a few hours, reading articles I had already downloaded to my e-reader. (Cuba has extremely limited WiFi.) I learn about Cuba’s historical and modern-day racism, which sounds remarkably similar to that of the US. Broadly, they went through colonialism and slavery, and then their own version of Jim Crow while run by the US-backed right-wing military dictator Batista (not to be confused with Mexico’s Zapatistas, who are Leftists).
Overthrowing their “Jim Crow” was one of the goals, and successes, of Fidel Castro, the 1959 revolution, and the 26th of July movement. Alas, the impression I have, given my admittedly superficial understanding, is that it seems Castro and the Cuban government thought that overthrowing state-sanctioned segregation rendered the search for racial justice complete. So while Castro set up initiatives to continue the work toward class and gender justice, less was done about race and sexuality. Partly (again, my caveat of not being very studied in this), it seems this stems from the movement leadership having representative poor folk and women in their ranks, while fewer were Black or openly queer.
Lindsy arrives at the airport, and we exchange our money. Probably the biggest issue in traveling to Cuba, as US Americans, is that Cuba does not honor our banks or debit/credit cards. This, combined with Cuba’s limited Wifi, means anything we want to book online, we book in advance (though Hola may help with this). This is why we booked the first half of the trip beforehand. This also means we need to bring all the cash we might need for the trip.
As is standard, the kiosks charge a percentage for exchanging currencies, but the Cuban government also adds an extra surcharge to exchanging US dollars. This has produced an online subculture of algorithms to determine which currency to exchange to first, if it even makes sense to pay the standard exchange fee twice based on market fluctuations. This is the kind of headache I prefer to avoid, but Lindsy tries to figure it out… to little avail.
We take a taxi to our pre-booked AirBNB. He shows us to his son’s restaurant. We realize we luck out on location, as we are just between Vedado (the hip area), and Old Havana (the historical/touristy area). We walk the Malecón, the seawall separating one of the main drags in Havana from the ocean. We nap. We go over our schedule.
Our visa, “Support for the Cuban People,” is the most flexible in terms of allowing us what to do. We are to spend 6 hours every non-travel weekday engaging in activities that count as “supporting” Cuban folk. This includes museums and educational tours, though some museums do not count, and the US government prohibits patronizing any establishments that fund the Cuban military, which includes their biggest hotel. (We prefer AirBNB or hostels anyway.) We are required to keep a log of the trip for five years, in case we are audited. But there is plenty to keep us occupied.
Monday: Sociopolitical Background
We begin our first full day in Cuba with a history walk of Havana from David Jesús, an economics professor. He tells us about some of Cuba’s economic history and current situation, as it allows for more private business post-Fidel. It is moving from a 90/10 socialized/privatized ratio to 80/20, he estimates. We discuss Cuba’s successes, which include healthcare (many countries will import doctors and nurses from Cuba; many foreigners come to Cuba for their healthcare) and education (Cuba’s is among the highest literacy rate in the world). We also discuss its troubles, which include US imperialism, sanctions, poverty, and racism. David walks us by places where some people collect food rations, through Plaza Vieja, and eventually the local, organic Creperie Oasis Nelva for lunch. Good food and drinks, good atmosphere.
One thing about Cuba is that businesses must pay taxes for signs, so a lot of places are better found or known by their street address. The lack of signs, combined with everyone keeping their doors open because of the safety and heat, means that a few times I popped my head into a shop to see what was there, only to find I was peeping in on a family cooking dinner. No one seemed particularly bothered by this.
Lindsy and I walk through Parque Central, surrounded by fancy hotels, and try for some WiFi cards, which go for varying rates. I learn that the Google map I downloaded of Cuba, back in the US, did not actually download correctly. I have a hard time downloading a Google map in Cuba, so we try a few apps specifically designed to act as a map of Cuba. These work pretty well. (Tip for Google Map: Download as zoomed in as you can. This takes more maps and more time, but trying to download all of Cuba in one map will not get any detail at all.)
We check out the Museo de la Revolución. And this — is awesome. The museum covers life under Batista, during which 70% of (fertile) land was owned by foreigners, many of them US Americans. It features uniform, gear, and equipment used by the 26th of July revolutionaries, including Che Guevara.
