Every time the students thought they had Cuba figured out, they’d see or experience another confusing contradiction.
Tourism has become the island’s economic engine with more than two million foreign tourists a year, so tens of thousands of government workers spend their lives catering to tourists. But government jobs pay the equivalent of US $15 a month.
There are two currencies to deal with: Cubans are paid in Cuban pesos, which are worth about a nickel. Tourists use the Convertible peso (CUC), which is worth $1.15.
So while Cubans are passionate about the Castro brothers, socialism, and their simple way of life, most have side jobs and work in the underground economy. A decent day on the streets giving tours, serving drinks, or entertaining foreigners can produce as much or more income than a government job.
Lighting Up — During our first evening in Havana, our Cuban guide, William Burrowes, gathered the class around tables in the bar of the Hotel Plaza and led a seminar on Cuba’s cultural connection to cigars. He explained what made Cuban cigars like Cohiba the best in the world.
As he spoke, he pulled out a Cohiba Robustos cigar, aged three years in cedar, and taught the students how to light a cigar properly. Once he had it stoked and was showing the guys how to smoke, I lit the next one, took a few puffs, and passed it around.
Did we introduce 14 Wabash students to a bad habit? No. They got a valuable lesson about the social significance of cigar smoking by the Cuban people and the economic impact—both formal and underground—of the industry. “A guy who works in a cigar factory for $15 a month can smuggle out a handful of cigars that he can sell on the streets to tourists for $15 apiece,” William said.
Partying with the CDR —We drove 45 minutes through scores of blacked-out neighborhoods to the outskirts of Havana for a meeting with a leader of the Committee for the Defense of the Revolution (CDR). We were expecting a state-sponsored lecture on the advantages of socialism. Instead we arrived at brightly lit streets lined with hundreds of people who had come out to greet us.
The CDR commander read a formal proclamation ending with shouts of “Viva Fidel! Viva Raul! Viva Cuba!” Then we were treated to a rollicking block party featuring children’s dance groups. The kids smiled as they shared their national tradition of music and dancing, and their proud parents tried to squeeze in to take photos as their children performed in front of American college students.
As we left, we felt compelled to shake every young person’s hand and give hugs and kisses to all of the women involved in the event. It was a beautiful and unusual moment.
But as we started back to the hotel, we realized it was also a carefully choreographed show designed to convince us that the CDR’s role is to safeguard culture and tradition—not to serve as neighborhood watchdogs for the party.
Living History — All of us were excited to see the Museum of the Revolution, a spectacular tribute to the revolutionary leaders of Cuba’s history, especially Castro. The building’s three floors include Fidel’s guns and uniforms from the Revolution period, as well as photographs of the rebels. Somewhat out of place was a “living
history exhibit” featuring Che Guevara hiking through an artificial jungle. I had an odd flashback to a scene from the original Planet of the Apes movie.
Then William gleefully led us to the main exhibit on the first floor, which featured cartoon images of Ronald Reagan and both Bush presidents with a caption that read, “Thanks you cretin for helped us TO STRENGTHEN THE REVOLUTION.” [sic]
A Sanitary Immersion — At the Cuban Institute of Friendship with the Peoples (ICAP), we heard from Leima Martinez about Cuba’s efforts to develop people-to-people relationship building.
“We have 500 years of male-centered society here in Cuba and it’s very hard to change minds,” Leima said. “This institute and its promoters are in the business of changing minds, one person at a time…Young people are driving change in Cuba.”
Students quizzed her on a range of topics. They were realizing that their trip to Cuba had been carefully planned to show only what the government wanted the Americans to see. It was, in a word, a sanitary immersion.
Public Art — On our last day in Havana we were bused to Callejón de Hamel, an alley of funky public art developed over 25 years by artist and muralist Salvador Escalona, whom we met. From crude sculptures to elaborate paintings, no vertical surface was without colorful art that grew from the Afro-Cuban religious tradition.
But we had very little time to take in the art, as our group was quickly seated and costumed women came out to perform a series of songs and dances. The speed of the drumbeats (and dancing feet) was mesmerizing. Afterward the performers begged for tips and urged the guys to buy CDs.
History Locked Away — Alejandro, a worker at the Hotel Riviera, took a few of us to the back of the hotel so that we could explore a bit. The hotel was started by mafia boss Meyer Lansky and visited by my favorite singer, Frank Sinatra, so I wanted to see some of the floors that haven’t been used by Castro’s government.
We soon discovered that not only did the elevator not send guests to the first 10 floors, but the stairwell entrances to those floors had been padlocked shut. Those floors have been locked away, keeping their history within them.
Alejandro spent the rest of the night telling us the history of the hotel and showing us where the mafia’s casino was. We could still see the original carpet and furniture from 1958.—Adam Alexander ’16