Note - I wrote this story right after we came back from a trip to Cuba. Just when a local newspaper considered publishing it - President Bush issued a proclamation putting a bounty on illegal Cuban visitors. I sat on this story until after Bush left office and the statue of limitations ran out.
Have you ever wanted to visit Cuba? Just thrill of forbidden fruit 90 miles off our coast emits a siren song. All the wonderful stories about the Cuba of old that our grandparents told us about beckon our spirits to this setting of The Godfather movie.
With Fidel Castro on his deathbed Lulu and I decided to make a visit to this defiant communist nation in the sun. We wanted to see what was so important that US citizens have been denied access for 50 years. Did Fidel and the communists really have a better way?
Our trip started in Fort Lauderdale. I had heard that one could go to the Bahamas - find a travel agent - and board a Cubana Air jet - and be in Havana in a half hour. On the Internet - people were saying you must take your passport along - take along a lot of cash - and your passport would not be stamped - but you would be able to tour like a king. It was worth the chance.
The trip to Nassau - the Bahamian Capital - was uneventful. Nassau is such a pretty place - even if our quest failed - a few days there would not be the end of the world. In the Bahamas - we found a Holiday Inn and got a room for the night. After parking our bags - we set out to walk the streets of town - looking for a travel agent.
On one of the back streets - we found Millenium Travel. We entered the office and told our tale to the agent. The agent said there was one flight daily from Nassau to Havana on Cubana Air. He said we should give him $300 cash and come back in 3 hours - the tickets would be there. Despite the risk of losing $300 - we had come too far to be cautious. This was a once in a lifetime trip.
We went for lunch - with different visions dancing in their heads. I was so excited and happy - I had complete trust in the stories that I read on the Internet. I wanted to see all the wonderful old cars from the 50s. Lulu was petrified. She was convinced we would get into Cuba - and never be seen again.
The 3 hours flew by - we returned for the tickets. The agent handed us two hand written tickets on a Cubana Air form. We would fly the next day. We slept fitfully wondering what came next. Nassau felt like home in comparison to what we expected.
Morning came and we took a cab to the airport. When we got to the airport - the plane was waiting and many of the passengers were carrying big packages. Everything was packaged in clear shrink wrap. Most of the folks were taking booty from the "free world" back to friends and family. It did not look much different from any other Caribbean airport scene.
We boarded a Yak 20 - a Russian jet that looked very much like a Boeing 727. As we walked up the steps Lulu trudged as if it were a funeral march. We had everything in one carry-on-bag.
When seated - a women that appeared to weigh 300 pounds - went through the life jacket and seat belt routine. Not much different than boarding a plane in Atlanta - except the host was taking up the space of maybe 200 extra pounds of luggage.
As the jet raced its engine - the entire cabin filled up with smoke. All of the other passengers did not stir over the smoke - this prevented Lulu from jumping up and down or panicing. The plane cleared the ground about the same time the cabin air cleared. It was only water vapor - but owe aged 10 years. We flew low over the shallow water - and easily picked out Bimini with its seaplanes - and Miami. One could easily see Cuba and the USA without pivoting ones head.
We landed at Jose Marti Airport and the spelling on all the signs changed to "Habana." In the terminal we went through customs. Our bag was inspected - and the our passports were returned unstamped - with the $20 bill removed from inside that I had left there. No one asked to see the $500 cash that people on the Internet said would be inspected. We were in and still alive.
Locals were not allowed in the terminal - so we proceeded to an office upstairs. In that office we saw the only computer that appeared on the trip. The sole person in the office was playing Solitaire on it.
We asked the agent to get us a hotel in Havana. Lulu heard that the Hotel Nacional was nice - it was one time owned by Meyer Lansky - the mobster. The agent picked up a phone - made a call - and said that there would a room at the hotel for us and that we had to pay him $80 cash. He said a cab downstairs would take us there.
We walked downstairs and out through a paper covered glass door but were not prepared for the scene on the other side. Hundreds of people were there - cheerfully and noisily waiting. At first we thought the locals had us mixed up were rock stars - but it turned out they were waiting for family members returning with the clear bags of booty.
We found a cab and proceed the roughly 10 miles into town. The road looked similar to an Interstate highway except - it had bikes - trucks - donkey carts - walkers - and a few cars on it all traveling together at mixed speeds.
Havana was pretty and messy like almost any other tropical city. The buildings were old and in need of much repair. There was plenty of evidence of plaster patching and brightly painted colors. Most of the doors and windows were open with little glass and obviously no air conditioning. Lots of laundry was hanging from the porches in the balmy air.
Directly ahead - thru the gated entry was our hotel. It was protected by armed guards. It was the prettiest building we had seen. A man in a white military uniform opened the door and tried to pry the bag from my hand - without success. Inside - the lobby had the most beautiful shiney woodwork - that reminded us of the museums in Washington DC when we were kids in the 50's.
In our best slowest English - I asked for a room. The very pretty - trim - host - looked but had no record of our registration. We thought we were scammed at the airport. Just then the Lulu looked down on a tablet and saw our name hand written on it. Lulu pointed to it - and was immediately given a key.
