Cuba: Axis of Evil?

For George Bush, Cuba forms part of his axis of evil alongside Iraq, Iran, North Korea, Libya and Syria. Trade embargo restrictions have tighten under his rule and US citizens can be fined up to $50, 000 for spending money on the island. But as my plane touched down in Havana, I wondered how evil a beautiful paradise with white sand beaches, crystal blue water and lush green valleys could be.

As the captain instructed us to stay in our seats, questions that would plague my soiree in Cuba swirled through my mind. Are Cubans happy? Would they prefer a capitalist lifestyle? Where they better under Batista? Does socialism work in practice? What will happen when Castro dies? Indeed, is he already dead?

Did I find the answers to these questions? Of course not. Confusion still fills my mind and the questions lie unanswered. Cuba is a country that dissembles, conceals and hides. What is, is not.

I will never know the real Cuba but I fell for its charm like Graeme Green, John Lennon and Ernest Hemingway have done before me.

I fell for its people who might know the answers to Cuba’s secrets.

It was to them I turned to for answers.

The first person to answer my questions was Ylida, a woman immortalised at 17 years old; the age she was when Castro seized power in 1959. As she talked about the “brave, young revolutionaries”, her eyes twinkled and she slipped back to her youth. She described her daily walk from her village to get water and her soft spot for Che Guevara’s dark locks. He was alive and well in her heart. She exclaimed the wonders of improved health care, education and general standards of living. There was no evil here.

Or was there? Were her words too rosy, too positive, too unreal. Or am I a cynic? I longed to ask her why her daughter was living in Canada if Cuba was as perfect as she described.

An over talkative Cuban at the Ferry Port in Cayo Granma near Santigao provided me with a different set of answers. No, he wasn’t happy. He couldn’t buy trousers nor birthday presents for his friends; they had to make do with a bottle of rum. His brother lived in the States and had money to burn. But he only made $12 dollars a month. “What can I buy with that?” he asked me.

“It must be terrible. Simply terrible” I replied to be polite while my brain furiously struggled to grasp how terrible, not forgetting evil, his situation really was.

$12 in the USA is nothing. It was disappear in the UK. It doesn’t even go far in El Salvador. But $12 in Cuba is another matter. Firstly, rent doesn’t exist in Cuba; People live in houses … for free. Sugar, rice, one roll of toilet per day, soap among other essential items are given to everyone. Yes, given. Children free receive milk or yogurt daily depending on their age. Health care and schooling are free. Baseball matches, top concerts, theatre and opera are cents.

“So, what does he spend his $12 dollars on?” I wondered.

Cheese Pizza, I concluded.

$12 is approximately 300 Cuban Pesos. One very tasty, filling, addictive cheese pizza costs $5 Cuban Pesos. In a month, he could eat 2 cheese pizzas a day. It may not be a balanced diet but at least he wouldn’t go hungry.

The same cannot be said for an El Salvadorian who struggles on $1 dollar a day and receives no rice, sugar or soap; Let alone education and health care.

As I listened to his complaints, I pondered, are they merely materialistic worries? He can’t buy clothes nor possessions. Yet, nor can I … most of the time.

How many of us crave a gorgeous shirt in Jane Norman or a snazzy pair of trousers in Zara but don’t buy them without risking the bank’s wrath. And don’t even mention designer clothes; they are so out of my range, I can’t even name the top designers.

So, was this overtalkive Cuban so different from you and me? Of course, he was. Although his complaints were neither of evil nor terror, they can be summarised in one word; Choice.

We can choose to break the bank and buy the shirt or trousers. He couldn’t. For him, the money simply didn’t exist.

Yet, the situation again confounds it self if we consider what choice $1 in a day in El Salvador would give. Not a lot. They too have no choice.

It must be remember that Cuba is a developing country; One that is developing in its own way. If we compare it to other developing countries, how badly does it fare? Pretty good, I’d say.

For a socialist country, this unhappy man wasn’t the only materialistic individual I encountered.

Most 17 year olds are very image conscious. 17 year old Cubans are no exception.

Jorge was the son of our Casa Particular owner in Viñales, a beautiful valley two hours west of Havana. While we paid to stay in his home; he quizzed us ferociously on the latest prices.

“How much is an I pod?” he began. “A pair of converse boots?” he continued before adding, “What is better a Nokia or Motorola?”. The list was endless. A Nike T-shirt? An MP3 Player? A laptop? A desktop computer?

