The harder the struggle the bigger the heart...

 

Despite thirty years of revolutionary struggle, another ten plus of widespread hardship and the current status quo of food insecurity and financial pressures, not to mention the reality of a  tourist ‘apartheid’, Cuban’s are widely held to be amongst the friendliest and happiest people in the world.

It sounds like an unlikely juxtaposition; one minute you could be wrapped up in the stress of finding enough protein to satisfy a hungry family and the next you’re merrily sharing what rations you do have and enjoying the music, rum and company of others.

Unlikely it may sound but false it is not. The urban myth goes like this: ‘On one occasion a couple was approached in the streets of Havana by a group of children asking for chewing gum. When they said they didn’t have any, one boy asked for money instead. The reply was again in the negative, upon which the children conducted a quick whip-round and gave the bewildered tourists a handful of small change.’

I shouldn’t get carried away; I’ve been here for less than a week and nestled in the neighbourly suburbs am yet to enter into the central of the capital where, granted, I may find the situation somewhat diluted. But honestly, I don’t find this so hard to believe. On my first day I already recounted that Isis, whom I had just met, took me to lunch, presented me to her parents and vacated one of her rooms relegating herself to the sofabed so that I could stay there whilst I worked at the Organopónico. And she wouldn’t have it any other way. Meanwhile, the price I’m paying for this generosity, whilst sufficient, does not reach a level where she could be benefiting financially from my stay.

Isis eating a mango in the organopónico

Since then I’ve been brought juice, fruit and coconut snacks by farm labourers and of course been taught and made feel welcome at the Organopónico - despite my being there being quite risky for them. (If anyone from the government happens to pop by, my orders are quite strictly ‘to hide’!)

This feels newsworthy enough, but it seems to me all the more admirable given the state of relative tourist ‘apartheid’ that Cubans suffer every day. By this I mean the following; tourists can jump restaurant queues, eat food produced in the county that some locals haven’t even seen let alone eaten (such as lobster and prawns), spend their own currency in rare well stocked shops and of course stay in hotels and play golf on luxury resorts that until 2 years ago Cuban’s couldn’t even enter into let alone afford. Indeed still many remain off limits for both reasons. Cuban’s are effectively reduced to second class citizens in their own country.

Apparently there is a saying here; ‘while the Cuban sleeps the tourist takes off with the bounty’. It doesn’t translate so well but you get the gist. And though this may sound similar to the situation in some other developing countries, it obviously feels both very wrong and uncomfortable. I am fortunate to be living as much as a local as is possible here; sharing meals, a home and a ‘job’ with those around me. But this is not the kind of tourism the government intended, and the existence of separate facilities and distinct currencies is a sign of its efforts to keep tourists and Cuban’s apart.

On my first day I was told that a Cuban male (or even female) walking down the street with a western female (or male) is likely to be arrested right then and there. I’ve (thankfully) not seen any police yet, so I can’t verify whether this practise is still popular or not, but it definitely has been the case in the recent past. It will be interesting to see how things manifest in the capital and when I begin to explore the Island.

To finish however, a few of the finer details of social etiquette; when you greet someone it’s always one kiss, not two, and a handshake if it’s male to male. Hissing to attract attention is standard, and Cuban’s touch a lot. One dated book on Cuba that Isis lent me warns, ‘the island is not a good place for those disdainful of physical contact’. I’ve found that more often than not the ‘touching’ is either an assertive prod or a reassuring squeeze of the arm. There’s nothing sexual about it, and in fact, I find it quite encouraging; you know where you stand, and I can’t help thinking my compañeros wouldn’t do it if they hadn’t warmed slightly to my being there.