Economics With A Face

All of us just got a bad feeling from Cuba. Calle thought they should continue on to see different parts of the country, while Josephine was considering returning to Mexico. That is how much Cuba bothered her.

Em and I both felt the same way. It wasn’t simply that there was poverty and inequality, but there was a repression in the air that gave off a horrible aura. A small example is that one my favorite dishes, beef, has repulsed me during the trip. Ever since I was told that Cubans could go to jail for the crime of slaughtering a cow for meat, and that the government reserved this meat solely for tourists, I just can’t stomach the idea of eating a steak. That kind of guilt extended to all sorts of things and just leaves you feeling unsettled.

We decided to try Chinatown again for lunch, this time with a recommendation from one of Emily’s friends at work who had visited Cuba a few years back for a conference. After a little searching we found it on one of the back streets. The food was quite good. We also got to talk with our waiter for a bit about his job in this private restaurant, his former job at a government restaurant, and the difference between the two. He received his current job by coming every day to the restaurant and asking if they would hire him until they eventually did. He made about $12.50, while at the government 4-star hotel he worked at while a student he was paid roughly that amount for the entire month. “One day here… there 29 more days of work” he said in broken English, but we understood his point. He was a really nice kid and wanted to meet up with us at 11:00 that night when he got off work to talk more, but unfortunately it never worked out.

After the meal we decided to walk along the Malecon towards the American Interest Building looking for a bar to watch the sunset. Once we got down there, it was clear there were no businesses along that stretch so we caught a taxi back to the ocean side bar that the two Cuban friends of our original guide had led us to on that first night. Sitting down we realized that they had overcharged us when they went to get beer. It wasn’t much, a $1 beer, but still disheartening, although at this point not that surprising.

In a free society, people generally respect the law. This is partially because of checks and balances inherent within the system and partially because the understanding that people are mutually beneficial to one another fosters a mutual respect. This was lacking to a larger degree in Cuba than I’ve experienced in other countries. For when everything is illegal, people begin to detest all law, including those that are the basis for a stable society. When I asked one young man what would happen when Castro dies, like many he answered that he didn’t know, but added that he was afraid that maybe many people might die. If his fear becomes a reality, this might be one of the reasons.

At the table next to us a woman had a 6 week old Dalmatian puppy. She let us hold it and tried to convince us that if we were to buy it for $60 we’d have no problem taking to back to our countries of origin. As the girls played with the dog, the woman showed me a credit card that said “Caribbean Transfers” asking if I knew of the company. Her daughter in the U.S. had just sent it to her as a way I’m guessing to avoid the limitations on the amount of money that could be sent to family members by the Bush administration, and the 10% fee on dollar transfers by Castro.

As night fell we watched a ceremonial firing of a cannon from the armory across from the Malecon. We were told it’s been done since Spanish times to signal the city gates were closing. Afterwards we headed out for some dinner at another restaurant that Emily’s friend had recommended. When the girls wanted ice cream at the end of the meal, the waiter said they had none due to the long power outages since the hurricane. He added that power was still out in his neighborhood, Zona Playa, which is actually where Em and I are headed tomorrow.

To end the night we all headed back to our hotel to have a few more beers, while Calle and Josephine told some hilarious stories about their trip over the last few months. The next table over, two Americans were arguing over a film they were making on Cuba. They loudly went back and forth about “blanket criticism” and the theme of the film which was that the revolution’s original ideology had gone astray. Personally, we wanted to avoid discussing the merits of a state where clearly more criticism would be a good thing. After Calle and Josephine left Em and I just headed up to bed.

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