Meeting people
There is a travel myth, or fond desire, that going as a backpacker gets you closer to the people.
As in most of the developing world in Cuba there is no way of pretending that tall, fair-skinned, bag-carrying tourists with phones, watches and cameras are locals.
Engaging a fellow traveller; diner; hotel guest; official guide or shop keeper in conversation often yields fruitful insights but approaching a true local for information will most often result in polite, or sometimes impolite, incomprehension. Of course it may be my non-existent Spanish.
Across the developing world when spontaneously approached by a local it is virtually certain that the person earns their income ‘helping’ tourists. Your task is to guess at the degree of dishonesty involved. A simple beggar is probably the most honest. This is followed by those offering to sell a souvenir or an obvious service like accommodation; transport or sex. But at the other end of the spectrum a less specific desire to learn English; to assist with organising travel; or to show one around is generally an invitation to be seriously ‘ripped off’; or worse.
There is a substantial sex trade in Cuba. When alone in the streets, without Wendy, I was called to often and approached several times by, sometimes very beautiful, girls; on one occasion by two who attached themselves to my arms suggesting we had a good time; tempting – but no. There is also a significant gay community with open displays of same sex affection; tourists obviously involved.
According to the Lonely Planet guide the girls are more interested in a relationship than simple prostitution. They are said to see a relationship with an apparently wealthy foreigner as a way to a new life abroad.
Cubans certainly come in all shapes and sizes. While Cuba has some stunningly beautiful people and a widely diverse ethnicity there are very few locals who look like Wendy or me. When a Spanish colony Cuba was at the centre of the slave trade and many Cubans are of African origin; others are native to the Americas and some are of Spanish origin.
I was intrigued that although around a quarter of the population is Afro-Cuban, almost everyone providing services to tourists, or in apparent positions of authority, is not. This apparent racial inequality seems strange in a Marxist-Leninist utopia; particularly after travelling through the US where the airport, customs and immigration authorities and most shops have workers of mixed ethnicities; often with a black person in charge. Maybe there are some hangovers still from the bad old days.
One afternoon I was sitting in the bar area of one of the better hotels; enjoying a Mojito, the local long cocktail, and waiting for Wendy; when a uniquely Cuban vignette formed in the street beyond; framed as it was by the hotel colonnade and its potted plants.
On the wide footpath two huge Afro-Cuban women erupted into a ‘push and shove’ dispute that brought Sumo wrestling to mind; giant breasts bouncing into the open and bums a-wobble. Simultaneously a beautifully dressed girl who resembled a younger Naomi Campbell cautiously made her way around them; crossing the scene in the foreground. In the background, huge American cars from the late 1950’s passed, offering tourists a ride or just ‘cruised the block’ – straight out of ‘American Graffiti’.
