Could This Be Cuba’s Final Stretch?
HAVANA TIMES – Before the “Special Period” – the economic crisis of the 90s – Cuba was lulled by the dream of prosperity, even if it was at the expense of the then Socialist powers.
The fall of Eastern Europe was a violent awakening, overwhelming. The fuel scarcity, the long blackouts, the use of bicycles for mass public transport, were impressions that lodged in the collective subconscious like a nightmare.
Up until a few years ago, that traumatic cycle was the subject of conversations where each one would talk about how they managed to survive in the beloved country that was crumbling before our eyes.
However, now the commentaries are: “Remember when we believed that the Special Period was the worst thing that could ever happen to us?” Or “The Special Period was a walk in the park compared to this!”
Because the present in Cuba, unclassifiable by any euphemism, is without a doubt the harshest times we’ve gone through on this island.
The nineties swept away the tradition of hospitality when people visit (sharing food, offering a snack, a sweet, a glass of juice or a smoothie). Those years wiped out the practice of birthday presents, now reduced to congratulations or even evasive justifications. They irrevocably altered our cuisine, the fluidity of public transport, the “free” medical attention.
From that time on, getting good attention in a medical consultation depends on the quality of the “present” you bring (or who recommends you). So, how do you feel now when you have to even bring your own medical supplies to the hospital, according to what I’ve been told. I haven’t visited a hospital for some time, and the truth is that even passing by at a distance gives me a stab of anxiety in the stomach.
This “what happened afterwards,” which has no name, could be called “the ferocious stampede,” or “the final stretch” if we’re optimists. It ended the visits to relatives or friends. You only go out for some pressing necessity, since everyday Cubans shrink from the uncertainty of waiting for a bus, or facing the abusive price of a taxi – money that can and should be used for the super-expensive basic foods. Leisurely outings have disappeared, and eating or snacking in the street. Everything is a luxury, even the basic essentials.
I remember how I felt years ago, when I would go into a store that sold in CUC [a Cuban hard currency, no longer in use] to buy an ice cream and see the faces of the children glued to the window, admiring the jams and colored sprinkles, mentally savoring their exquisite flavors. I’d feel guilty going out with my container of the frozen treat, whose price at that time was equivalent to a comfortable ride home in a taxi.
I don’t know how the mothers cope now, with the impossibilities that permeate every aspect of daily life. I don’t know how they “wrestle” the money to fill a plate, calm a stomach for some hours.
I don’t know how the men face up to the enormous challenges of paternity. Or if they confront them at all; or if the numbers of single mothers have simply shot up, like the abandonment of pets, the abandonment of the elderly, or the way the basic rules of hygiene have been broken in the city, with so much garbage strewn across the grass and sidewalks, and overflowing sewer water.
If they imposed the term “special” on that former period – a word instinctively associated with pleasant things – to confuse our overall comprehension of the crisis, leaving us in a double stupor (practical and semantic), then where will this crisis without a name take us?
I want to believe that, by force, it will lead us to a change.
The air feels heavy and sad, but laden with a latent promise, like the life hidden in a seed, like the silver lining in the darkest cloud.
What is full, must overflow, what is fragile, must break, what’s sick either dies, or is cured.
But no crisis can remain permanent.
Jeff:
Do you honestly believe a foreigner would enjoy living on an island – Cuba – that has power interruptions (blackouts) for a significant duration daily? No matter where one lives in Cuba today the state of its electrical grid is completely broken. The country has no money to completely overhaul the system so that all residents can have reliable power. How would anyone refrigerate their food without consistent electricity?
Cubans today must suffer the indignity of having to throw out fresh food purchased one day because their refrigerator the next day has no power to keep food appropriately refrigerated. And with the average day time temperature in Cuba in the 25 to 30 degree Celsius range all year long, how long will it take “refrigerated” minced meat to spoil? Cuba is not cold Canada.
Cubans today must deal with that dire daily predicament? There are no exceptions for foreigners – like Canadians – who want to as you state: .”. . . to live on the island and build new property“. Any foreigner will live as a Cuban lives – in desperate despair with a strong desire to live elsewhere.
Have you any idea what building materials cost in Cuba to build new property? You certainly cannot run down to your local building supply store to purchase materials. The cost in Cuba for just a bag of cement is extremely exorbitant. The only new construction in Cuba today is the totalitarian government attempting to build new hotels.
These potentially new buildings – hotels – are conveniently located where the government guarantees constant electricity mainly in the Cayos strewn on the Cuban coasts away from large urban centres. Certainly no individual foreigner would be given permission to build there with the current authoritarian government.
Any wise Canadian, or any foreigner for that matter, who “dreams” of living in Cuba for 6 months would probably live in a “casa particular” for that duration. That way when the going gets tough, and to spend 6 months in Cuba today as a foreigner and visitor, the going will be tough, the foreigner can pack their bags and leave rapidly. Obviously, not so if one signs a 50 year lease as you suggest.
Another option is buying a house. The problem there is that the totalitarian government does not allow foreigners to purchase property. Cuban property is quite cheap now as many Cubans want to sell their homes rapidly so that they can emigrate. Marriage to a Cuban spouse can resolve that situation but that entails a whole set of other contentious Cuban issues.
Realistically, in the final analysis, the only foreigners who are welcomed to build anything in Cuba are Russians and Chinese entrepreneurs with significant cash to “donate” to the totalitarian Cuban government. Their monetary investments serve their monetary interests plus the interests of the authoritarian rulers and do very little in alleviating the majority of Cubans perpetual poverty.
Cuba needs to allow foreigners to live on the island and build new property. It could be 50 year lease. The money and tax collection will help infrastructure for everyone. What a dream for Canadians to be allowed their own little place in cuba and stay for 6 months throughout the year.
Veronica Vega, I have been in Cuba for the last 2 weeks, my 4th visit over 30 years. I am impressed at how well you describe the current state of life we find here on this visit. Please continue your good work. Cliff
Not sure if the Cuban government peruses HT, but there is a saying you’re “riding a dead horse” that fits perfectly:
Lack of forward movement: No significant progress or positive results despite repeated attempts.
No response to efforts: No matter how hard you push, the situation remains stagnant.
Obvious decline in performance or quality: The project is clearly failing to meet expectations.
Negative feedback or resistance: Others express concerns or disinterest in the direction you’re going.
Waste of time and resources: Continued efforts are draining energy and not producing any valuable outcome.
Changing market conditions: The environment has shifted, making your current approach irrelevant.
Capitalism is very good system.
How beautifully written. Praying for better days in Cuba. Cubans deserve so much more.