I´ll swap you my house for yours...

sorry the photos are not coming out!

Every Sunday those looking to move house congregate in Alamar’s central square (half grass half red soil, around 500m squared, mas o menos) to talk business. In the few hours you’re there you’ll question everyone...some will live in the wrong part of town, won’t have the right number of rooms - three is the coveted number), and many will live on the wrong floor. However, you may be lucky. If and when you find the perfect/sufficient one (remember you can’t easily up or downscale, and the person you find has got to like your house, or you need to work in a trio), then you get a lawyer involved and legally transfer ownership.

This isn’t the only interesting quirk of owning a house in Cuba. There are quite a few more, though it’s definitely worth remembering my experience is so far limited to Alamar; a quiet city (10km²) to the east of La Haban built in the 1970s. It consists of 4-11 story prefabricated concrete apartment blocks, long prized by Castro as an example of the achievements of socialism. It’s fair to say it’s not super attractive, but it’s not the “slum” that my guidebook describes it as. That it has a high unemployment rate and is notoriously difficult to navigate, I’ll grant, but for those that live here it’s still a vibrant and close community. In fact, if you live in one of the apartment blocks, it’s almost like being in halls – families live generally in very close confines, people will stop by unannounced, sometimes getting the wrong flat – though that’s OK as you’ll know who lives in the equivalent flat below or up one. I guess the main difference is that this is real life; and it’s not all plain sailing.

As is the case in the majority of apartments, (and ours) there are three generations under one roof; grandma, parents and kids in the most part. This seems to be the custom and I haven’t heard anyone moan about it. On the plus, there is always someone to help with the cleaning and babysitting, but on the other hand, in this heat and humidity, having to share rooms/beds isn’t ideal and privacy is very limited - for mum and dad in particular.  

When it comes to utilities, most houses I’ve visited so far are well equipped. Dated fans litter homes and are very well used. Our washing machine seems to go on at least once a day as well - with two young boys and a city consisting of red soil and dust it is understandable. The telephone seems to ring off the hook (family and friends) and TV and hifi’s, at least one of each, are standard. Cuba has 5 TV channels – all state run, without adverts and including two educational channels. Despite what seems to be a mediocre choice of viewing, the tele seems to be on almost constantly, with telenovelas (soap operas) being a national obsession. It reminds me of Neighbours in its hey-day - when it was on the BBC. When the tele isn’t on what sounds like the Buena Vista Social Club or similar blares out of the stereo.

Isis, Miguel Eduardo and myself playing dominos

When it comes to kitchen appliances, blenders are vital to whip up ‘batidos’ (milkshakes) or jugos (juices) when you have a glut of mangos or other exotic fruits, and fridges and cookers are not in short supply either - though not without a fight. Four years ago the government realised that the poor efficiency of household appliances in the county was costing it both money and its dear goal of energy self-sufficiency. To tackle this it launched a programme of obligatory refits – to include fridges, light bulbs and in some places gas cookers, which were swapped for pressure cookers. I can’t quite make the last one out but if you were issued a pressure cooker (and don’t confuse ‘issued’ for ‘given’), your gas was taken away and you were forced to buy it more expensively on the hit and miss black market. Despite being an obligatory swap, no discounts were offered and this was an expensive programme. Obviously energy efficiency is a good idea but Isis has been paying for her fridges for 4 years and will be doing so for another 2 at least.

Water is either cold for washing or boiled up for drinking. It isn’t as scarce as I’d imagined given the BBC reports I tuned into before leaving which told of the three year drought Cuba is suffering. This is partly because we get rain here that comes down from the hills and keeps the water table topped up. The rains have also come now so everyone is being fairly positive about it. I expect the situation is quite a lot like the UK though; some places are being hit more than others. Each house also has a water tank, much like a rain butt; only inside the house – for times of scarcity, including the middle of the day when there doesn’t seem to be any water. When it comes to showers, (and I never thought I’d say this) it’s amazing what you can do with a bucket of warm water and a jug – though given the bathroom is perfectly comfortable, warm and clean, it’s unsurprising the make do shower has been a hit.  

Homes are comfortable and functional but they are not luxurious.  At the moment there is much talk of the ´casa nueva´ that belongs to Isis´ mother and father in law. It´s not actually new but recently renovated and thus still very novel. But it depends on luck really as to whether you get to live in a good spot or on a good floor. If not the situation is like that of many apartment blocks; depending on who lives above you hanging your washing outside is sometimes risky and peace and quiet is a rarity. Luxury as a concept is of course very relative and here, what definitely matters the most, is living close to your family.

Sunday was father’s day and we went from house to house eating, playing dominos and treating dads with (luxury) gifts of beer, coffee and cake. I was particularly touched to have been invited to lunch at Miguel Salcines house (president of the Organoponico/Isis father) where I sat with him and his wife watching videos on Cuba’s ‘green revolution’ and talking (food) politics in the country and worldwide. Considering this (Cuba’s) is one of the hardest accents I’ve encountered I didn’t do too badly (and if in doubt rely heavily on facial expressions) but you tend to get to the end of the day and, as you can probably tell, neither Spanish nor English comes out that well!

The bedroom I’ve kindly been given whilst I’m here

Isis with husband, father in law and son playing dominos