Economics With A Face

We landed in Cancun at 10:05am with our flight leaving to Havana at 8:10pm. It would be another long leg in the airport. Since the trip was planned at the last minute, after we had received our licenses from the Office of Foreign Asset Control, we were unable to get on a direct flight from Tijuana to Havana. Instead, and at the last minute, we had to fly through Cancun and there had been no time to get the paper tickets sent up to California. So our travel agent in the U.S. had given us a sealed envelope full of cash with the company we were supposed to hand it to written on the front.

Once in Cancun we asked around and the company did exist, but their agent didn’t show up until around 5:00pm. It’s 4:20pm right now and I have just gone through a major cash transaction where I exchanged a large about of dollars for Mexican pesos in order to avoid a 10% penalty for exchanging dollars in Cuba. This, in addition to a horrible exchange rate, means that if we bring dollars into Cuba were going to “spend” 20% of our money before any purchases. And we have to bring in cash for all our expenses for the week as due to the embargo we can’t use any ATMs or banks to take out money. Nor can we just keep our money in dollars and use this for transactions as people did prior to November 2004. Since then, Castro has banned the use of the dollar in the Cuba and introduced the convertible which initially traded at par with the dollar, but now, by Castro decree, it trades at $0.92 for each new peso. So hopefully we’ll save some money by bringing in Mexico pesos. We’ll soon find out.

CONTINUED…

It’s 2:17am and we just have checked in to our hotel in Havana, but I’ll pick up where I left off.

At 6:30pm, after a quick dinner and a Margarita for me and a Bloody Mary for Em, we found our contact for Cuba, who confirmed we were on the flight and gave us the tickets. We made our way to get our boarding passes, but the lady at the counter had no problem showing her irritation when she learned that we didn’t have our tourist visas for Cuba. We had to run back to another counter in a different part of the airport to get them, but when we arrived at the counter there was no one working. Luckily, the attendant that had just gone on a break saw that we were in a panic and came back to help us out. Anyway, we finally got our boarding passes issued and headed for the plane.

When we sat down in our seats on the plane I told Em that I couldn’t believe that we had made it this far basically glitch free. The night before, sitting in the Tijuana airport, I just couldn’t believe that in 24 hours we would be in Cuba. But there we were, sitting on a plane ready to take off.

Em pointed out that we only had three more hurdles to get over 1) get through customs, 2) exchange our Mexican pesos (hopefully without a penalty for having U.S. passports), and 3) find a hotel since we didn’t have reservations.

Truthfully, as we were flying into Cuba I was nervous. I knew that we would be fine as I’ve known people who have traveled to Cuba in the past, but entering a Communist state scared me. I really didn’t know what to expect, but I knew that aspect would not be a pleasurable experience, and as such I was on edge.

Needless to say a 30 minute nap on the plane did me well. My nerves calmed down as I opened my eyes to see the sparsely lit outskirts of Havana. At first I attributed this to power outages that I knew were frequent in the city, but it could have just as well been a rural area. It was too dark to know for sure.

After landing at 10:00pm, we proceeded to immigration and maneuvered in the line behind the only other backpackers on the plane apart from us. They were from Sweden and I started to get a little nervous when I saw how long it took for the guy my age to get through. Finally he made it, then his girlfriend made it through, and then Emily was up. As she walked forward, in the line next to us an elderly Hispanic woman (I’m guessing of Cuban decent) with a U.S. passport and a 7 year old boy in tow, was told by the various officials that were scrutinizing her passport that she couldn’t get through. As she was turned away I figured this was not a good omen for us getting through hassle free. Luckily I was wrong.

To my surprise, while we endured the same long stares from the immigration official, he let us both through without a word. We breezed through the first security checkpoint and headed off to find our luggage and to exchange our money.

