CUBAN TRANSITIONS

Prior to our trip to Cuba, we learned and were warned about the presence of jineteros on the island.  These Cubans were reportedly found in tourist areas offering various services, ranging from directions to the nearest bar to sexual favors, or simply asking for handouts.  Upon arriving in Cuba, I did indeed see many examples of jineterismo, and I think all of my peers on this trip have a story or two of being hustled out of a few CUCs.  In general, I found these interactions to be largely harmless and often very interesting, certainly not negative experiences at all. What follows is a description of one incident, which I found to be both fascinating and particularly telling about the conditions of life in Cuba and for the jinetero.

What most people think of as jineterismo

During our last afternoon in Havana, a fellow student and I were walking the streets around the Calle Obispo, in the hopes of escaping the tourist crowds and catching a slice of the life of regular Cubans.  As we turned a corner, a man called out to us, asking if we had heard that a musician from the Buena Vista Social Club was playing that night.  We had, of course (people on the streets had been speaking of little else), but we nevertheless took him up on his offer to show us the bar in which he would allegedly be playing.  This man, who introduced himself as Miguel, spoke English very well, and mentioned that he could also communicate in both German and French, skills he claimed to have picked through school and by watching foreign films.  We followed him down a few streets until we reached a corner bar, which while pleasant seemed to be an unlikely place to be hosting such a famous musician.  We sat down for a cup of coffee and agreed to pay for his drink (a tall Cuba libre).

Calle Obispo

As we sat and drank, we chatted with Miguel about life in Cuba.  He told us that he was 31, had a young daughter, and mostly did odd jobs to get by. (I unfortunately neglected to take pictures.) He expressed to us his frustration at not being able to travel outside the country due to financial restrictions, and advised us to make the most of our opportunities, both in Cuba and around the world.  He said that while he was happy with the social services in his country, he wished there could be an extension of private business so as to allow more Cubans access to dollars and therefore a better life.

Throughout the conversation, he was in good spirits, and seemed to be just as interested in us as we were in him.  He asked us questions about where we came from and went to school, and was visibly impressed when we told him we lived in New York.  Even our assurances that we were well outside the city could not stem his praise.  While we were of course conscious of our social positions relative to each other, we were able to let our respective guards down enough to actually enjoy each other’s company.  When we expressed interest in the Santeria bracelet Miguel wore, he launched into an enthusiastic description of the faith, in which he extolled us to “give our problems to the sea, Yemalla” and revealed that he (as well as his mother) could be possessed by orishas, the spiritual powers of Santeria.  He even went so far as to invite us to his house to witness a ceremony, although we were forced to decline as we were leaving the next day.  All this indicates that this meeting was more than simple hustling; rather, it was an earnest exchange between people from very different background, with both parties eager to share and to learn.

Yemalla

When our coffees and Miguel’s drink were finished, we took our leave.  Before we left, Miguel asked us if we could spare some money for his daughter, whom he said was sick.  We of course gave him a few CUCs, reflecting afterwards that this was a perfect example of the complexity of jineterismo.

In many ways, Cuba would seem to be a prime location for the international illicit narcotics trade.  Situated between Latin America and the United States, Cuba could serve as a an important crossroads for traffickers, and the flourishing tourist economy based in part on an image of tropical hedonism could provide an ideal market for drugs within the country.  I wondered if these black market potentialities were being realized in Cuba, in part because I saw little to no evidence that they were during the two weeks we spent in the country.  What follows is information on Cuba’s drug policy, in terms of both domestic and foreign policy.

One of the first issues when exploring the drug trade in Cuba is the relative lack of information.  The Cuban government is at loath to publish significant information on drug use within the country, and most reports are based on high-profile cases in which large quantities of drugs are seized by Cuban authorities.  The assumed rationale behind this official silence is twofold: the Cuban government seeks to downplay the presence of a drug trade within the country’s borders, and highlight the efforts of the government to crack down on international traffickers.

Cuban officials find a recalo

Within Cuba, punishments for possession and distribution of drugs are notably harsh.  The maximum penalties for drug dealing in Cuba range from twenty years to life in prison, and law enforcement reserves the right to search a seize any property suspected of harboring drugs.  In 2008, over 1,800 people were tried in the country on distribution charges (3).  These measures are coupled with intensive use-prevention education, exposing the dangers of drugs.  Fidel Castro has stated that drugs are a “mortal venom for our youth and people,” (1) and this sentiment is widely echoed in the populace.  When I brought up the subject of drug use on the island with our tour guide Joel, he replied that drugs are “dangerous” and therefore rarely used on the island.  There are also extensive rehabilitation clinics and services in Cuba, designed to help get Cubans already addicted to drugs off the stuff for good.

