After roughly 6-½ hours we landed in Havana’s José Martí International Airport, which first opened in 1930. It’s now comprised of two distinct terminals. Terminal 2, the newest, opened in 1998 once it became easier for some U.S. Charter flights to travel to Cuba. Back in the late 90’s, and throughout much of the 2000’s, it was mostly flights from New York and Miami that reunited once divided families split when the US embargos of the 60’s disallowed US airlines access to Cuba. Today it’s the terminal most often used for international flights while the old one is used primarily for only domestic. Something about Terminal 2 still feels way older than 1998. Maybe it was the climb down the stairs onto the tarmac and working our way toward the terminal, even though I’ve done that before. Maybe is was just the mystic of traveling to a location that for a long, long time was nearly impossible to get to directly from the United States. Or maybe it was the armed soldiers, although not overtly visible, that stood ready and reminded one that you’ve now entered a Communist police state country. Because it feels a little like 80's action movies retro it tends to make anyone’s first time in Cuba feel both exhilarating and a little bit dangerous.
Our flight originated out of Pittsburgh on United Airlines. It didn’t exactly didn’t start out so smooth. When traveling to Cuba one needs a tourist card, sometimes called a visa (although technically it’s not). Normal ways of getting one is through your airline, the Cuban Embassy or some online sites that claim you can get one through them. United sells them in locations where a direct flight leaves from, like Newark, which was our first-stop with a 1.5 hour layover mind you. For some reason the lady at the counter seemed to be believe we should have the visa in hand first. That would have meant we’d have had to either travel to the Cuban Embassy in D.C. or one of the destination airports where United sells the visa, like Newark, and then travel back to Pittsburgh to then board our plane (which then went directly to Newark). Luckily the lady at the counter saw how ridicules this was and allowed us to board before both our plane and our patience left us.
We traveled in early 2019 under the now banned “People-to-People” option. Cruises are now banned as well. You can still travel there under 11 categories, which if you stay within the US Customs set parameters, counts as a “travel license” granted by the U.S. Government. You don’t get an actual hard copy of a license; the US is simply allowing you to go there legally. The category that is currently the most popular is “Support of the Cuban People”. It’s a stricter, but very doable, version of the “people to people” category we used.
At some point I may write more in depth about what it takes to get to Cuba legally with the new restrictions, but today I’d rather just tell you about our trip.
Going through customs we were questioned about the amount of older cell phones and tablets we were bringing in. Research said those were some of the main items Cubans desired along with good candy, which we also brought. Since we try to travel light without checked baggage these items fit well in our carry on. We had intended to give them to people we knew we were going to meet to dispense as they saw fit. Far exceeding the amount allowed of two per traveler, we were surprised when customs allowed them through. They let us off with a mild warning making us feel like we had single-handedly defeated Communism.
Making our way outside, we came across a taxi stand unlike any other airport taxi stand we'll probably ever see again outside of Cuba. Lined with pre-1959 Detroit and American steel made classic cars, we were immediately jolted back in time. Some are in great condition while others are seemingly held together with band-aides, glue and duct tape.
We didn’t have the time to absorb the shock of seeing so much historic Americano on Cuban soil before the fierce competition from multitudes of drivers trying to earn our fare became the new focus of our attention. Call me paranoid, but I really don’t like to take chances on taxi drivers in foreign countries, especially aggressive ones. It generally makes me nervous and brings up memories of those 80's movies again where things went bad quickly. In talking to a few folks who had previously traveled to Cuba I was able to make a connection with a cab driver they knew and trusted who was able to meet us when we landed. It’s just something I try and do when I travel. The guy, whom I had contacted through WhatsApp, wound up sending his brother in his stead. Outside he was holding a sign with two names on it – Thor and Angela. While I don’t feel like I look like a Thor it seemed ok to just roll with it given Chris Hemsworth’s current popularity and at least one of us was a tall blonde – even if it wasn’t me. Fortunately for us, our driver even spoke a little English.
sewerA Drive Back in Time…
It seemed like a drive of a lifetime… back in time. Cuba is myth. Cuba is legend. Expectations that the culture would have an exotic spin to it were well on their way to being fulfilled. There are not many places like Cuba left on the planet. Places stopped in time. That was even more evident sitting in the back seat of our pink, pre-1959, Buick convertible. Passing palm trees and numerous pre-Cuban Revolution American cars, as colorful as the Spanish architecture, could make anyone feel a little longing for simpler times.