As I explained previously, I had exchanged nearly all our dollars into Mexican pesos in order to avoid the 10% penalty. Walking up to the teller I thought I had made a mistake as they did not list a Mexican peso exchange rate, but luckily it was not a problem. Since it was the only place I’d be able to do so, I also exchanged the few dollars that I had kept. She apologized when she told me there would be an additional fee for dollars, but obviously it was not her fault.

Our bags took forever to come but eventually Em spotted hers on the carousel. Still no sign of mine. After a good hour of checking the different carousels thinking it might have come out somewhere else I finally spotted it. Through the flaps where the luggage appeared I could see that my backpack had been set aside with about 5 other bags. Another 45 minutes passed and I saw him make his was over to my bag, take a bunch of notes, and then walk away for another 30 minutes. I didn’t know what all the fuss was about but I figured it had to do with the fact that I had a video camera in the bag, that or it was the copy of my book on free-market economics, Human Action, by Ludwig von Mises.

Finally, he made his way over and tossed it onto the carousel. As we gathered our things and walked through the “Nothing to Declare” line I was grabbed by the shoulder and told I would have to head back and wait in the declaration line. After another 20 minute wait, I was at the front of the line. There were 4 custom agents going through bags laid out on the tables before them. When I was called up I walked past a middle aged woman whose emptied suitcase contained nothing but over-the-counter medicine. More proof that while healthcare was free in Cuba, medicine was not.

The agent, a man a few years older than myself, asked: “Do you have any electronics?” in Spanish. Obviously they had seen the video Camera in my bag and had marked the tag.

“Yes, I have a video camera” I replied, also in Spanish. Since, I new that was what they had seen I forgot to mention that I also had a laptop in the small bag across my chest, in addition to a MP3 player and a digital camera. But he didn’t seem too interested in my smaller bag and by the time I remembered I decided it was best just keep quiet and play dumb if they did check it.

“Are you a tourist?” he asked as I emptied my large bag across the table. I kept the economics book cover down as I set it aside. “Yes”

“Do you have any family in Cuba?” he continued. “No,” I answered.

“Do you know anyone in Cuba?” he asked. I hesitated slightly before I replied I didn’t, as what first came to my mind is that I had the name and address of a friend of a friend’s mother who we were considering staying with later on in the trip (yes, I know, I’d make a horrible undercover agent). He didn’t notice the hesitation though and continued to go through my stuff.

Finally, he said I could leave and helped me to repack my bag as best we could. As we entered the main terminal I stopped to organize my disheveled backpack when a taxi driver approached us. We asked if he could take us to Hotel Colina, a place that was relatively cheap at $54 a night. But when the driver found out that we didn’t have reservations he suggested we head back into the airport to make them.

Right before we reached the reservation office he asked in a low voice if we would prefer a casa particular, a private room in a residence that would be much cheaper than a hotel. I said we wanted to get settled in a hotel first, and would probably change later in the week.

The guys in the office he led us to were extremely nice and had us sit down as they started making phone calls. Everything seemed to be sold out. In no time we were already calling places that charged more than $100 a night which was way above what we would be able to spend without exhausting our cash supply. A particular was looking like a better option, but I didn’t know if I could bring it up in front of everyone. But just then another worker came in and said he had found a hotel in Havana that was $48 a night. Perfect. We paid him in cash and received a reservation slip.

Our driver took us into Havana and gave us a quick tour of the city before dropping us off at the hotel. One of the biggest things that stood out during the 20 kilometer stretch to the city was that the billboards contained no advertising, only slogans and pictures praising Castro, Che, and of course the revolution. Ditto for walls where one might see graffiti.

Havana itself, even at 2 in the morning, is clearly beautiful, even if falling apart. I’m already convinced this place has the potential to be one of the most desirable places to live in the Western Hemisphere. Sad to say it’s nearly all potential as, in its current state, it’s also one of the last places I would want to be permanently confined.

Our hotel room is fine, the workers here are extremely nice, and it looks like we are in a good part of the city. It will be interesting to get to know the city in more detail tomorrow during the light of day.

(All the names of Cubans in these posts have been changed as a precautionary measure)