Fidel Castro has remained vehemently anti-drug

Cuba recognizes its geographical location as being ideal for smugglers, and therefore keeps a close watch on its coastlines for signs of illicit activity by sea.  Dozens of dropped parcels of drugs (called recalos) wash up on Cuban shores every year, to be collected by the authorities or other groups like the CDR that regularly patrol prime drop points.  The government reports that it seized about 59 tons of illicit substances between 1997 and 2008, mostly marijuana and hashish from Jamaica and cocaine from Columbia (3).

Cuban soldiers find a recalo at sea

The government also works with 32 other countries, including Great Britain and fellow Caribbean nations, in an effort to curb the trade internationally.  These nations have given monetary support to the government to train airport officials in anti-drug measures, including an extensive canine drug-sniffing course (1).  Notably, the U.S. is not officially involved in these efforts, although most of the drugs shipped through Cuba are bound for a U.S. market.  (There is an unofficial accord with the U.S. coast guard, however.) Clearly, an agreement between the two countries would be beneficial for both but, as in almost all cases in U.S.-Cuba relations, outdated political stances prevent the countries from working together. While Cuba has made many important and effective strides toward reducing drug trade and use in the country, further eradication efforts depend on U.S. assistance.

Sources:
1. http://www-rohan.sdsu.edu/faculty/rwinslow/namerica/cuba.html
2. http://www.unc.edu/depts/diplomat/item/2009/0709/comm/lee_cuba.html
3. http://www.cbsnews.com/2100-202_162-676125.html

The National Cuban ballet, located in central Havana, is host to some of the most skilled classical dancers in Cuba and also the world. It was founded by the famous ballet dancer Alicia Alfonso and her husband in 1948 with the hopes of  spreading classical training in dance to young aspiring artists. The company has succeeded in its original endeavors in creating an international name that is recognized and applauded by dancers everywhere, but an important question that needs to be investigated is whether or not the company has succeeded in carrying out the goals of the revolution.

The goals of the revolution, or rather the ideologies are that of complete gender, class, and racial equality. These are the ideals that have been promoted by the Cuban state under socialism and the ideals that I feel have been neglected in the National Cuban ballet as well as other classical art forms in Cuba. I had the pleasure of seeing a live performance by the National Ballet during my stay in Cuba where I was able to base the majority of my conclusions surrounding this subject. I immediately noticed that all of the dancers were fair skinned cubans except for the lead male ballerina in the performance who was an Afro-Cuban. I soon found out that this was a huge rarity in Cuba from a kind Afro-Cuban woman who literally explained most of the social injustices and struggles that people of color go through on the island in our short time together.

According to the woman, the young Afro-Cuban male is originally from a poorer part of Cuba and had to work three times as hard as white Cubans to gain the respect and opportunities that he has received through the National Ballet. I asked her about the involvement of other Afro-Cubans in the Ballet, and she merely shook her head incredulously at my question. This account as well as how the company looked visually on stage with hardly no to zero darker skinned Cubans represented in an art form that is so prided by the government, tells me that Cuba has a long way to go in terms of accomplishing the goals set out by the revolution.

It is clear to see how the National Cuban Ballet presents many contradictions to the revolution. In “Music and Ideology”, Peter Manuel raised the questions, “Does classical music constitute a Trojan horse continuing elitist bourgeois values? Is the Cuban state merely vying for international prestige..?”I can only say yes, that this is exactly what the Cuban state is doing until we see more diversity in representation within the classical arts. In the present moment it seems as though it is reserved for only the social elite.

What is public space? How does it differ from a tourist attraction? Is there a difference between spaces that happens to be public and spaces made to be public? Town squares and parks stretch across the United States as places for people – both locals and visitors – to congregate, socialize, and relax. But these spaces have no political meaning or message. A square in front of City Hall may conveniently provide a space for protest, but here the monument created the event. In Cuba, the event created the monument, the revolution built Revolution Square, and Che Guevara’s death built his memorial.