There are also farm tractors that were modded into tanks, still with bullet holes, and a US spy plane that was gunned down in 1961. The Cuban government kept the body of the pilot until the US government finally admitted he was working for them and formally requested the body in 1979. But the plane is still there.
Afterward, we walk the Malecón again, a lovely walk. We encounter street musicians, who serenade us with Guantanamera and La Bamba. I know they are seen as cliché, but I sincerely love the songs, which have a lot of genuine history. La Bamba is a Mexican folk song turned into rock & roll by Mexican American singer Ritchie Valens. Guantanamera is actually a poem, also adapted into a song, serenading a working woman from Guantánamo (yes, like the bay). It is written by Cuba’s favorite writer and revolutionary José Martí. Their airport is named after him. Pete Seeger explains:
We make it to the restaurant WAOO (pronounced “Wow”), as recommended by Lonely Planet. It is fantastic. Finally, we make it back home for the night, and go over some Spanish. Perro means dog; gato cat. These are important to say when pointing out a stray.
Tuesday: Salsa, Economics, & Friends
Tuesday morning, we meet dance instructors for our introduction to Cuban Salsa. We learn a few moves, and every time we get something right, they shout Eso! (That’s it!) This helps us feel like we are learning. At the end, they give us a performance.
At el Capitolio, the Capitol, we tour the rooms and decor of the Cuban government before the revolution. They even show us areas where Batista tried to escape. There is also plenty of José Martí imagery here. From here, we explore Chinatown. Lindsy continuously remarks how safe she feels walking through Cuba than the other countries and cities she has visited, including those in the US. We make it to Parque el Quijote (named after Don Quixote, with a statue in the park) for our second walking tour guided by a Marxist economist. Jorge and his sister Beatriz greet us. This tour, we particularly appreciate.
Jorge introduces us to different neighborhoods and shopkeepers, including Guanabacoa, an Afro-Cuban neighborhood where Santería is popular. We visit a Ceíba tree, native to Africa, where people make offerings and sacrifices, which include a chicken, their body lying in a plastic bag at the foot of the tree.
We meet a woman who sells various Santería items, and explains the colors and which Catholic saints correspond to which Santería gods. (Under Batista, Santería was not allowed, so they worshipped and prayed in code.) I particularly appreciate learning about this, and one regret of the trip for me is that we do not make it to the Afro-Cuban Culture Guide tour.
Jorge shows us how to use the public transit system, and also explains the Cuban black market, which has everything from mattresses and construction supplies to paquetes, or flash drives. Because of Cuba’s limited WiFi, and the sanctions against US culture, they buy small hard drives of the things they want. This is how they watch all the shows we know, and also reminds me of the Tim & Eric bit. They also love hot dogs, hamburgers, and pizza, despite the US tension.
We pass a sign that reads, “Presidente del CDR” and Jorge explains that they are the Committee for the Defense of the Revolution, spies who report counter-revolutionary activity. I ask why they have a sign if they are spies, and Jorge says, “They are not very good spies.” It is also on this tour that we learn that everyone in Cuba is mandated to serve as a reserve military member, and should anything go down, each citizen has the location of a cache of weaponry and place to report to.
During the tour, we ask Jorge about race and racism in Cuba. He tells us about the struggle for racial justice, and offers to connect us to a journalist who reports on race in Cuba. Meanwhile, we are bonding, and he tells us about his parents, who run an organic farm in the mountains. We tell him we are scheduled to visit an organic farm in the mountains — It turns out to be his family’s.
Jorge and Beatriz decide to bring us back to their grandma’s home. We are getting along well. His grandma was alive before the revolution, and tells us about what she remembers. They offer sips of Cuban rum and crackers with a favorite dip. Lindsy swears the dip is what they use on Big Macs. I think it is a variant of Russian dressing. Makes sense. This is a lovely visit.
