paradigm is still deeply rooted here—cooking, cleaning, and child rearing are mostly the purview of women, while men play sports, fix cars, and take out the garbage. Never mind that women make up 69 percent of the professional workforce, more than 60 percent of scientists with advanced degrees are women, and the emerging private sector is full of entrepreneurial females: restaurateurs, designers, and yes, even bike mechanics and metal workers. Like most things in Cuba, or anywhere for that matter, you take the good with the bad and this island, the biggest in the Caribbean, has much more of the former than the latter. Importantly: from the cities to the countryside, Cuba is a very safe travel destination overall, no matter your gender.
This island, too often falsely characterized as “stuck in time” or “preserved in amber,” is in constant evolution and these days, changing fast. There are many reasons for this rapid transformation, some more evident than others, such as the arrival of (for Cubans) new technologies including cell phones, internet and Wi-Fi, and digital television. Another major factor is the ongoing economic reform package known as the Lineamientos. Set in motion in 2010, these far-reaching reforms permit Cubans to buy and sell their homes and cars legally for the first time since 1959; relaxed travel restrictions for Cubans including doing away with the exit permit previously required and allowing residents to remain off-island for two years; and made it possible to open private businesses. This has injected new energy into daily life and spurred creativity and productivity in a land where blinking Christmas lights used to be the height of marketing and it was impossible to find food after 11 p.m. Today, there are 24-hour restaurants, Cubans of means bar hop until daybreak, private galleries host frequent openings, public transport options are varied, and you can have your iPhone repaired while copying the latest Netflix and FX series onto your hard drive. This is a breath of fresh air for Cubans with the resources to launch and patronize these businesses but a nasty taunt for the two out of three people who work for the state, the majority of whom earn the average monthly salary of $29CUC—and can only dream of owning a smart phone or cutting into a steak.
The other dramatic change affecting lives across the island is tourism. In 2017, international arrivals broke records, with more than 4 million visitors choosing Cuba for their foreign vacation. This has deposited over 3 billion dollars in government coffers, with revenues going to national programs including the universal health and education systems, infrastructure upkeep, and massive development projects like the new port and industrial zone at Mariel. Nevertheless, the country has been caught unprepared, with the sudden influx of visitors causing shortages of hotel rooms and transport; onerous lines at immigration, baggage claim, and money changers at airports (Havana is particularly bad); and a distortion of the local economy. Known as the “inverted pyramid,” where a taxi driver, guide, casa owner, or anyone working in tourism makes more than a neuro-surgeon, lawyer, or engineer, it’s something talked about all the time—from the street to the highest levels of government. Throughout my 1,800-plus mile road trip exploring the 100 places in this book, Cubans were incredibly vocal about the problems created by tourism and how it’s affecting their daily lives. In Trinidad, where every other house rents to foreigners and makes sure they have a bountiful breakfast, Rogelio told me: “A pineapple costs 25 pesos here—when you can find them. Before I got three for that price.” He went on to lament how the vegetable market was stripped bare last time he went to buy produce to feed his family. On the other side of the island, Alicia from seaside Yumurí explained what’s happening in her hometown: “We’ve always lived off whatever we could catch—octopus, lobster, and fish. But tourists can pay more and fresh fish now costs 35 pesos a pound; on my fixed income, I can’t afford it.”
The upshot? The tourism boom is creating a 1 percent in Cuba, a layer of the (relatively) super rich, while triggering a brain drain from the state to the private sector. In whatever context, this is unsustainable. Then there’s the environmental impact of 4 million visitors drinking bottled water, using air conditioning with abandon (most Cubans don’t have AC in their homes), and arriving on cruise ships or staying in all-inclusive resorts—two modes of travel with debatable benefits for the host country and proven disadvantages for the environment. Obviously, this is a two-way street and for the most part, Cubans are not environmentally conscious (you will see beer cans tossed from car windows during your visit), all of which argues for meaningful exchange and mutual learning between visitors and locals to help sustain the beauty of this unique country. All these issues form part of the national dialogue in today’s Cuba. According to Cuban journalist and historian Graziella Pogolotti, “For a country like ours, lacking in great mining wealth, tourism is a source of income of indisputable importance. The challenge is to devise strategies that enhance the possibilities of development in favor of the nation, culturally and humanly, because in the virtues of our people lies the soul of the nation.” Maintaining the health of that soul tops the agenda moving forward. For now, Alicia’s resigned smile while she explains astronomic fish prices, Rogelio tickling his two-year old granddaughter as he dreams of an affordable pineapple, Olivia walking Havana on a shoestring budget, eyes and heart wide open, and Kevin and company sharing stories in the home of a Cuban gentleman, are helping buoy the “soul of the nation.” Every tourism-dependent economy faces similarly complex challenges and I certainly don’t have any facile solutions for how to resolve them (especially given the internal, very Cuban contradictions exacerbating them), but I do know that raising awareness is a first step. By picking up this book, you’re embarking on a journey of discovery, of places to go in Cuba, of course, but also an exploration of what makes this place tick, the currents flowing beneath the surface, and the vulnerabilities faced by a nation emerging into a new era.
The election of US President Trump also ushered Cuba into a new era—or thrust it back into an older one, where the thaw is on between the United States and its island neighbor to the south. For travelers holding US residency or citizenship reading this, it’s important to note that there have been no “substantive changes to the legal categories of travel,” according to expert embargo lawyer Lindsay Frank during a Havana press conference in January 2018. And those so-called “sonic attacks” the Trump administration accused Cuban authorities of launching against US embassy staff in Havana? After several in-depth investigations on the island with full cooperation of the Cuban government, the FBI concluded that such attacks did not occur. Indeed, during the 2017 Madrid Travel Show, Cuba was elected as the safest country in the world to travel.
Neither licorice nor reggaetón excites my senses, but Cuba does—every day. I hope it does the same for you, whether you’re reading this from your favorite armchair or Varadero lounge chair, on a porch in Viñales or riding the bus to Baracoa.
CONNER GORRY
HAVANA, MARCH 2018
SINCE 1772, THIS BREEZY BOULEVARD lined with marble benches and antique iron streetlamps has been a destination for habaneros looking to escape overcrowded conditions in Habana Vieja and Centro Habana—the two neighborhoods bifurcated by the Prado—for an evening stroll, a lunchtime tryst or to conduct a bit of informal business. It’s reminiscent of a European boulevard with good reason—Madrid’s Prado and Barcelona’s Ramblas were used as blueprints for Havana’s famous promenade. Over the years, various additions and renovations beautified this popular public space but it wasn’t until renowned landscape architect Jean-Claude Nicolas Forestier lent his vision to the Prado, adding the bronze lions guarding its entrance near Parque Central and the sorely-needed shade trees, that it achieved the elegance it exudes today. Forestier had a heavy hand in shaping modern Havana, having designed parts of the University of Havana, Parque Almendares and other iconic spots around town. Along with the Malecón (where the boulevard leads), there is no better place to watch the pulse and swirl of the city and its inhabitants than the Prado.
The