Intentions here aren’t to write about Communism in Cuba but it can’t be ignored either. Many grew up in the cold war. Kennedy, Castro, the Bay of Pigs and the Cuban Missile Crisis are well known history. Still, Cuba surprised me in how little I really knew about the country and it’s people. We learn from propaganda machines and while much may be justified; it’s still easy to forget there are real people there. People like you and I, with sons and daughters who have successes and struggles, just like you and I. That will live and die, just like the rest of us. Many judge a country by the Government and the politics but that isn’t what a country is. A country is the people and the Cuban people I met are magnificent and proud.
One anomaly in Cuba that isn’t nostalgic is AirBnb. Even with an Internet that’s still in its infancy AirBnb has found a niche there. It perfectly qualifies for the “People to People” or “Support of the Cuban People” category. It takes all the guesswork out of trying to figure out if the Cuban government owns the Hotel you’re considering booking (a big no-no) or whether or not it’s privately owned. US Customs provides a list of where Americans are allowed to go and stay, but it frequently changes.
The mobile Network there is still sporting 2G and 3G and likely will be for some time. Not on this drive (but at one point in our trip) I picked up a sim card from the countries cellular company, Cubacel, to have better Internet access and be able to make local calls. With long lines out the door it was a pain and time consuming. I believe I had to pay for an entire month for about 70 dollars even though we only needed it for a week. Because of this sketchy Internet availability, most AirBnb hosts likely can’t get back to you immediately. The vast majority of Cubans rely on neighborhood government Wi-Fi parks that are hopefully in walking distance. There they connect via a phone card you can purchase at various locations usually marked with a “Cubacel” sign. Most visitors and tourists rely on the same phone cards and Wi-Fi parks.
Our drive from the airport to our AirBnb was going to take about 45 minutes. Along the way we drove past a surprisingly affluent area of well-groomed estates. Our driver explained that area had embassies operated by countries that maintain diplomatic relations with Cuba. We were mildly surprised such decadent estates still existed, but then again, why wouldn't they.
In Cuba you need cash and we needed to exchange some quickly even just to pay our driver. Barely anywhere accepts credit cards except maybe the big hotels. There are two different currencies in Cuba. The one visitors need to be concerned with is the Cuban Convertible Peso called the CUC. It’s pinned 1 to 1 against the US dollar. That doesn’t mean you’re going to spend a ton of money there because it’s 1 to 1. You could easily get by on a 100 CUC a day or less for two people. For reference, at one point I had bought an entire pizza for a dollar. Research had said we had several options to exchange Cuban pesos. Airport lines at the cambio de dinero (money exchange) are long so we wanted to avoid that. Another option was going into Havana to a bank to exchange but both cambios and banks charge a 10% fee plus another 3% as a processing fee. The third option would be a private exchange. I had arranged ahead of time with our drivers brother to possibly exchange so we could avoid the extra 3% fee and the lengthy lines. However, I wasn’t expecting his brother to take us directly to his home.
Driving into a barrio on the outskirts of Havana where fixing potholes, that our driver deftly out maneuvered, was apparently unheard of. The homes, many in need of a fresh coat of paint and basic maintenance, seemed tightly pushed together. I briefly wondered if this was how one loses a kidney. Apparently I’ve watched too many movies.
Eventually we came to a gated home. Our driver jumped out to unlock it so he could pull the Buick in. I made sure to note the he immediately locked it once we were safely inside. It was then a little girl ran up to greet her daddy with his wife not far behind. With a proud smile he introduced us. We managed to choke out a few “Holas” and “Gracias” along with our own smiles. Any concerns of losing a kidney immediately gone with the warm welcome we received. Our movie-style kidnapping left to only my imagination.
