By John Honeywell on Mar 2, 11 09:15 PM in Cruise destinations
Whether it's thanks to Fidel Castro's stubborn refusal to change tack, a
result of the long-standing embargo imposed by near-neighbour the United
States, or because of the sudden withdrawal of financial aid when the
Soviet Union collapsed, there is no way that Cuba's communist regime can
be judged a success.
I'm no economics expert, but it doesn't take much to realise this is a
dirt-poor country in which everything appears to be falling apart - from
roads, to homes, to the entire social infrastructure.
In Havana I saw a crowd of people jostling to get into a building and
wondered whether this was the free all-day Buena Vista Social Club music
festival almost everyone on the streets had told me I must not miss. It
turned out to be a fish market, and the people were queuing for food.
I wrote earlier about the millions that are being spent restoring the
crumbling architectural masterpieces of the UNESCO World Heritage Site
that is Old Havana. If they don't speed up the work, many more buildings
will be reduced to dust before they can be rebuilt.
The roads are a mess, and heaven knows how the drivers keep their
"dinosaurs" - giant American cars from the 'fifties - running. The taxis
are owned by the government but their drivers are responsible for
repairs and I saw one vehicle having a replacement prop-shaft fitted at
the side of a busy roundabout.
Cubans get free education and health care; medicine and hospitals are
the country's biggest employers. They own their own houses but they are
not allowed to sell; they can only exchange for another of equivalent value.
Apart from a few large homes left behind by wealthy Cubans who fled to
Florida years ago, most are fairly squalid, whether they are jerry-built
brick shacks or concrete apartment blocks provided by the Russians.
Apart from a few licensed free-trade entrepreneurs operating tiny
one-man (or woman) businesses, everyone works for the government or in
partnership with it, and the vast majority simply have no disposable income.
Nevertheless, every passenger from Saga Pearl II who went ashore in
Havana, Cienfuegos, or at our final port of call on the island, Santiago
de Cuba, came away impressed with the friendliness of the locals.
As anxious as they must have been to make a few free-enterprise pesos,
none of the souvenir vendors showed a fraction of the aggression on
display at the so-called craft market I was ushered through at Dunn's
River Falls yesterday. And this was in Jamaica, supposedly a land of
legendary laid-backness. Yeah mon!
In Cuba there was little sign of the hassling jiniteros which my Lonely
Planet Guide had been so keen to warn of. Walking the streets of Old
Town Havana or the bustling alleys of Santiago it was impossible to
avoid touts offering their bicycle taxis or less-than-genuine cigars,
but they backed off at the first firm "no thankyou."
I encountered far more Cubans who were proud to show off their city and
asked for little or nothing by way of reward.
Admiring the art nouveau splendour of the soaring glass-vaulted Hotel
Raquel in Havana - having just wandered in, dusty-shoed from the street
- I was surprised to be invited to take in the view from the rooftop
terrace, where I was left un-hassled to enjoy the view across the city's
rooftops.
Gazing at the splendid portico of a grand building unidentified on my
rudimentary map, I was invited inside by a custodian of what turned out
to be an institute for veterans of Cuba's countless wars and
revolutions. I would have got more from my unexpected tour of its
statues and portraits if I'd had more than a brief acquaintance with
Spanish, but another impressive stained-glass window did not need words
to describe its beauty.
Most touching of all, while looking for that elusive music festival, I
was taken in hand by a young couple who, for the price of a mojito which
we shared together, taught me more about their country than any
reference book or Google search had done.
Fidel, I discovered, is still a revered hero. On the other hand his
brother Raul, who has been handed the reins of power, is despised for
the reforms he has introduced.
I am still kicking myself for not taking note of the couple's names. It
seems inadequate now to be able to refer only to "the wife" whose face
beamed with pride as she showed pictures of their beautiful
eight-year-old daughter and the cheeky smile of their two-year-old son.
And I hope the husband has a successful trip to England in a couple of
months when he travels on a government-sponsored tour playing drums in a
Cuban music ensemble. Incredibly, I saw him again later in the day as I
rode in a horse and buggy from the ship to the Hotel Nacional - he
spotted me and waved enthusiastically as I passed him on the seafront
promenade.
They taught me something else that explained a lot as I explored Cuba's
streets during my few days on the island. There is no soap to be had in
the country. Apparently the government has withdrawn subsidies it used
to pay so the people have nothing with which to wash thmselves or - more
disturbingly for them - their children.
On the few occasions we were approached by people begging with open
palms, they were more interested in being given soap than money.
When I return to Cuba - and I hope it will be soon - I know what to
bring for the benefit of its lovely people.
http://blogs.mirror.co.uk/captain-greybeard/2011/03/what-the-lovely-people-of-cuba.html
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