Category: Cuba

Marcus

I’ve started this blog to share my experiences while travelling during my sabbatical. Focus on travel, food, drink, and history.

First day in Cuba: arrival to Santa Clara – September 25th 2022

It’s the red eye from Toronto. We haven’t slept since the night before. At the check-in desk the air hostess hands us a piece of paper.

Hurricane Ian is approaching Cuba. Travel is not recommended. Refunds are available.

Groggy with fatigue, we ignore it – unable to separate reality from a bad dream… 

Arrival to Santa Clara

I awake over the Caribbean. A myriad of clouds casts shadows over the sea, creating an impression of islets. Soon the real island emerges. No sign of a storm yet.

As we descend, a lush green island materialises. Bucolic and rural. A richer and deeper green than I’ve seen before. Ireland is known as the Emerald Isle, but Cuba is more deserving of the title.

There’s plenty of bureaucracy at the airport border. Our queue crawls along as the border officials meticulously check each document. Lots of young soldiers are lounging about (military service is mandatory here). It will be a common sight.

I catch a glimpse of Che Guevara‘s iconic portrait in an office adjoining passport control. This will be the first of many too.

Nearly all of our fellow tourists seem to be heading eastward to their island resort. Cayo Santa Maria. A week of all-inclusive pampering awaits them.

Instead we’re going straight to Santa Clara, Cuba’s fifth city and the spiritual home of Che Guevara.

The short taxi ride from the airport costs 25 dollars. A rip-off. Without Cuban currency nor the internet, we’re at the mercy of the driver. He’s later fussy about the state of the foreign notes – something we learn very quickly is important here. The sooner we exchange money the better.

The drive is slow. The driver weaves in and out, intimately aware of the abundance of pot-holes. I’m mesmerised by the abundance of different vehicles and vintages. From horse & carriage to a new shiny benz: it’s akin to a moving car museum that spans over a 100 years (reminding me of Foster’s car exhibition in the Guggenheim).

The home of the revolution

As we enter the city, we pass a monument to Che Guevara beside a yellow painted bulldozer mounted on a pedestal. Santa Clara is the so-called home of the Cuban revolution.

The battle of Santa Clara was a series of events in 1958 that led to the capture of the city by Che Guevara and his band of revolutionaries. The success was a pivotal moment in the two year struggle against the Batista regime. Within 12 hours, Batista had fled Cuba and Fidel Castro claimed victory.

I find out later that the yellow bulldozer was used to remove about 10 metres of train-track, which helped Che capture a train full of arms and Government soldiers. The loot – consisting of a huge amount of weaponry – was both a material and moral boost for the revolution. The original train carriages lie beside the bull-dozer as a tribute to the victory. Images and monuments of the guerilla leader and later Government minister are dotted all round the city, including his mausoleum.

First impressions of Santa Clara

We’re staying at Casa Florida in a ‘casa particular’, typically a private home that provides accommodation. Generally in Cuba, it’s a homely casa particular or an all-inclusive resort, with not much in between.

The courtyard is festooned with tropical plants. A tranquil air penetrates. The front room is full of antiques. The furnishings of the bedrooms are trapped in time. Carmen, our host, is warm and welcoming. She warns us against using banks to exchange our money (see my tips for travelling in Cuba).

Venturing out, the locals aren’t that interested in us. Tourists may not be a novelty or as we optimistically like to believe… we simply blend in. Perhaps there are other things on their mind. Since the pandemic and Trump’s rolling back of the Obama reforms, the economy has tumbled, leading to shortages and fewer viable economic opportunities. 2022 turned out to be a record year for emigration, with 1/40 of Cuba’s inhabitants arriving to the United States.

I’m surprised by how ‘Spanish’ everyone looks. It shouldn’t matter but I find it striking, thinking I’m back in Valencia. My guidebook tells me the original indigenous inhabitants, known for their peaceful nature – the Taino – were quickly wiped out after the arrival of the Conquistadors. Not much time for intermixing (unlike in Colombia).

Parque Vidal

We wander around Parque Vidal, the heart of Santa Clara. It’s a typical Spanish ‘plaza mayor’ as had been replicated all across colonial Latin America, replete with an attractive bandstand in the centre. Groups of kids mess about and flirt on the different benches. Others are immersed in their phones. I could be anywhere in the world.

A towering luminous green hotel – the Hotel Santa Clara Libre – is incongruent to the colonial architecture of the plaza, that includes the impressive neoclassical teatro de la caridad (or theatre of charity). Visible bullet holes on the hotel’s facade are a memory of the street battles between Guevera and Batista’s troops in 1958.  

Dining options

Off the plaza, we lunch at El Sol, dining on the terraza with views across the city. It’s chicken a la plancha (grill) accompanied by salad and rice & black beans, known here as moros y cristianos due to the contrasting colours. I’m fascinated that a typical Cuban dish is named after the reconquista that ended in Spain over 500 years ago.

With the exception of the green beans out of the tin that made up the ‘salad’ part, the food is more flavourful than I had expected, having been warned about Cuba’s restaurant fare in advance.

Still only with foreign currency, our waiter negotiates an exchange rate with the restaurant’s owner over the phone. 110 Cuban Pesos to 1 Canadian dollars – not bad. At least a starting point for future exchanges.

Later back at our casa, we enquire about the adjoining restaurant to La Florida, which is Santa’s Clara best recommended according to our guide book. Carmen laments that they’ve been unable to open it since the pandemic. The costs are simply too high, she tells us, comparing the prices to Switzerland, where her sister emigrated.

Back to Parque Vidal to scope out alternative dining options, I end up plumping for a simple burger from a hole in the wall. It’s served up on a greasy plate. I ask for it to go (para llevar), looking for a simple napkin as transport. No can do, no tengo, the server reponds. They don’t have any. Searching for a solution, the resourceful lads hands me a rule sheet ripped up from the account book. It’ll do. Resolvido.  

The sharing culture and a new family law

As dusk sets, Parque Vidal comes to life. Courting loves walk hand-in-hand. Parents accompany their kids as they circle the park in rented toy cars and jeeps – replicas of American and German vehicles. Beaming smiles, each child waits their turn. There’s something touching and progressive about this sharing culture, a sharp contrast to home where houses are inundated with piles of discarded toys, having briefly enjoyed the favour of the pampered children. Only to be mercilessly cast aside as they are distracted by the next shiny thing.

However, it’s slightly sad that there does seem to be an aspiration (whether newly ignited or forever lying dormant) for the consumer items that these parents nor kids will never be able to fulfil, at least on this island under this system. Or if the economy does continue to open up, perhaps a handful will be able to drive the grown up models but will the sharing system endure the changes?

The night finishes at Club Mejunje. A venue full of character, it is set amid the ruins of a roofless building. I savour our first mojitos of the trip. A drag show is scheduled for later (Cuba’s oldest official). Rafael, our bubbly waiter, tells us it’ll be busy tonight and that they’ll party under the rain if needs be – a forewarning of the coming storm?

There’s been a vote today on updating family laws: legalisation of gay marriage and more rights to adopt. We didn’t notice much voting – the voting stalls seemed to lie dormant – although we did see plenty of billboards, all advocating the Government’s side: Yes. Regardless the drag show will be the place to be.

Unfortunately there’s more negotiations on the bill. Although Rafael is friendly and charming, he ends up robbing us blind with the exchange rate- our first Cuban mojitos may be among the country’s most expensive. Note to self: exchange for Cuban currency (CAD) as soon as possible. Carmen may be able to help.

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