Revolution Square and Che’s memorial are monuments of remembrance that are both important to locals and attractive to vacationers. With the division created by pesos and CUCs there are few “real” things that a tourist gets to experience while in Cuba. And while the two monuments are not “real” representations of Cuban life, they are shared. Revolution Square, specifically, is an important image to be projected to Cubans, as I saw in its significant presence in Habanastation. At the same time, however, Times Square and the Empire State Building are significant landmarks always central in films set in New York City. Clearly, though, they do not hold the same meaning, as New Yorkers who don’t work there often avoid these hotspots. One might say because of the chaos and traffic and general frustration with “non-New-Yorkers,” but this frustration is also present toward non-Cubans in Cuba. New Yorkers are able to avoid them because these buildings weren’t erected with a message anywhere near equivalent; they are not a message for the people but a message of industry, something that the revolution stands against.

My main thought on these Cuban monuments however, is there presence as a public space. The large pavement that makes up Revolution Square is not just a parking lot for tour buses, but a place both grand, where people will sit before the pope, and small, where people will often gather for live music. And while Che’s memorial is massive, stood upon his museum, across from it is, while slightly more decorated, another desolate square of pavement for congregation. Why are there no benches, no trees?

Law prevents local vendors from occupying these spaces, you will not be able to purchase Che key chain or a wooden mug with Cristal’s logo on the face. I get it, these monuments stand against what the industrial world is fighting them for, and these spaces hold great meaning for a culture bound in socialism. None-the-less, government owned tourist agencies bring every group to both spaces, and Che’s memorial is literally bringing in money for it.

Meaning is everything, and these monuments hold more meaning than anything as or more elaborate than Times Square. Cuba is not just an anomaly to the United States because of the embargo like I originally thought; everyone is amazed and curious by the country’s situation. The tourist economy may be thriving because of the low cost and pristine beaches, but their uniqueness is what keeps people coming back to find out more, to try and break into a world that the CUCs prevent them from entering. Che’s face looking down over stretching pavement seems to be the closest to a shared world between visitors and locals, perhaps because it has absolutely no semblance of either’s individual world. The lack in nature and comfortable seating in these communal spaces may exist because of financial limitations in design expansion, but it’s interesting that their absence prevents these incredibly important locations from being part of anyone’s daily routine.

The Morinda citrifolia, commonly known as the noni in Cuba and Hawaii, the dog dumpling in Barbados, and the fromagier in France (a letter away from ‘fromager’, which is ‘cheese-maker’), is a very special kind of fruit. Cubans call it the miracle fruit, and it has a long history of uses as a traditional medicine. After having fell intro slight abandon in the early part of the 20th century, the special period’s return to natural means of medication popularized it amongst agriculturalists and biologists alike. Some of it’s modern uses are touted as curing everything from ADHD, to various cancers, rheumatism, and alzheimers. Pretty impressive, but it’s only in the past two decades or so that the noni’s many qualities have gained international recognition and began being used commercially in the developed world. However, it has received a fair amount of criticism for being sold as a remedy for just about anything, when in fact its juice, the only product that makes it to Western markets, functions mostly as an energy booster.

Native to Indonesia and Australia, the noni is, technically speaking, an invasive species in most countries. This is mostly due to its wide tolerance range rather than any kind of rapid growth exhibited by most invasives. It can flourish in a multitude of settings, including dry to mesic forests, disturbed forests, littoral forests, grasslands, pastures, open sea lines, and volcanic rock, provided they are situated at pan-tropical latitudes. It needs at minimum a temperature of about 12°C/54°F, but can weather extremely high temperatures provided it has sufficient water. In terms of it’s specific morphology, each tree sees a lot of variance in leaf size and structure, coloration, palatability, and seed number. A great sturdiness however is typical of noni seeds, and they are capable of spending months floating in water and still be viable due to a tight air pocket just bellow the outer shell, one of the reasons it can spread so easily. The tree has an extensive root system and a deep taproot, which makes it very resistant to fierce tropical winds. It is actually used in some cases to protect shorelines, a land-bound, and admittedly less capable of fostering biodiversity, version of mangroves. From the base of it’s trunk to the top of its crown, it ranges from 3 to 10 m in height and the fruit itself is usually about 3-4cm in diameter. In the wild, it can live from about 40 to 50 years. It is very susceptible to insect pests and parasitic weeds, with asphids and weevils amongst the main slayer of noni trees.

The noni tree and its faithful guardian.