Lindsy and I walk the town again, visiting a park. We stop at Coppelia, a place for gelato. It has no vegan options, but the park is nice. Lindsy tries some ice cream. Though I have not seen it, the movie Fresa y Chocolate apparently features a scene in this park, at this gelatería. It is clearly a popular movie here, with posters and references throughout the neighborhood, and a cinema named after it. We head home for an early morning…
Wednesday: Magical Mountains, Ecology
We wake at 530 AM to go to Plaza de Armas, where we are meeting Joel, our tour guide for exploring “Magical Mountain Trails.” The night before, Lindsy and I discussed what counts as making an experience magical, and the difference between genuine magic and Disney-fying something. This experience becomes the highlight of the trip. You could honestly fly to Cuba for this one trip and feel fulfilled. And in telling your friends, they would never guess it was only one day.
On the drive, Joel tells us he studies climate for the Cuban government. Cuba believes the climate crisis is real (revolutionary!). We arrive at the home of Joel’s coworker/mentor/friend Noel, in the Rosario mountains. We do a short walk in the area through a more accessible cave, where they explain some aspects of the local ecology and formations. We find some remarkable creatures.
We begin the longer hike, through the trails of the mountain forest. The views are miraculous. I test my LifeStraw in the river. We climb up some waterfall rocks, and rappel/jump down. They teach us about the water cycle. It gives us life.
Eventually, we reach the mouth of the large cave, which we have to swim inside. Wading into the water, Joel guides us through the dark with his headlamp. Bats overhead, and the sound of running water all around, Joel points out more formations. At some point, he tells us all to find a wall to hang onto or get comfortable wading in place. He turns off his headlamp, and we spend some moments in the darkness. The push-pull of vitalization from jumping down a waterfall into the restorative calm of darkened water: magical. And then, to top it all off, we swim to the waterfall in the cave.
That night, we have dinner with Joel and Noel. The food is freshly grown on Noel’s property, and delicious. They tell us about their work. Noel teaches students, and often hosts them on site in their research. They tell us about the native history. Cuba was populated by the Arhuacos (also Aruacos or Arawakans), whom colonizers called taínos.
While the rest of the group taxis back to Havana, Joel drops us off in Las Terrazas, an eco-village and biosphere reserve. We thought to stay at Hotel Moka, but Joel insists it is too expensive, and suggests a homestay, which Lindsy and I tend to prefer anyway. He calls up a friend who soon arrives on a vespa. Lindsy and I have all our luggage with us, and Joel’s friend takes us one by one. I go first, riding pillion, holding both our luggage and the driver’s midsection. After driving through mountain roads and tree-lined scenery, he drops me off at his home, where I talk with his family while he drives back for Lindsy. I am a little concerned about her experience of this, but she arrives laughing. We sleep well that night.
Thursday: Las Terrazas, Eco-Tour, and AntiRacism
The next morning, I wake excited for our tours of the village, reserve, and Cuba’s one vegan restaurant, Romero. Lindsy is not a morning person however, and her unreserved contempt for stimuli tends to come out in humor. When the neighborhood rooster lets out a “Err, err err, err eghurh,” she grumbles, “This rooster can’t even crow right.” This is love.
We have breakfast with our host family, who are sweet to us. We notice a purple statue of one of the saints we learned about at the santería shop. We walk up and down the street, and meet some of the dogs. We pet them. This is love.
There is some confusion over the tour we are supposed to go on, but our host family knows the guide, so he comes to meet us at the house. The guide Yoel (not to be confused with Joel or Noel), walks us through some of the local trails. He shows us the national bird of Cuba, the tocororo, or Cuban trogon, which has the colors of the Cuban flag, and a plant that curls up when we touch it. We visit an art gallery where the artist uses recycled materials. He has postcards and notebooks of the tocororo, of Che, and much more.
This tour, however, our guide seemed much less engaged, and less interested in teaching us ecology, offering us only a few plant/animal names, more like he is just bringing us places. He also interrupted Lindsy a lot, which he did not do to me. The highlight of the tour is definitely when we visit the organic farm, run by Jorge and Beatriz’s family, the guides of Havana from Tuesday.
This is pretty standard by now, but the freshly grown yucca and other veggies really are delicious. We talk to Jorge and Beatriz’s parents about their family. They are hosting guests from Britain, and we talk to them about their experiences. Lindsy and I are super jealous that they are staying with them. We walk around the farm. We buy some coffee and cigars for friends and family back home. Lindsy falls in love with their mother’s smile. It feels like family.
