CUBAN TRANSITIONS

Calle Obispo

Having the look of a Caribbean woman in Cuba made my experience very different that most of our group. Going out at night with Ishaira and Jennifer provided a dramatically different experience that going out with the white students in our group. With white students, I looked more like a part of a ‘stereotypically American’ group, and so out on the street I was approached more with offers of souvenirs for sale, authentic Cuban food, and  the promise of a good Cuban time. I was also served fairly quickly wherever I went.  Because I was thought of completely as a tourist, however, no one wanted to have any serious conversations with me. When I asked about my project question, “What is liberty?’, I got very flippant answers. Generally something around “I don’t know. Would you like a T-shirt?” or “I don’t really think about that…now would you like to come and order lunch?” I was a tourist, but that wasn’t really the experience that was looking for or that I could enjoy.

Being out with Ishaira and Jennifer, among others, I was generally treated in a way that I was more comfortable. Really, I’m from the Bahamas. I cater to tourists but I have absolutely no idea how to be one. In fact, being around tourists so often, I have no desire to be one. Spending my days judging tourists at home was certainly not conducive to enjoying becoming one of them in Cuba. That’s why when I was out with a group of people who could be Cuban; the way I was treated made me feel so much more comfortable. We were consistently harassed less: people on Calle Obispo had to consider whether or not they would bother offering their goods because we might be Cuban. We were actually fed Cuban food because we found the places down darker side streets where, as tourists, we probably shouldn’t have gone, but as maybe-Cubans, we were totally safe.  I also had completely serious conversations with Cubans because even when they found out that I wasn’t Cuban, the fact that I was (1) from a country in the Caribbean region and (2) not American made me more familiar.

Dinner.

There was a downside that was to be expected. Being maybe-Cuban meant that at a few of the restaurants at the hotels we stayed at we weren’t served in the same way. Flagging down the waiter to order out drinks didn’t seem quite fair as the other tables were being overly attended to. We didn’t look quite enough like tourists, I guess. Again, at hotels, I often saw workers there doing a double-take as I passed. I was almost happy about the all-inclusive resorts: at least there, they could glance at my wrist and see that yes, I did pay to stay at the hotel even if I could be Cuban.

That was okay, though. I was glad to be confused for a Cuban. It made me feel more at home. It’s a totally different country with a totally different language, but I definitely felt more comfortable there after two weeks that I have after being in Poughkeepsie for two years. The mannerisms were more familiar; it was normal instead of extraordinary to dance with my hips; it was okay to have conversation on the street with that nice old man sitting on the corner. I was close to home, geographically and emotionally, and it definitely made my experience in Cuba a very unique one.