The fruits are generally thought to be the seat of the miracles, and they contain a variety of the chemical compounds such as amino acids (reputedly, 22 out of 24), anthraquinones, coumarins, fatty acids, flavonoids, iridoids, lignans, polysaccharides, sterols, sugars, sulfur-containing compounds, and terpenoids. These are indeed common elements the body requires for energy and stable health. This richness is what is generally described as the cause for the fruit’s fetid odor when ripe, harkening back to the Barbados and French names for it. However, as the quote from Scott Nelson’s article bellow illustrates, the entire plant can be put to use :

“Treatment for malaria, general febrifuge, and analgesic (leaf tea); laxative (all parts of the plant); jaundice (decoctions of stem bark); hypertension (extract of leaves, fruit, or bark); boils and carbuncles (fruit poultice); stomach ulcers (oils from the fruit); scalp insecticide (seed oil); tuberculosis, sprains, deep bruising, rheumatism (leaf or fruit poultices); sore throat (gargling a mash of the ripe fruit); body or intestinal worms (whole fresh fruits); fever (leaf poultice); cuts and wounds, abscesses, mouth and gum infections, toothaches (fruit); sties (flowers or vapor from broken leaves); stomach ache, fractures, diabetes, loss of appetite, urinary tract ailments, abdominal swelling, hernias, stings from stonefish, and human vitamin A deficiency (leaves).”

As mentioned above, many of these uses never leave the tropical areas and are practiced only by native populations who either can’t afford or chose not to use modern medicines. Of course, one might question their need to switch when such a plant is readily available. The noni is a reminder of the natural world’s bounty, and of humanity’s capability of putting it to use without compromising it. Part of the reason why all of the noni’s health benefits haven’t been capitalized on by northern countries is that many of the uses require the fruit to be fresh, which would be exceedingly difficult to supply to developed markets – and not merely because stores would have to come up with inventive ways of dealing with the smell. Another challenge is in the large scale processing of the plant. Many industrial methods, in an attempt to extract its benefits en mass, would damage the plant in ways that negate its medicinal capacities. Finally, there is now a cultural stigma around the noni due to the over enthusiastic marketing of its juice as a heal-all remedy, which makes it difficult to find the funds and the people interested in continuing research into the plant. So, for the time being, the Tropics keep their secrets and the noni continues its traditional use as a local, natural miracle.

Sources:

Ferment This: The Transformation of Noni, a Traditional Polynesian Medicine (Morinda citrifolia, Rubiaceae). Anna R. Dixon, Heather McMillen and Nina L. Etkin

Morinda citrifolia (noni). Scot C Nelson

One of the foods I was most eager to try in Cuba was their empanadas. I so far have never met an empanada I haven’t liked. To be fair, I haven’t had that many. Most of my empanada experiences have been from Twisted Soul (which are of the Argentine variety), and from my Cuban aunt and her family. While these experiences have been very gratifying, I wanted to try an “authentic” Cuban empanada.

Much like my search for avocados in Cuba (it must have been the wrong season), empanadas were proving difficult to find throughout the trip. Finally, on one of the last days in Havana, my friends and I found ourselves back at the Plaza Catedral, one of the first places we had visited.

We noticed a little stand next to a touristy restaurant that we hadn’t seen before.

Interestingly, I actually took this picture the first time we visited the plaza, but I didn't notice the stand from which I would later find empanadas.

We watched as the man working the stand prepared sandwiches for the people in front of us. With bare hands, he grabbed slabs of raw chicken and put them on the grill. He wiped off his hands on a piece of cloth, and went right on assembling the bread, tomatoes, and lettuce for the sandwiches. I couldn’t help but think to myself that if this stand were ever to be set up on the streets of New York, it would be shut down by the health department immediately. However, the resulting sandwiches looked good, and the prices looked even better. There was nothing on the menu more than two CUCs. We saw empanadas on the menu for 50 cents each, and so we ordered two for each of us. This was a daring move, as I knew it was very possible that these empanadas could be my digestive downfall. However, I took the chance, and it paid off when we received these beauties:

The empanadas were very bready and stuffed with bits of vegetables and a meat that was probably (hopefully) ham. They weren’t anything like the empanadas I’d had before, but they were tasty, and above all, I was very happy to be having lunch for 1 CUC. Thankfully, they also did not give us food poisoning.

While in Cuba, I learned that the word “empanada” comes from the Spanish verb “empanar,” which means, simply, to wrap with bread. Technically, a lot of things could be considered empanadas under this definition, and perhaps that is why we were served empanadas so different from the ones we were accustomed to. However, I wanted to do some research when I got back into what a traditional empanada is supposed to be, and what makes the Cuban empanada.

