Cuba: The Good, the Bad & the Bizarre

It was my first time going to a Communist Caribbean country with no edible chocolate — no edible anything — so compromise was the order of the week. I’ll admit, I’m a pampered princess, so the lack of ‘modern conveniences’ in Cuba, such as toilet paper, Starbucks, and easy access to the Internet, I found a tad tiresome.

On the plane going over, Claudia tried to prepare me. She told me they charged you per sheet for the toilet paper in public washrooms. She was right! Three sheets per person — 4 if they like you. A lady sits on a chair and doles out the coveted paper. You duly drop some coins on a plate, and she smiles. At the airport, one lady was using an empty Pringles tin, filling it with water, and pouring it into the toilets after you left. We got in at the deep end, if you’ll pardon the pun! That was the bizarre part.

On the positive side, it was a fabulous rest for all of us — no computer, no proper junk food. Don’t get me wrong, there was junk food… it just wasn’t fun to eat! The meat was decidedly suspect, which is why I decided to become a vegetarian again — safer by far!! It was my first time going to an all-inclusive resort and I realize now I’m not a good candidate. I’m a hippy at heart. I felt like a caged animal. Life centred around eating – eat, rest by the beach or pool. Eat again, play, eat, rest, eat…eat again, play, eat…you get the drift… It was competitive too. You have to plonk your towels on a bed by the beach or pool by 7 a.m. at the latest!  Everything gets snapped up early.

Our resort, Sol Palmeras in Varadero, boasts 4 stars and incredible service. Waiters were always on hand offering free drinks, food — anything — even a neck massage if you asked nicely…and popped a peso in their palm! It was clean, efficient, and delivered everything they promised — sea, sand, sunshine, music, and lots of happy smiles. Hanging out there reminded me of my time on a Kibbutz in Israel many years ago. Staff are busy about their work, tending the gardens, singing, laughing, cooking in the kitchen, the sound of cutlery clattering as you swing lazily on your hammock beneath the majestic palm trees. My abiding memory of Cuba will be those tall, incredibly beautiful palm trees, and that turquoise blue sky. I couldn’t get enough swinging time. I would while away hours on the hammock, feeling like Robinson Crusoe, listening to the gentle rhythmic roar of the tide. Magic!

The whole Cuba experience was very much a journey back in time. Time has stood still there. The clock stopped when they fell out with America, and decided to go it alone. As I write, a truce is in the making. It’s anybody’s guess as to how this is going to affect Cuba, both socially, and economically. Approx. 65% of its 11 million inhabitants are Spanish, 20% African, and the rest a mix of Chinese and others. There was no distinct ‘Cuban’ citizen. I found the black Cubans by far the happiest, and the most friendly. They were brought in from Africa centuries ago as slaves, and endured horrendous cruelty. So the current Communist way of life where everyone is equal works especially well for them.

Nobody can buy a house, they have to swap homes if they want to move. Realtors are illegal. $250,000 can buy you the biggest, most luxurious home in Cuba, with 6 bedrooms and 4 bathrooms. Professionals earn only $2,000 a month, while regular folk half of that amount. They rely a lot on tourism, the sugar cane industry, and the ‘3 Musketeers’, as they affectionately call them — namely, Tobacco, Coffee, and Rum. Some people travel to Cuba simply for the cigars — seriously. I met a man on the Havana tour who was cigar crazy. Cigars were on his mind when he booked the trip. His favourite smoke which costs him $30 in Canada is only $6 in Cuba, so he was there to stock up. There is a limit of 50 cigars per person.

Plaza America, with its telling title, was the most happening place on our resort. A cute little blue Disney-like choo choo train transferred tourists down each day, past the bungalows for rent and glorious, lush tropical foliage that reminded me of the Kibbutz. At the Plaza you could buy fab Russianized fashion, designed to please the boys — shiny, short, and sleazy in the extreme, plus tacky souvenirs and t-shirts that you would see in the dollar store at home — except a lot more expensive. Cuban women look at you wistfully, because they never have enough money to buy bling, or travel, or do fun things. Everything there is so expensive, sort of what I think East Berlin must have been like before the wall came down.