Sadly for him, he had picked the wrong person to ask. I’m a Luddite with no designer dress sense. Luckily for me, I had stumbled on jack pot. Another person to interrogate. I subtly tried to establish where he knew about all of these things.

Refreshingly, advertising doesn’t exist in Cuba. Unless you are a revolutionary. Dead or alive, it doesn’t matter. You are “advertised” everywhere. And I could probably count the Cubans who own an ipod. On one hand.

So, just how had this 17 year old become obsessed with I pods, laptops and converse shoes?

“Do you use the internet much?” I queried trying to establish if he had learnt about these products there. “No”. he replied. “We are not allowed.” Ha. No answer there then.

I deducted it must be from tourists. Despite its highly dangerous status on the axis of evil, Cuba is a prime tourist destination. In Viñales in the summer months, there are more tourists than villagers. Over a thousand, in fact. Another question to ask here is whether tourism has undervalued socialism and traditional Cuban society. Yet that would open up another minefield which a 1500 word limit doesn’t allow.

I decided to stick to the key questions like; were health and schooling an hundred percent free?

The answer for education was yes, yes, yes. Even books, accommodation and food. Yet, something being free, doesn’t guarantee quality. After his year of military service, he would study computers in Havana in a university without proper computers. Technology in Cuba resembles its cars; stuck in the past. Just how George Bush could suggest that Cubans have the capacity to make Nuclear Weapons is beyond me. He should try sending an e-mail in Cuba if he wishes to see how advanced their technology is. Although he wouldn’t have the time to wait while the internet dials up.

The answer for health came from his mother. When asked if the health care for her sister who was suffering from a malignant tumour was free, she replied, “There is free and then there is free.” This language of contradiction was further confounded by her next statement, “It is free but you may have to slaughter your pig to get it.” Rather than a complex metaphor, this is in fact a literal statement. Their neighbour had slaughtered their pig to ensure preferential treatment by the doctor. Do you think that tactic will work with my NHS doctor?

The bottom line is that highly trained doctors still only receive $13 dollars a month and if you can improve the quality of their lives with gifts they might listen to your complaint with a sympathetic ear.

While this isn’t a great system for those with no pigs to kill, remember our average El Salvadorian is still struggling on one dollar a day and no hope if they become ill. Giving a gift to your doctor isn’t undoable but paying for health care with a dollar is.

While this serious discussion on health care was conducted between Jorge mother’s and myself, Jorge changed and reappeared a vision of gold. He has adorned a gold Dolce and Gabbana t-shirt, a gold chain and two gold rings. He would have looked the part in my local in Essex.

Not put out by my lack of gadget and designer clothing knowledge, he invited us for a night on the town to commiserate our last night in Cuba. With so many questions unanswered, I jumped at the chance.

We sat (between dances) in an improvised disco in a Cave 5 kilometres outside of Viñales, having a frank discussion that compared Socialist and Capitalist economies. He conceded houses were too expensive in the West. Other tourists had told him about this but this was the only negative consequence of capitalism.

I tried to tell him about text addicts who ignore you while you aimlessly try to make conversation on your night out together, mothers who worried about their son’s eyesight and social interaction as they spent too many hours watching TV and playing computer games, expensive phone bills, repetitive wrist strain, the lack of community spirit and the rip off prices charged for designer clothes.

These arguments, of course, were inconsequential and rather lame. He was Dick Whittingham and the streets of Europe and the USA were paved with gold. And Dolce and Gabbana. I had after all exercised choice in coming to Cuba; he couldn’t choose to simply visit the UK.

As the night drew to a close at the heady heights of 4am, Cuba revealed itself to me. My sleepy eyes woke to see an Axis of resourcefulness and community. Not an Axis of Evil. Hundreds of Cubans poured out of the disco in the cave but only a handful of cars could be seen. No worry. Everyone would get home; Everyone would get in a car somehow. Cuba is a community. We work together and help each other out were the comments made by patient, waiting Cubans.

I watched as 1950s Cadillacs and Fords filled themselves with numerous arms and legs only to return again 15 minutes later and do the same. Again and again. There were no brawls, bar fights or drunks; not like my local. Wholesome fun was had by all who had ventured out and it would be the same the next week and the one after.

I never did find out the answers to my questions. I only found more questions. But I gained an insight into something with potential. I learnt about community and resourcefulness and making every little count.
You must go and experience Cuba if you ever hope to understand it. And then send me the answers to my questions if you find them on a postcard. Actually, make that an e-mail. They won’t fit on a postcard.