The Portuguese and the Spanish are credited with inventing the empanada in the Middle Ages as a filling on-the-go meal. Empanadas are all essentially made by folding dough or a bread patty over a filling, which can include many different ingredients. Spanish empanadas are usually filled with chorizo, tuna or sardines, while Portuguese ones usually have cod or pork loin. However, empanadas have diversified greatly over much of the globe. They are most popular in Spain and Portugal, Latin America, parts of the Caribbean, and parts of Asia. Many other cultures also have their own versions of empanadas, such as Italian calzones, Jamaican beef patties, Jewish knishes, British pastels, Eastern European perogies, Japanese gyozas, and South Asian samosas.

The Cuban empanada is usually filled with seasoned meats, including beef and chicken or even ropa vieja (shredded steak simmered in a tomato sauce) and deep fried. These are sometimes called empanaditas. Some empanadas can be made sweet, including cheese or guava, or other fruits.

A similar dish is Cuban pastelitos, which are made with a lighter pastry dough.

I know I’m going to try to make these when I get home:

Recipe:

http://projects.eveningedge.com/recipes/fried-beef-empanadas/

Sources:

http://nathanscomida.blogspot.com/2008/10/empanada-cubana-cuban-empanadas.html

http://www.elamanecer.ca/culinaryhistoryempanadas.htm

Our hotel in Havana, the Plaza Hotel, was an impressive introduction to Cuba. Although we first arrived in the wee hours of the morning, tired as can be, I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the beauty of the hotel and the graciousness of the staff (serving us drinks, fruit, and sandwiches at that hour!).

After getting a good night’s sleep, I was in an even better position the following morning to appreciate the hotel. When I went to the fifth floor for breakfast, I was awed by the views off the rooftop patio.

One building that was right near our hotel I didn’t pay any particular attention to until, later, I noticed the engraving on it that said “Edificio Barcadi.”

The view of the Barcardi building from our hotel rooftop.

The entrance to the Bacardi Building.

The Bacardi family and its company came up a few times in class and in our readings, but overall very briefly, so I was eager to find out more.

Don Facundo Bacardí Massó was born in Spain in 1814, but moved to Cuba in 1830. Rum was a popular alcoholic drink in Cuba at the time due to the availability of sugar, but it was not considered to be a sophisticated drink. Facundo experimented with making rum and is credited with creating the first white rum. In 1862 Facundo founded the Bacardi company with his brother, José, in Santiago de Cuba. The bat logo is a tribute to the fruit bats that lived in the distillery.

The company was taken over in time by Facundo’s sons, Emilio, Facundo, and José. In the 1880s and 90s the Cuban War of Independence made business difficult; various members of the Bacardí family were imprisoned or exiled. According to the Bacardi website, the still-popular Cuban drink, Cuba Libre, which is made with white rum, coca cola, and lime, was invented at the end of the war to celebrate.

By 1910, the Bacardi company had expanded to Spain, making it Cuba’s first multi-national company. In 1915, it expanded to the United States. However, the company in the US was soon forced to shut down due to Prohibition, which encouraged US tourists to go to Cuba.

Bacardi advertisement taking advantage of Prohibition in the US.

The new Art Deco Bacardi Building in Havana, opened in 1930, also attracted many tourists.

Close up of part of the Bacardi Building

Bacardi continued to expand across the world during the next few decades. However, after the triumph of the Cuban revolution, the Bacardi company in Cuba was seized by the government. As quoted by the Bacardi website, “The loss amounted to more than $76 million dollars (calculated at a 4.3% compound annual growth rate the loss was in excess of $415.5 million) and 90 percent of the Company’s volume.”

The company rebuilt itself in Mexico, Puerto Rico, Brazil, the United States, the Bahamas, Canada, Bermuda, and Spain. In the 1990s, Bacardi began buying many other spirits companies, to expand its list of spirits produced to include: Bacardi rum, Grey Goose vodka, Dewar’s Blended Scotch whisky, Bombay Sapphire gin, Martini & Rossi vermouth and Asti, Eristoff vodka, and Cazadores blue agave tequila.

Bacardi today is the largest privately owned spirits company in the world, and has been owned by seven generations of the Bacardi family to date. However, Bacardi is no longer sold in Cuba. Instead, the main brand of rum is the government-run company, Havana Club.

