A Morning Cup of Coffee in Cuba

By Laura Gomez

HAVANA TIMES – The first routine of Rolando Godínez’s day is to taste the coffee he will sell and give it his approval. Then he leaves the house with his load in tow. Rolando, 58, has become a seller of this beloved product among the Cuban population. A shot of strong coffee has always been essential to start the day, although some can no longer maintain the tradition.

How long have you been selling coffee?

For about two years. It wasn’t something I planned, but necessity prevails. A friend from Mayabeque suggested the business. He would bring one-pound packages to Havana, and they’d sell instantly. So, I started buying a pound from him for 300 pesos. He came every week until transportation issues and coffee shortages on his farm complicated things.

Do you wake up early for this job?

At two-thirty in the morning, I’m already up and begin preparing the ten-cup stove top coffee maker. In total, I make seven brews. When I finish, I pour the coffee into three thermoses. One pound of coffee gives me 126 small cups, which I sell for 20 pesos each. By 5:00 a.m., I’m out with my backpack, a chair, and a small table. At that hour, I’m the only one selling coffee. By seven, I’m back home. I can’t manage a job far from home.

What’s your situation like?

It might sound simple, but I’ve had to deal with my wife’s condition for 18 years. She was diagnosed as bipolar. When our son was born, I thought she might improve, but that wasn’t the case. If she could help me with the brewing, I wouldn’t feel so pressured, she’s as hardworking as I am. After I’m done selling, I often wash, clean, and do the dishes. I try to maintain a harmonious home environment, so she doesn’t destabilize, but without medication, it’s tough. She’s been hospitalized several times, and when that happens, I lose my daily earnings.

So you’re the one responsible for buying food?

For now, yes. The only income is from my coffee sales. Of course, with the country’s current economic situation, we have to perform miracles. Some people are worse off. Imagine, I’m diabetic and must prioritize certain foods. That’s why I often must lie down after work.

How do you get coffee to sell?

It’s an ordeal. You can’t just buy coffee from anyone. Some mix in too many peas, and I’m known for selling quality coffee, I can’t lose people’s trust. Currently, I buy two-pound packages for 800 pesos. The coffee sold by private stores is way too expensive: 1,200–1,330 pesos, which isn’t profitable. And you can’t even count on the subsidized “HOLA” coffee from the ration stores, which used to cost 11 pesos —that’s a forgotten dream. The last time it was available, in July, it was more peas than coffee.

What explanation did your friend give about the shortage of this essential product?

My friend is aware of the situation. He has a small plot where he grows coffee and knows from other farmers that drought, emigration, lack of funding, and shortages of fumigation products and fertilizers have caused the scarcity. According to the news, there’s also a shortage of packaging materials.

Don’t you buy coffee from the governments MLC (magnetic dollars) stores?

Impossible! Just thinking about it is out of the question. To buy a package of Turquino, Bayamesa, Serrano, or Cubita, you’d have to spend 11 MLC, and each MLC costs 270 pesos. I’d need to invest an amount I don’t have, and I don’t have family abroad to send me any either. You have to live our reality to understand it, and even then…

Do you think it’s a profitable business?

It’s enough for the daily essentials, but it’s not going to make you rich. I’m sure no business is bringing in substantial profits these days. When I deduct the investment, the earnings go not just for food but also to buy more coffee, pay utilities like water, electricity, and gas, get medication, and set aside savings in case something happens, and we need a rental car. I also have to buy disposable cups, which sometimes aren’t very hygienic or break easily. They’re not great quality, but in Cuba, we keep using them.

Do you socialize with customers when selling coffee?

Of course. I try to be kind and polite —you can see the quality of my brew in their expressions. I smile and wish for their return the next day— qualities that young workers in restaurants and cafés often lack. That’s called marketing, and without good manners, it’s a failure.

Most of my customers are workers, neighbors, many elderly people, and the occasional homeless person to whom I give a cup for free. Used cups go into an empty bucket, and I wash them thoroughly at home with detergent. I’ve heard customers complain about finding lipstick stains, insects, or trash in cups elsewhere. I enjoy chatting and staying updated on what’s happening in the country or the neighborhood gossip. It’s satisfying to modestly provide a good product. For me, at least, coffee eases headaches and gives me energy.

Do you think coffee is deeply tied to Cuban identity?

Absolutely. And I say this not just as a seller but as a consumer. It’s sad to know many people can no longer offer coffee when they have visitors. It’s part of our tradition and a gesture of hospitality that, unfortunately, many have had to abandon.

Read more from Cuba here on Havana Times.