We took the old cage elevator to one of the top floors. We had a view of the courtyard - the downtown skyline - and the famous wall and parkway along the coast. The furniture was old but in well-kept condition. The wall outlets had only 2 prongs - but they did offer 110 volts of power. The marble in the bathroom was very old as were all the fixtures. The air conditioning was not on - but sprung to life with a flip of the switch.
We decided to change clothes because we were soaked from the cab ride. After a shower and faithfully following the directions on the tile in the bathroom to "hang up the towels to save energy" - we went downstairs to eat and check out the hotel.
The hotel restaurant was splendid - but they no menu. We were asked what we would like to eat by a very pretty waitress. I could only think of a "Cuban Sandwich." The waitress smiled - and after ordering drinks - she proceeded to bring a beautiful spread of food. We ate and drank - some of our apprehension and worry seemed to melt away. Looking for the hook - I was expecting to be asked for all of my cash at the end of the meal. When the meal was done - we asked for the check. The waitress bent over and whispered $15 into my ear. I thought - maybe this communisim stuff wasn't that bad.
We left the restaurant and on the right was the "showroom." The famous show from The Godfather movie was getting ready to start. Tickets were available. We were in shorts - t-shirts - and sandals. We felt uncomfortable going to the show dressed so casually. That was our first mistake. Instead we chose to walk the streets of town.
We left the hotel and protected grounds - went through the front gates - and passed the armed guards. The locals were not allowed on the hotel grounds. It seemed that the military dressed guard had a rock star status because many people seemed to gush over them.
The traffic on the street was heavy. But it was like a time warp. Old cars - trucks - and buses like a scene out of a Chicago gangster movie. One expected to see Humphrey Bogart in his hat and trench coat. "Here's looking at you sweetheart."
As we walked the street toward downtown and the coast - many heads turned to take a look at us. People started walking close - trying to slow us down. The locals would start conversations in their best English using every English idiom they could muster up.
One young couple of beautiful people cut in front of us and slowed their pace to a crawl. They started talking about places in the USA. They were polite and never touched us. But the conversation would always lead to asking for a few American dollars.
While the young couple were making their pitch - an older women came up from behind us and started admonishing the young couple. She said, "Watch out they are working you - trying to get you to give them money. American money is so valuable here. A few dollars is worth a month's pay here." After she shooed them away she told us she has family in Barbados. "All I need is a few dollars so I can visit my daughter there."
We realized that our American looks were like flypaper. No one had made an effort to touch us. We later learned that if the locals touched the guests - they could be thrown in prison without a trial. This made me much braver. But after so many beggar conversations - Lulu wanted to go back to the safety of the hotel gates. We went back changed our sweat drenched clothes - and went to the courtyard where a band was playing Caribbean music. We decided to take lots of pictures from the hotel grounds - just like the astronauts quickly took samples when they first stepped on the surface - in case they had to abort.
The next day I decided to tour the town alone. I planned to take my camera and walk as far as I could. It was morning and the locals did not approach me at all. What was the difference from yesterday - Lulu's American garb and blonde hair - the fact we were a couple - maybe I just did not looked scared anymore.
I walked in the alleys - I went into the stores. I peered into the open doors and windows. But my main occupation was the old cars.
There are lots of old cars - mostly from the 50's. All car windows were open - but the most obvious feature was all the blue oil smoke coming from the exhaust pipes. Maybe the engines were just worn out - maybe they were burning very poor fuel. The blue smoke reminded me of the vapor that filled our Cubana Air cabin the day before.
The cars usually had 7 to 8 people in them - many hanging out of the open windows. Later we found out that folks with old cars could offer sort of a gypsy cab service. They could pick up passengers and charge whatever the market would bear - Cuban pesos or American dollars. This was our first sign of capitalism.
Their mass transit system would have been outlawed just 90 miles away. Trucks with very long trailers that looked like cattle carriers had sliding doors on them to haul people. They were able to haul up to 300 people at a time. It reminded one of cattle getting off a train on the way to slaughter. But these were people - dressed in their Sunday best.
The Black Market is a way of life. There are two kinds of stores in Cuba - peso stores - and dollar stores. Peso stores have many empty shelves. They have a surplus of 50 pound bags of rice and beans. Also the shelves had plenty of rum. As I passed each store - the owner would beckon me in to spread some of that gringo wealth. The shopkeepers spoke fluent English - and not with a Southern accent.
Many people had small boards on their porches with small items on them clearly marked for sale. Simple things like a copper plumbing elbow or a door hinge were offered to the public. It is just another form of capitalism.
I watched people bartering. One man driving a 1953 Chevy tried to sell me a gallon paint can with maybe 2 inches of an odd mixture in the bottom that looked like pea soup. I quickly realized it was what he had left over from painting his car.
After a few hours of this eye opening tour - I returned to the hotel. While taking off my sweat drenched clothes I told Lulu about a visit to a tattered sign marking the doorway of a communist club meeting room. I saw playgrounds with swings and slides on concrete covered lots with groups of old folks doing a Tae Kwon Do routine.