Sources:

http://www.bacardilimited.com/PressRelease/FactSheet

http://www.bacardiusa.com/home/history.aspx?cat=early

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/08/21/AR2008082102222.html

During the long hours of waiting at the Miami airport, on our way to Cuba, I discovered something about myself: I hate waiting. I was making my more patient friends anxious with my own restlessness.  One thing though that helped break the monotony was the appearance of a giant Rottweiler in line to be checked in to our flight. This dog must have been 200 lbs, and was getting a lot of attention from our fellow passengers. Some people were even taking pictures. I don’t know why this dog was being flown into Cuba, but I did catch myself thinking about it from time to time once we arrived. Once of the first things I noticed in Cuba was the size of the dogs. While the Rottweiler was probably two to three times the size of an average dog, the Cuban dogs were half to a third the size of an average dog. I admit that every time I saw a tiny Cuban dog, I estimated that the Rottweiler probably could have eaten a few of them and still been hungry.

A typical-sized adult Cuban dog.

A kitten wandering about the organic farm.

A stray cat seeking shelter.

Now, this might not have been interesting if this trend hadn’t continued for the rest of the trip. While we were in Havana, it wasn’t that noticeable; sure, the dogs and cats were small, but perhaps they were strays and just weren’t fed enough. However, as we entered the countryside, I couldn’t help but stare out the window at the smallest goats, cows, and horses that I’d ever seen. I thought they were all malnourished until Joel mentioned at one point that Cuba is home to some of the smallest animals in the world. I was fascinated by this – it couldn’t just be a result of malnutrition in the Special Period – and decided to do some research of my own.

Islands, in general, are very interesting places to study evolution, as the organisms there can sometimes evolve for thousands of years without disturbance from outside. Most people are familiar with the example of Darwin’s finches, showing that evolution can occur more quickly and noticeably on islands than on the mainland. One special phenomenon that can often happen on islands is called Foster’s rule, or the island rule, in which species quickly evolve to become larger or smaller. Some species become larger (gigantism) due to a lack of predation and an abundance of resources, while others become smaller (dwarfism) in order to conserve and maximize resources, depending on the conditions of the island. Dwarfism can be an effective method of survival, as smaller organisms more efficiently use nutrients and energy, need fewer resources, and can hide from prey. On an island, where resources may be limited, these factors are important. Gigantism, however, also has its benefits. Larger animals can prey on many types of smaller animals, can have large numbers of offspring, can dominate other animals, and can survive drought and famine better.

Pygmy hippos are an example of Foster's rule.

In Cuba, species have tended towards dwarfism. The hummingbird is the smallest bird in the world, and is endemic to Cuba. It can be only two inches long – so small that it is often mistaken for an insect. The third smallest frog in the world is also endemic to Cuba – the Monte Iberia Eleuth, less than half an inch long. Other tiny animals include the smallest scorpion, at half an inch long, and some of the smallest owls and bats.

The Monte Iberian Eleuth

Sources:

http://www.pbs.org/wnet/nature/lessons/good-things-come-in-small-packages/enhanced-video-resource/7400/

http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/evolution/gigantism-and-dwarfism-islands.html

http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/j.0014-3820.2006.tb00516.x/abstract

In early August of 2006, when it was announced that Fidel Castro was ill and he would be temporarily ceding power in Cuba to his brother Raul, celebrations erupted in Miami as the exile community awaited the “death of the dictator” and the inevitable collapse of his regime. Lisandro Perez, Cuban scholar from Florida International University, describes this “rupture” or “fall” scenario, which is the prevailing scenario of change in Cuba among the exile community in Miami. “The scenario is predicated on the primacy of personal authority, or caudillismo: once el hombre fuerte with the power is gone, it all falls like a tower of cards. In his essay “Reflections on the Future of Cuba,” Dr. Perez explains how this view is deeply rooted in a history and political culture of personalism. In the past when other strongmen have left, change has been ushered in almost immediately: Gerardo Machado in 1933 and Fulgencio Batista in 1959. Arturo Cobo, a Cuban exile activist, interviewed for an article on Miami’s reaction to Castro’s illness, said that this was an event that the exile community had been waiting for.  “After he’s dead, anything is possible.’’ Cobo said “There is exultation and joy in the exile community tonight.”

Cuban exiles in Miami cheer Castro's illness. (Source: Miami Herald)

Yet what should be cause for concern is the fact that it is not just the exile perspective of how change in Cuba will occur, but also the U.S.’s policy on Cuba that is based on a rupture scenario. This view is reflected in the official documents that sketch out Washington’s Cuba policy. The 2004 Report of the Commission for Assistance to a Free Cuba outlines recommendations for efforts to “hasten” Cuba’s transition. It then provides detailed guidelines for the direct U.S. involvement in basically all aspects of Cuban national life, “from health and education, to governance, justice, and the economy, even to the administration of a national park service (complete with the training of rangers), the establishment safe and drug-free schools, ESOL (English-for-speakers-of-other-languages) programs in the schools, and the distribution of toolkits for parental involvement in their children’s education.” This level of U.S. involvement (plans for a protectorate some argue) is grounded on the prediction that change in Cuba will happen overnight and does not allow for the possibility of an alternate scenario. One that, given the course of recent events in Cuba, seems much more likely: the continuation of the political order beyond the presence of Fidel, and now Raul, Castro.