Just to make the reader aware, exchanging money privately in communist Cuba is frowned upon. It’s definitely not recommended for first time travelers unless you know and trust the person you’ll be exchanging with. We took a risk, but I like to consider the world isn’t as terrible as the gossipmongers and naysayers would want us to believe.
Making our way around back of his home we were also introduced to his elderly mother. Her smile lit up the home. We were surprised to learn then that our driver was also a preacher. I thought what an odd combo, preacher/taxi driver, but then when you hear taxi drivers in Cuba can make more money in a day than a neurosurgeon can in a month, you begin to understand why those old American cars are so valuable to the Cuban people. As the preacher went to gather up some money for us (I think we exchanged 500 dollars) his wife honored us with our first genuine cup of Cuban coffee much to Angie’s delight. It was made the perfect way over the top of the stove and likely the only way they ever made it in that house. For the exchange we paid the 10% fee, which you really can’t get away from, although I hear the percentage can fluctuate. We did save the additional 3% the cambio or bank would have charged us and from what I understand, if you stay in a hotel and exchange there, you’ll get charged even more than 3%. Knowing our driver probably can’t make financially in Cuba what we make here in the US, we hoped exchanging with him helped a little.
Rich or poor, money couldn’t buy the love you felt in his humble home. His wife was kind enough to make us a few more cups of coffee while we attempted to have discussions our driver attempted to translate. This was also unfortunately our realization why it was terrible we knew so little Spanish. With his family not knowing any English, you could sense the disappointment that we couldn’t communicate well, especially from our driver’s mother. There could have been so much insight we could have gained from them but the language presented a formidable barrier. I would have loved to hear, from someone like our drivers mother, her take on Che Guevara, Castro, the Cuban Revolution and America’s part in it all. After all, she lived through it all.
Even with the language barrier, it was still the perfect introduction to Cuba and the culture. Grateful, we left them with some of the candy we had brought as well a few other things we’d hoped they’d like. His daughter’s eyes lit up at the site of American candy.
Mi Casa, Tu Casa
Our Airbnb was in Casablanca across the Port of Havana from Old Town. Within walking distance would be the El Cristo de La Habana, a giant marble statue of Christ completed in 1958. Communist or not, Cuba maintains a strong connection to Christianity but maybe not surprisingly, also Santeria, which means “worship of saints”. Many claim that Santeria is a mix of West African beliefs and Roman Catholicism while others claim, as is often the case when something is misunderstood, that it’s a type of voodoo.
The price for our Casa was to be around $30.00 a night for a studio apartment with a private entrance, comfortable bed, a large bathroom and a tiled balcony overlooking the Port of Havana where all the large ships came in. Our hosts were incredibly gracias and over the course of our time there they felt more and more like family. A year after our trip we still stay in touch on WhatsApp and through Facebook.
The first day we arrived, the power was out. The previous evening a terrible storm had hit Havana with a rare tornado touching down. The storm killed 4 and injured 195. Our place wasn’t directly hit and was only impacted by lack of power. We decided to quickly check in and run down to catch the last ferry over to Old Town Havana which still had power and hoped by the time we got back maybe we’d have power. We brought our phone chargers. You don’t need a power adapter in Cuba if you’re from the United States.
The streets of Old Town were busy when we arrived. Cruise ships from the U.S. were still permitted at that time, so the streets were full of tourists.
Grifters trying to get tourists to spend their money inundated us with one offer after another. Many restaurants even have someone outside trying to steer you inside. The pressure and competition you feel from those out to hustle can be overwhelming at first. You get a sense the hustle is probably justified. Personally, I can both respect the hustle and also be turned away from it. It seems to be part of the human condition where we want to both help while simultaneously avoiding the desperation we perceive from others. It gives us that plausible deniability. Our hosts already advised us to avoid buying certain items like cigars off the street since they were probably counterfeit. Maintaining the discipline to simply say ‘no’ in a kind way, while still giving the respect of eye contact, is an art form. You’d think all of this would make for a bad experience but the opposite was true. It gave us a sense of appreciation and gratitude.