Lulu told of her adventures at the hotel pool - with inexpensive pool drinks - and lavish service.
After two nights - we decided to leave early. Lulu wanted to cut her losses and get out of town before she was thrown in the slammer forever.
Then next morning we went down to the front desk. We asked if we could get a car - have a tour of the city - and then return to the airport. We told the desk host how we were turned off by being pestered for money.
The doorman said, "I can have a Mercedes here for you and you could tour for 3 hours." Waiting for the second shoe to drop - I asked what it would cost. He said, "$30."
He also said that for the rest of our trip no one would pester us for cash. We agreed on the price and handed him $30.
With the wave of a white gloved hand - a dark blue Mercedes sedan pulled up. It was a diesel with a 5 speed transmission. It had air conditioning and blue leather seats.
The driver's name - Felipe Lopez - was 62 years old. He spoke perfect English and was very friendly. He welcomed us aboard and asked us where they wanted to go. We said we wanted to see historic places - points of interest to tourists - hospitals - seascapes - government buildings.
He said Fidel Castro has a fleet of Mercedes sedans. He said he was one of Fidel's drivers and that Fidel sat in the very seat we were in. During times off - Felipe was allowed to use the car to earn a little cash on the side. He made it all sound so reasonable.
Felipe explained that no one would pester us from now on. The locals certainly stay clear of one of Fidel's cars. From then on - no one even took a second look at Fidel's guests. All this for $30?
Felipes took us to the museum where they had on display American planes shot down at the Bay of Pigs. We saw the tank Fidel rode into Havana when he unseated Batista. We were in factories where they were rolling real Cuban Habana cigars. We could have bought them for pennies on the dollar - but we were afraid to be arrested smuggling them home. Those cigars would have gone from the Bay of Pigs to eBay.
We sat in a park next a the statue of John Lennon. Engraved on the base in Spanish, "You may say I am a dreamer - but I not the only one." We marveled at a building with a 200 foot tall representation of Che Guevera. We saw the hospital where almost every Cuban baby is born.
Soon it was time to go to the airport. On the way Felipe told us about his travels. He said he traveled all over the Soviet Union and the USA. He said he has family in Atlanta and Chicago. Once you reach 60 in Cuba - they let you travel pretty freely if you have the money. They figure at that age - you will come back.
When we got to the airport - we hugged Felipe. He wanted no more money - but accepted a $20 tip as if he was given a lottery ticket.
The departing side of the airport was very pretty. There were lots of stores and shops selling momentos very cheaply. There were gigantic lobsters in a tank - do people really take them on a plane we thought.
The scariest part of the trip was going through the customs exit area. They separated us. We were taken to separate areas with different agents. They asked the me a few questions like, "Why are you leaving Cuba early?" and "What was your business in Cuba?"
I answered the questions truthfully and was allowed through. Then I waited for Lulu - she was not as lucky. They detained her for what seem like forever - really it was about 10 to 15 minutes. When she came out the other side she was a bit shaken. They were skeptical of her - but her answers matched my answers - and we were free to go home.
We got on the plane - relief was in Lulu's eyes. We dodged the bullet and didn't flinch when the water vapor filled our cabin at takeoff. The trip to the Bahamas seemed much shorter. After landing in Nassau - we had to pay a $50 penalty each for flying home early. We had a choice of flying home early or staying another night in Nassau for the same price. But we were too anxious to touch American soil.
After getting home - we did more research about Cuba on the Internet. Now we think we're "experts" on this place that was a mystery just 48 hours before.
We researched Cubana Air to find out that out of 354 airlines in the world - Cubana was ranked 351th with one of the worst accident rates. Next time - if there will be a next time - we would buy a package deal out of Montreal and fly on Canadian Airlines and get a generous discount on a package. Lots of Canadians vacation in Cuba all the time.
The 1950s cars in Cuba are a legend. You hear that they are perfectly restored antiques. Not so - they are buckets of rust held together with baling wire and body putty. They are brush painted with house paint. The engines are belching smoke. But they are one of the few systems of capitalism there. They are the backbone of a black market gypsy "whatever the market will bear" transportation system.
Cuba is a beautiful country. It has so many strong connections to the United States. Their Capitol Building is an exact replica of ours in Washington. At one time the United States owned Cuba but granted it freedom after the Spanish American War. If our government wants people to see communism at work - let them go there. Cuba is the poster child for reasons not togo communist.
Someday - Cuba may become part of the United States. It would a second Florida - tropical - bountiful - wonderful people - and virtually connected to us.
What is the difference between Cuba and China when it comes to communism? Nixon was praised for opening up relations with China. Maybe our President Obama will be smart enough to do it.
Just maybe when Fidel dies - more reasonable heads will prevail. "It was nice seeing communist Cuba before Fidel died."
Hopefully - President Obama will take the shroud off Cuba. If more Americans would experience how tough life is in this communist country - they would appreciate how fortunate they are to live in capitalistic USA.
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