Many scholars support this scenario and are thus critical of the U.S.’s “failed policy” towards Cuba. Lissando Perez argues “the likelihood of continuity, or a slow evolution, rather than a rupture.” There are many complex reasons. For one, he maintains that the Cuban Revolution “has successfully portrayed itself as the founder and trustee of an entire social, political, and economic system with institutions that will survive even the loss of the historical leader of the revolution.” The revolution brought changes that transformed people’s lives for the better, a fact many Cuban’s won’t be quick to forget. Yoel, our tour guide while in Cuba, told the story of his father, who grew up in poverty in the rural outskirts of Havana. He a young man when the revolution triumphed and was then able to go to university to study engineering thanks to the new government’s education reforms. “I wouldn’t have the life I live today had it not been for the revolution,” Yoel said to me.

Dr. Perez also credits the revolution’s success to the fact that it capitalized on political values and ideals that had long been part of a Cuban national identity, but that the Cuban Republic had failed to realize: “sovereignty, social justice, the dignity of all its people, and a national purpose guided by a history of exceptionalism that gave Cubans a particular sense of destiny as an independent nation in this hemisphere.” The genuine efforts to address the grave socioeconomic inequities of the past and the real accomplishments achieved towards that goal have been the lasting legacies of the revolution. And it’s this legacy that goes beyond the political symbolism and propaganda of the revolution and will certainly outlive its original leaders.

But the costs of these successes are something Cubans are painfully aware of. Economic austerity, housing shortages, severe food rationing, low wages, a debilitating dual economy and the loss of personal freedoms mark the daily lives of Cubans. Clearly something in Cuba has got give. Furthermore, economic reforms and liberalization in Cuba are already underway. But change means something different in Havana than it does in Washington or Miami.

A street in old Havana

I talked to a young man called Eddy who was trained as an agricultural engineer, but currently works as a bartender in a resort in Varadero and asked him how he felt about the revolution and what he saw for Cuba’s future. “I’d like to see the best of socialism and the best of capitalism, even if that meant paying a tax or some sort of insurance for health and education. But what needs to change is wages, to have them reflect the work we do. Because Cubans are very hard working people,” he said. He also spoke of how younger generations are losing faith in the government, while at the same time acknowledging the social improvements the revolutionary government has delivered. During our conversation I mentioned that I live in Honduras, one of the poorest countries in the region, whose capital city has one of the highest crime rates in the world and he immediately pointed out that as much as Cubans complain about their situation, the alternatives in most of their neighboring countries in Latin America and the Caribbean are hardly preferable. “You could walk out of the hotel right now, by yourself in the middle of the night and you’d be completely safe, not only because owning a weapon is illegal in Cuba, but because Cubans have no reason to harm you.” It was refreshing to finally hear a Cuban voice an impression that had seemed striking to me since our first few days in Havana. While many of my American classmates were shocked at how low the standards of living seemed to be in Cuba, after having lived in Honduras and Bolivia, I was pleasantly surprised. The quality of life seemed vastly higher in Cuba and there wasn’t the gross inequity of wealth that characterizes most of the developing world.

A taxi driver that took a group of us to Finca Vijia echoed Eddy’s sentiment. Although he said he hardly made enough money to get by working as a taxi driver and that the dual economy and the low wages were the main problem in Cuba, he also stated that “Cuba es el mejor país del mundo para vivir.” Cuba is the best country in the world to live in, he said, and he wouldn’t leave even if he had the chance. After being in Cuba for two weeks, and talking to many others like Eddy and that taxi driver, I think it’s fair to say that there are lots of Cuban’s who are not ready to throw the revolution out with Fidel. What exactly is in store for Cuba in the coming years, though, is hard to say.