It is very common to see tons of hitchhikers on the road as few people own cars. It is illegal to pass a hitchhiker on the road. Fellows wearing yellow trousers are there on duty to ensure that hikers get a ride. If you pass a hitcher, your driving license is taken from you, and you have to pay a hefty penalty. Cuba for the most part has very little crime, though watch your bag and bling in Havana!!

Some reviewers compared our resort in Varadero to a Butlin’s holiday camp. I found that amusing, and true at times, especially when the family games came out! Bubbles by the pool, sweet innocent games of shooting the ball into a hole in a box, getting the ring around the rim of a drunken rum bottle, or dancing with a group of awkward tourists around the pool. Mind you I liked the beach aerobics and tried that one day, and loved the Tai Chi another day. All novel experiences. So yes, it was a mix between life on a Kibbutz and Butlin’s, all rolled into one jolly holly holiday camp. Add in sunshine, ocean swimming, and there you have the makings of a heavenly hiatus.

Tourists comprised mainly Germans, English, Russian and Canadians, so the air was one of friendly reserve. The Buffet experience was a battle every day. The Germans always managed to be first at everything. I was in awe. It was like a game of musical chairs, with pile ups for food, and people scuttering to find an empty table. I guess when you have several hundred hungry, sun drenched tourists hitting the dining room at the same time, and wanting to be fed, things get mighty competitive!

Desserts were all sickly sweet…I like sugar but hey! not as much as they delivered. Fish tasted and looked like rubber, (they have no fishing industry because Fidel removed the boats in case they tried to escape to Miami!), eggs were not eggs — don’t mind what they say! meat was doggone suspect, and the only vegetables that tasted like their authentic self were the french fries and good old frozen peas! Coffee was as thick as stew, served lukewarm with half milk, and a cannon ball kick — an acquired taste if ever. Everything was laced with sugar, sugar, and more sugar! The sugar cane is a huge industry in Cuba so they can afford to be generous.

The highlight of our holiday was our trip to Havana. Getting away from the resort, which really could be anywhere, and seeing ‘the real Cuba’ is something I would highly recommend to anybody considering going there. Havana is a richly rewarding tourist experience. The majestic buildings, Governor’s home which is now a museum, St Francis of Assisi Square with its spectacular buddy bears exhibit, comprising a hand painted bear for every country in the world. Worth seeing and truly magnificent. Revolution Square, where giant images of Cuban heroes, Che Guevara and Fidel Castro are proudly displayed. Che Guevara’s image is plastered on everything from t-shirts to bags — it’s even tattooed on men’s body parts! Havana was everything I had hoped for and more — minus the shops. Nobody has anything, it’s a poor place. So not a shopping destination.

The Irish connection was a sweet surprise. There is a street in Havana named O’Reilly street, and a plaque beneath it dedicated to the Irish/Cuban connection which reads ‘Cuba and Ireland: Two island peoples in the same seas of struggle and Hope’. My home town in Ireland has pictures of Che Guevara everywhere. We even have a festival dedicated to him every summer. Che Guevara’s maternal grandmother apparently was Irish. I also noticed a love for the colours green, white and gold in the sumptuous costumes at the Tropicana club. By the way, the Tropicana show is a must-see when you go to Havana. The dancing, music, and costumes will take your breath away.

You go to Cuba for the cultural experience, the 3 Musketeers, the happy people, incredible music, vibrant dancing, driving around in colourful old 50s cars, sipping sweet cappuccinos in dusty old cafes in Havana, with the aroma of cigars, high ceilings, and piano music,  memories of Ernest Hemingway, and a glamorous bygone era… Now the rich Cubans are all living the dream in Miami — the promised land for every Cuban — only 90 tantalizing miles across the ocean… Singers Gloria Estefan and Pitbull are proud Cuban ex-pats, now living that dream in Miami.

Some day soon it will all change. Cuba is a huge wannabe Miami. And it’s going to happen… The beautiful old American Embassy will be resurrected…Who knows what will happen then?

In the meantime, the rhythm is definitely going to getcha!!

Love and hugs,

Polly P xx