Although we were hungry we avoided eating out that first night because our hosts wanted to make us a dinner. Normally they charged an extra fee for dinner but waved it because they felt bad the power was out. Sensing this was important to them, we promised to return before sundown. A taxi took us back to our casa for about $6.00. Unfortunately the power was still out. The balcony was set up with candles and a small table. Our meals were amazing. My plate had included a large lobster tail, while Angela’s had ample vegetables, rice, salad and a Cuban style fish which I inherited since she is mostly vegetarian. It was humbling to know that while we had the minor inconvenience of no power that many people, just a few miles away, lost everything the night before. Our hosts were gracious and seemed very concerned that we might be upset because of the lack of power no matter how much we assured them we were fine. We fell asleep easily even though a business below our balcony had a generator running most of the night.
The next morning, with the power still out, our hosts amazing mother brought us breakfast with fresh squeezed juices, exotic fresh fruits, simple meats and eggs, as she did every morning during our stay. The coffee there was perfect and bottomless. They were surprised we consumed as much coffee as we did. By the end of our stay they just kept bringing it without much question. Angie would drink mine if I didn’t hold onto it. Apparently she thinks, because I drink mine slow, that it somehow means I don’t want it.
After taking the ferry over again and spending a second full day in Old Town the power had been restored by the time we got back that evening. For our remaining stay, our excellent hosts filled all our needs. They even arranged for a driver they knew and trusted when requested.
One day he took us to a beach about 40 minutes east of Havana called Playa Santa Maria del Mar. It’s a beautiful beach that lacks the big crowds you’d find at other similar beaches around the world. After a light lunch, a few hours of fun in the sun and some minor shopping at a few merchandise stands, our driver came back at the exact time he said he would. We asked if he had time to take us the long way home to possibly experience some sights we’d otherwise never get a chance to see. We ended up at Parque Lenin. A beautiful park that also happens to have a huge Vladimir Lenin monument created by a famous Soviet sculptor known for his ‘Soviet Realist’ style named Lev Kerbel.
It was interesting insight into how many Cubans still believe in the ideology Castro carefully had cultivated during his tenure. Our driver didn’t speak much English. The Lenin statue wasn’t what I expected when I asked him, through Google Translate, if he could show us the real Cuba. As an American, it's somewhat disconcerting to see a momument of someone still revered in a country only 90 miles away from another country where he's so reviled. It was a reminder that the Soviet Union and communist ideology will always be a part of the real Cuba. No matter what happens in the future the echoes from the cold war can never be erased, nor should they. It's an undeniable part of history.
Ironically there's another Parque Lennon in Havana. There you can get a picture sitting next to bronze statue of John Lennon on a park bench but unfortunately we never made it there on this trip. I suspect if I had specifically asked our driver to take us to Park Lennon that there was a better than 50/50 chance we would have still ended up at the one with Vladimir instead of John... and I'm ok with that.
Havana Daydreaming
For me, travel is not only about the destination but it’s also about the people. Cuba, and more specifically Havana, has its own identity. It is its own museum. If it were an American, it would have its own social security number. There’s a rhythm and a vibe that feeds off its people and the people in turn feed off the city. The energy there isn’t necessarily perfect but there’s often a dark side to everything and Havana is no different. I would feel a profound sense of disappointment if the city weren’t honest and honesty is what Havana does best. It doesn’t hide from what it is, what it isn’t and what it possible could become. It’s not just a look down memory lane. For the first time in 40+ years there’s a new spirit being focused towards the future. It’s a proud city. It stands defiant in spite of what the mighty America and Cuba’s own communist regime have thrown at it. It still stands in spite of every literal and figurative storm that’s ever tried to destroy it. When the day comes that Havana becomes freer from restrictive policies and geopolitical control, expect its citizens to rise up to the challenge. Its 2.1 million citizens seem to be developing a clearer vision and direction of where they want to go and I’m sure they’ll be taking Havana and the entire Country along with them.
