Thoughts on Being an American in Cuba
Most people believe it is illegal for Americans to travel to Cuba. In fact, Americans can travel to Cuba legally. What we cannot do legally is spend any money there, as doing so would violate the long-standing Trading With The Enemy Act, issued in 1963. Our legal penalty for disregarding this embargo is extreme: up to 12 years in prison, and fines of up to $250,000. Practically speaking, therefore, it is impossible for the average American to visit Cuba, since you must pay the Cuban visa fee upon entry, plus lodging, food, transportation, etc, while in the country. A couple exceptions to the embargo for an American are to travel for work, sports, aid, as a journalist, or -- as in my case -- as a crew member on a foreign boat. In my case, I was Ulf's "employee," on duty in Cuba, assisting the operation of Sea Quill. All expenses relating to my "work" in Cuba were paid by Swedish national, Capitan Ulf, including my visa fees, food, and transportation costs. For the record, I bought nothing: not a bottle of water, not a tomato, not one souvenir.
Without exception, every Cuban that I met was welcoming and gracious towards me, despite my country's history with theirs, which includes many documented assassination attempts on Castro by the CIA, an attempted military invasion, and a long-standing, aggressive embargo that is almost universally condemned by other nations, and which contributes to make living conditions for the average Cuban more than challenging. An irony that will surprise no one is that despite aggressive tactics taken by the U.S. government to discourage other countries from doing business with Cuba, products from prominent U.S. multi-nationals -- Coca-Cola and Marlboro, to name a couple -- are widely sold in the few Cuban cities that have any commercial resources.
Of course, scores of Americans have found ways to travel to Cuba over the past 50 years, and cases of the U.S. government actually prosecuting and enforcing the embargo are rare. That the U.S. turns a blind eye to prosecuting most Americans (and American corporations) who break the embargo is further indication of its injustice, i.e. if Cuba were in actuality a threat to the United States, presumably, our "anti-terrorist" government would prosecute vociferously; if average American tourists were widely jailed and fined for visiting an essentially non-aggressive, neighboring country, the American public might begin to question the basis and morality of the embargo.
Some people will argue that Castro's human rights record is reason enough for the embargo. But without making excuses for Castro, I would point to the hypocracy of the U.S. policy to continue penalizing Cuba, while allowing -- and indeed, widely encouraging -- business and travel in China. There is little evidence in the history of U.S. foreign relations over the past 50 years that human rights are truly a consideration to the U.S. government.
While our perception of Cuba may be rosy following some idyllic months of meeting nice people in beautiful places, we are not blind to obvious problems with the country's economy and politics. There is a forceful party line pro-Castro, pro-Revolutionary propaganda throughout Cuba, yet a notable absence of dissenting opinions or discussion. In every Cuban home we visited, no matter how poor or basic, there was a television set front and center in the living area, and very often it was a brand new Samsung. This, in a country where people can't get shoes or soap. When we commented on the nice TVs that so many people had, one Cuban friend explained ingenuously that the government makes television sets available to the people especially cheap, at well subsidized prices, because "television is the center of the home." Cubans might discuss their own economic hardships with us, but those conversations never turned into political discussions. Not once. Cubans are silent about the government and the leadership. There was, everywhere, an unspoken, but obvious, agreement not to discuss the leadership at all.
Many people we met were more open about the difficulty of making ends meet on meager salaries, which are the equivalent of US $10-30 per month (about $10 for a fisherman, $20 for a general doctor, $30 for a surgeon or specialist). Medicine and education are free; housing, food, clothing, and even haircuts are distributed through rationing or are heavily subsidized. However, it was clear that Cuban salaries are not enough to provide any luxuries. The few people who have some money (i.e. those with relatives in other countries, or those working in tourism -- the most lucrative professions in Cuba today because of foreign tipping), have nowhere to buy things they want, whether basic or luxury. And of course, they cannot travel abroad, except as a representative of Cuba, or as a doctor or teacher in an aid-exchange program. Most telling of the personal and human rights situation in Cuba, perhaps, are the numbers of Cubans so desperate to leave that they risk life, limb and imprisonment trying to escape, paired with the Guarda's obvious mania to enforce the border.
The picture we got of Cuba is complicated. Almost without exception, Cubans we met were well-nourished, healthy, fit and educated. There were no beggars (except for a few in Havana and Cienfuegos, touristic places, and these beggars were quite "professionalized"). There was no drug abuse at all that we could see. Nor was there endemic alcoholism. There was no apparent crime at all, besides the ubiquitous black market in food basics like eggs and fish. We could not help but compare the status of Cubans we saw and met, with the status of Dominicans and Jamaicans (not to mention poor Americans). In terms of health, education and social welfare, Cubans seem far ahead. However, in the course of two months, a handful of different Cubans whispered to us how terrible their country was, how desperately they wanted to leave. To my surprise, when asked why, each of these people noted the difficult economy, and lack of access to products they either need or want, rather than a desire for "freedom." In the event of a political change -- which may be inevitable, less because of Castro's death, than because of the influx of information, viewpoints, and money that come into Cuba through tourism, Cubans seem extremely well poised for success, in the capitalist sense.
Less likely to succeed in a post-Castro era are the healthy ecology and diverse wildlife of this nearly undeveloped country. To American eyes, Cuba is a miracle of unspoiled nature, improbably close to the paved and malled expanse of the U.S. Nor is Cuba green simply because it is barely developed. In less developed countries we've visited, it has been our experience to see a lot more pollution and deforestation, along with fewer protected natural areas. Indeed, Cubans we met -- and the rules we encountered -- demonstrated an enlightened eco-consciousness (the "oil incident" in Santiago, notwithstanding). For the sake of the Cuban people, we hope that the future will bring more personal freedom and economic opportunity, but hopefully not at the expense of their rich environment.
It seems worth mentioning that throughout Cuba we experienced great generosity and helpfulness. People were seemed concerned for our welfare and surprisingly unconcerned about profiting from us (the only exception we found was in touristic Havana). There was a feeling of community, and equally notable, there was an absence of that common feeling travellers have in lots of places (not least the U.S.) of being just a walking dollar sign. Our gifts of soap, fishing hooks, school supplies, or clothing, were genuinely appreciated. And we dearly appreciate gifts we were given of fruit, vegetables, water, and hospitality. They never felt like transactions, dependent upon an exchange of valuables. Rather, in Cuba it seemed like the natural thing to do -- to give a helping hand, to share what you have, to accept the gift of something you need.