We consider staying in Las Terrazas another day, and ask Yoel what there is to do. He suggests a visiting a coffee plantation. We later learn this was supposed to be part of the tour, and Yoel ended things early. I am particularly bothered by this.
We end our time in Las Terrazas finally eating at Romero, the one vegan restaurant in Cuba. It is fantastic. We try a few dishes, drinks, and desserts, determining that we will leave for Havana that night to meet the antiracist organizers whom Jorge connected us to. After dropping our stuff off at another homestay (this is tricky to confirm without use of AirBNB), we meet Juan Antonio Madrazo Luna, or Madrazo. Jorge calls him a famous dissident in Cuba.
Unsure of what it means to be meeting a famous dissident in Cuba, we are a little nervous. But meeting Madrazo and his friends at their home was nice. At first, Madrazo pretends to try to speak slowly and with pauses to allow his friend to translate for me and especially Lindsy, but this soon gives way to his desire to talk. Lindsy and his female friend end up having their own conversation, in which they rightfully bring up men’s talking as a way to take up space. As is common for me, my ability to speak well gives the impression that I understand far more than I do. Though I miss the majority of what they say, we do manage to communicate overall concepts of race, music/hip-hop, and organizing. They are interested in the work of YEA Camp.
Lindsy and I take a break from over-stimulation in Spanish, and grab dinner at Topoly, another excellent Lonely Planet recommendation. It is nice to unwind. On the taxi ride home, however, the car hits the back legs of a cat running across the street. Before we can think of what we could do in a foreign, Spanish-speaking country, we are already far past the site. This seems to affect Lindsy more, who saw it better, and reminds me of when we first wandered New York, and watched a bus kill a sick rat. We get some much needed rest.
Friday: Walk & Sick Day
One thing we did not have well planned was the beach. I figured (Lindsy preferred I do the planning) we could see the beach after getting better acquainted with the country overall, better appreciate its history, environment, and the opportunity to rest. But a chilly rain pours today, and it remains somewhat chilly the rest of the trip. So we spend the morning reading on the roof of our hostel, eating bread (both of us) and drinking mango juice (just me — Lindsy is allergic) for breakfast.
Lindsy is also starting to get sick, as she usually does while traveling, but does not want to stay in bed/hostel all day. We visit Aniplant, the nonprofit in Cuba dedicated to protecting animals and plants. (Cuba’s national nonprofits are overseen by the government, so they are more consolidated / less redundant.) Communication was tricky, so this is a surprise visit. The director, Nora, tells us to stop by tomorrow for a more full tour.
Around the block, we stumble upon a corner where numerous stray cats have made their home. We say hello. We walk Malecón again, but this time the street is closed because the storm is sending waves whose crashes splash well over the seawall. Pretty wild to see.
We walk through downtown shops, and make some tourist purchases for art and such. There are some really lovely pieces, and lots to explore, but at this point it is cold, and Lindsy is tired. We head back to the hostel, where I find a tick on my side. Hard to say where from, but I take a photo to identify them later. While Lindsy sleeps, I go for a walk through the park nearby.
Saturday: Aniplant Tour, Beach, Queer Havana
We start off the day visiting Aniplant. We meet so many dogs, most very excited to meet us. Some are nervous. We love them all, and give plenty of pets to anyone who wants them. Nora tells us about the org, which takes in animals from all over the country, and adopts them out all over the world. She also tells us that cats, and dogs, hit by cars is a serious issue in Havana. We discuss veganism, which is still very limited in Cuba, though the food has not disappointed us. They even let us into the surgery room while they perform a spay/neuter.
At the Santa Maria Beach, we try to relax though it is still a bit chilly and overcast. Check the weather when planning your trip. We drink rum out of coconuts, my first drink in a year or so. Special occasion.
After a restorative nap, and another dinner at WAOO, we attend Into Queer Havana, a walking tour of Cuba’s history with gender and sexuality. We learn that many in Spanish use the ending “-es” in place of “-as” or “-os” to render nouns and adjectives gender-neutral.