I for one am torn between wanting it to stay the same for my own selfish reasons and wanting to see the city and its people be exactly what they’re capable of becoming. Right now, when you walk down the main promenade along the Caribbean Sea, called The Malecón, you can’t help but notice the vacant dilapidated buildings. In most other major cities in the world this would be prime real estate filled with major hotels, upscale boutiques, restaurants and coffee shops. Yet this isn’t where the action is. Hardly anything along the promenade in Old Town, or the immediate neighborhoods headed west, is anywhere you’d want to check out. The Caribbean itself is the only real draw. For that reason alone, there’s something to be said for walking along the Malecón at sunset and watching the waters batter the storm wall while puffing on a genuine Cuban cigar. The history of Havana is a complicated one. The Cuban people who fled Cuba during the revolution, as well as many Americans who were forced to leave, had their properties confiscated. It’s a sore point between the US and Cuba. It seems to prevent relations from ever being normalized. Those who felt forced to flee, still lay claim to those confiscated properties. I can’t help but wonder looking at all the vacant properties what motivates the Cuban Government today to not try something new. There has to be a solution. The jobs alone that would be created from improvements would be astounding. There’s still a divide in Cuba between the have and the have nots so its not the preservation of perceived communism. The monthly stipend the Government provides doesn’t cut it for many. Moving forward may be a daunting task for the government but they probably can no longer go backwards now that the genie has been let out of the bottle. The times they are a changing… whether Cuba is ready or not.
New privately owned restaurants are springing up in special designated districts. Tattoo shops are popping up complete with entrepreneurial tattooists sporting Mohawks. I know, because we got tattoos to prove it. There are numerous options of art exhibits and dance companies to explore. Live rock music dances off 100-year-old Spanish architecture. The boundaries of freedom of expression are being experimented with in documentaries and editorial cartoons. The expanding middle class, now able to travel more freely because they now have the means to do so, are gaining business momentum in the world outside. Miami fashion trends now trickle into Havana more each day. It’s clear the city is slowly coming back to life. The transformation, now post Castro brothers regime, seems to have a life of its own. The current powers that be are still by all accounts, trying to find a way forward. Hopefully there are enough leaders that truly have the people’s interest at heart.
On one of our days we visited an oncology hospital. Working as an oncology nurse, Angela has developed a passion and curiosity regarding medicine around the globe. In this area Cuba is yet again considered special. Its doctors are notoriously some of the best trained. The hospital we went to was old. The bathroom in the lobby felt like using it might actually put you in the hospital. The equipment they had to work seemed sub par and yet their quality of care is among the best in the world. It’s a paradox they have the success there that they do. The doctors make less than the taxi driver who drove us to the hospital. Cuban doctors, many wanting from the time they were a child to follow in the footsteps of their idol and doctor Che Guava, are among Cuba’s best assets. An agreement with Venezuela, called the “Oil for Doctors” program nets 100,000 barrels of much needed oil a day to run those American Cars. It’s also one of the reasons why America is currently reverting back to once again punishing Cuba with harsher sanctions. The U.S. takes the stance Cuba is supporting Venezuela when in reality, from their viewpoint, they have limited options. The people stuck in the middle are really who suffers with higher gas prices, which cripples an already poor economy. It’s easier to be supportive of sanctions if you don’t have to look the countries people in the eye. A Cuba with less oil is a Cuba without some of those amazing American cars running the roads. What other country will step up give away oil for lending its doctors and simply training its medical community?
Cuba is starting to stretch its capitalistic muscle but they also seem stuck in a damned if they do and damned if they don’t situation. If Cuba is to find a way out from where they are it will take significant help from the outside world and patience. If that happens, will Cuba still be the same Cuba we visited? It may be only 90 miles from the United States but it’s still light years away from most things you know.
illALL PHOTOS BY: Angela Erdmann and Thomas Lonero