Sources:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/08/01/AR2006080101405.html

http://www.cigarenvy.com/2006/08/01/miami-cubans-await-news-on-fidel-castro-health-crisis/

Lisandro Pérez. “Reflections on the Future of Cuba.” Cuban Studies, vol. 39 (2008)

My dad is a huge fan of Anthony Bourdain and his show, “No Reservations”. When he had found out I was going to Cuba this semester, his first reaction was to recommend Bourdain’s episode in Cuba. He also reminded me that Bourdain attended Vassar for two years until he transferred to the Culinary Institute of America. I only got around to watching his episode that takes place in Cuba after returning to the States. While watching the episode,I began to compare my experiences as a ‘well-informed’ tourist in Cuba with the way he represented his experiences in Cuba. I believe it is particularly important to examine how Bourdain represents Cuba in his episode of “No Reservations”, because it he is the intermediary between Cuban culture and his audience, like my father. My father is consuming the ‘Cuba’ that Bourdain constructs.

Bourdain, as a celebrity TV show host, enjoyed incredible mobility while touring Havana. He admits himself, that he had “been living large by Cuban standards.” Furthermore, he possesses a certain mobility to express certain feelings and ideas, a privilege afforded by him because he is an American filming a TV show that would be broadcasted by the American Travel Channel.

Bourdain made some charged jokes that could be interpreted as critical of Cuba. For example, as Bourdain watches an Industriales Baseball game, he concludes that the revolution was a failure because the government had recently outlawed beer in the baseball stadium. I found myself questioning whether the fact that Bourdain couldn’t wash down  his “Cuban” hotdog with a beer is a salient criticism of the revolution, and whether it warranted Bourdain suggesting a “regime change.” In fact, the real criticism in my opinion, was upstaged by the way the moment was filmed and edited. It came just seconds before Bourdain whined about the lack of beer in the Industriales’ stadium. The baseball game that Bourdain watches is a mid-week (Tuesday), daytime game because the lights of the stadium had been broken. Anthony Bourdain asks the justified question, how can so many people attend a day-game on a Tuesday? Bourdain’s guide whispers the disclaimer, “unemployment”. This seemed like one of the important critiques that needs to be posed in my opinion. However, I have reservations about whether Bourdain effectively communicated this message. The reality of unemployment in Cuba was sidetracked by a montage of fans dancing, singing and smiling. What message was “No Reservations” trying to express? The technique of upstaging criticism of the Cuban state with lively music and less politicized t.v. frames was ubiquitous in the program.

Perhaps, Bourdain was trying to offer a more complex conception of Cuba that is not essentialized. Some travel television programs would portray Cuba as an entity to be consumed: bottles of rum, fat cigars, beautiful people. Other programs about Cuba could be extremely charged and critical of the regime, not acknowledging its successes. I found that “No Reservation” did not commit to either portrayal of Cuba. Bourdain seemed to attempt to portray all these aspects of Cuba simultaneously. He praised the Cuban education system and the quality of the Cuban people. Yet, he also participated in the tourist consumption of Cuba throughout the show. Bourdain ate lots of fish (a food that is not very attainable for the average Cuban) at luxurious restaurants and drank straight aged-rum and Mojitos. Yet, Bourdain’s narration showed a level of consciousness of his own mobility as a tourist, which immobilizes others.

In the last minutes of the episode, Bourdain buys a tamale from a street vendor, and comments about how the street vendor is a more authentic representation of food in Cuba. Ironically, in the preceding scene he was eating fideo with squid and prawns(not typical of Cuban cuisine)  in a state owned restaurant with a Spanish chef. Bourdain spiraled between unauthentic representations of Cuban culture (i.e. the fideo with squid and prawns) and authentic representations of Cuban culture (or as close a tourist can get to an authentic portrayal). It seemed as if Bourdain was avoiding any conclusive claims and conclusions, passing the responsibility to judge to the viewer. Although, the unauthentic portrayals of Cuban culture were frustrating for me to watch, they are a reality of the new construction of Cuban culture. Tourism has become an extremely perceptible and large component of Cuba. A tour guide even tells Bourdain it is” necessary”.

In the finale, Bourdain suggests that people go to Cuba “to see”. But, he encourages people to see “the good and the bad”.  I believe that Cuba needs to continue to approach tourism, an integral part of its economy, with prudence. Tourism seems to have an ability to delimit “authentic” Cuban culture in spaces where Tourism is omnipresent.

My father saw Cuba in many different lights through “No Reservations”. The ability to portray the multiplicity of Cuba is impossible through video. However, I do believe “No Reservations” could be a good supplementary material.

In this same vein, my portrayal of Bourdain’s episode in Cuba is not “authentic”, especially given the limits of language to express experience. Therefore,

Part 1 of Cuba episode of “No Reservations” 

Part 2

Part 3