We also learn about Cuba’s UMAP program, what we in the US commonly think of as the labor camps for gay folk. While the truth is more complicated, they are also admittedly not enclaves of justice. The program was offered as an alternative to mandated military service. Among groups like conscientious objectors, the queer community opted for this in particular, partly because of the military’s extreme homophobia. At one point, Fidel entered himself into a labor camp, disguised, to investigate its conditions. He learned for himself the intolerant conditions, and eventually shut them down.
We stop by different public places and bars that have some relationship to the LGBT community, including where Cuba’s Pride Parade marches. Our guide, Susana, worked as an organizer and also for CENESEX, the National Center for Sexual Education. This is one of the safest places in Cuba to work as someone outside the hetero-norm. At the end of the night, we visit a gay club, and meet with one of the drag performers, who also works at CENESEX. She talks to us while getting ready for her performance, using some of the products our fellow tour guests brought to donate. She tells us about her work at CENESEX and as a performer, which includes using a bathroom as a cramped changing room to talk to Susana’s tour guests. It is a great tour, and Susana is a fun guide. We watch the show. I put some money in her dress. Then, we dance.
Sunday: Exploration , History, & Music
For brunch, on our last full day, we eat at what is supposedly the fanciest restaurant in Cuba, La Guarida. Again, the food is delicious, and even more, the restaurant is in a big open building with plenty to explore. We climb up and down the stairs, and marvel at the view from the roof.
Our last bits of exploring the city take us through the Callejón de Hamel, the Hamel Block, recommended to us by Madrazo and our antiracist organizer friends. The block celebrates Afro-Cuban culture with visual art, but every week they also have music and dance. A big drum circle, the space is lively, and the percussive music energizing.
On our walk from here, we stop for bread. I will let Lindsy describe her experience of double-fisting two bread items:
On the Cuba map app, we see something labeled the Nuclear Missile Crisis Gallery. We try to find it, but get confused about where to go. It turns out to be located inside the National Hotel, which the US prohibits us from staying at or patronizing. However, it is an attraction, and we can still visit it. We look at the photographs of all the celebrities who have stayed there, and find the gallery in the “front yard,” overlooking the seawall. We realize it has been atop a waterfall that we like to visit when walking the Malecón.
For the gallery, they decorated former bunkers with photographs and plaques of info about the crisis. Considered the most precarious point of the Cold War, the Soviet Union had sent missiles to be stored in Cuba. The US, though they currently have over 95% of all foreign military bases in the world, including one on Cuba, and almost half of all nuclear weapons (Russia has almost the other half), was very upset about this. This attempt to store weapons in Cuba almost broke out into full nuclear war.
We stop at the restaurant O’Reilly 304 (the address/name), before trying to visit Fabrica del Arte, the Art Factory (a dance bar), which every person and guidebook tells us is a must. Unfortunately, none of them tell us that Fabrica is closed in January. We head back to the hostel. Lindsy is still feeling off, and wants to sleep. I tell her she can, but I would like to visit a jazz/music club. She decides to come out for our last night in Cuba, for which I am very grateful. At El Gato Tuerto, the one-eyed cat, we listen to some music I am really impressed with. I wonder how musicians and other artists distribute their work in Cuba.
Monday, January 15: Fuster & Leaving
Our final morning in Cuba, we taxi to Fusterlandia, a neighborhood decorated by José Rodríguez Fuster, known as the Picasso of the Carribean. At its center is a kind of house/park completely decked out in mosaic tiles of all kinds of designs, and the decorations are still expanding. We explore everywhere, and take plenty of photos. They even have a turtle who eats bananas.
Our taxi driver to the airport takes the last of our Cuban currency, and a bit of our US dollars. We rest on the flight, debriefing the trip. Everything we learned, everything we did. All our photos. We learned about imperialism, class, race, gender, animals, and the environment. We explored museums, the city, caves, and waterfalls. We adventured, and we lay on the beach. It was a very full trip. One of my favorite ones.
Lindsy and I go through customs together in Georgia, and then we say goodbye. She heads to her flight for Syracuse, and I return to a commune called Palestine.
