Economics With A Face

Additionally, I’ve kept up over the years on news coming out of the communist state. Everyone knows that life isn’t easy on the island. Cuba is a third world country where most of its government’s policies guarantee it will remain as such. I knew that despite a guarantee of food for every Cuban, after the collapse of the Soviet Union people were starving. I had also read that although healthcare was supposedly a right, ordinary Cubans had very limited access to medicine. And how could one ignore the thousands of Cubans who risk their lives at sea to reach Florida on what could hardly be called boats. (Click here for some recent statistics about Cuba under Castro’s rule).

Of course, I also understood that oppression was inherent within the regime. Political prisoners had existed since the days of the revolution. In 2003 Castro had added 70 more high profile cases to this number throwing journalists, poets, and librarians behind bars. To keep up on these events Mary O’Grady′s column in the Wall Street Journal was a great source on Friday mornings at work. She is one of the few columnists that keeps the repression within Cuba in the mainstream press.

Despite my research on Cuba, one thing that was unclear was what kind of contact I would be able to have with Cubans as a foreigner. I had read in a manual for working with the democracy movement in Cuba that dissidents welcomed contact with international visitors. Talking with various people about this idea during my week long trip drew different opinions. Some strongly encouraged me to do so, while others advised me I might be putting these Cubans in further danger. The last thing I wanted to do was putting anyone’s safety in jeopardy so I decided it was not worth the risk. Still, I scribbled down on a random page of my Lonely Planet Guide the address of dissident economist Martha Roque in case it did look feasible once I was inside Cuba.

Landing in Havana my nerves were a bit on edge. As a strong believer in small constitutional government, individual rights, and the idea your life is your own (not a means for the state to accomplish its ends), Castro’s government in theory stood against all these core principles. My first experiences lived up to my expectations. My bag was held up at the airport for 2 hours because I had a video camera packed inside. After a long wait standing in the declaration line during which I watched Cubans’ luggage torn apart to reveal them bringing in over-the-counter medicine and other supplies, it was finally my turn to have my belongings searched. The customs agent did not seem concerned that I might sell the camera in the country, but instead wanted to make sure that I was a tourist and did not have friends or family inside Cuba. It was the type of atmosphere I had expected.

But shortly afterwards one of my first interactions with Cubans threw me for a bit of a loop. I had expected that dealing with employees of the government, which of course is the largest employer in Cuba, would be similar to dealing with employees of the DMV back in the States. After all, what incentive did people have to please the consumer if this was not who they ultimately answered to? On top of that I had a U.S. passport, which I thought might be a turnoff to many. These assumptions turned out to be proved inaccurate.

Although it was now 2:30am in the morning, the men at the state travel agency in the airport were astonishingly friendly and helpful. They joked, laughed, and put us as ease as they diligently called all around the city trying to find us the best deal for a hotel once we learned that the hotel we had in mind was booked. They knew it was important to find us a cheap place since, as Americans, we could only spend what we carried in cash. Yet they wanted to make sure were still in a good location so we would enjoy the trip. Instead of the DMV, it felt like we were dealing with employees of a 5-star hotel. The only difference was that once a hotel was found they made sure I knew that the price they had secured didn’t include their tip, so maybe there were some incentives involved after all. Still, I was impressed.

Throughout the week I would have many more interesting experiences with people in Cuba that truthfully defined the trip.

The next day for example, only a few blocks from the hotel, I found myself in a living room that had been transformed into a private restaurant. It was here that I had some of the most interesting conversations of the trip. I had expected Cubans to be tight lipped and fearful when talking to a foreigner about their government. But in this small room, far removed from the street, they had no problems voicing their discontent. Here is an excerpt from my daily log:

Things are bad here they made clear, and not only because of the poverty. “The tourists stay in the hotels and don’t know how we really live,” they stressed.

Twice during the lunch strangers entered the paladar. The owner, who was now posted outside the room, would make conversation with them as they approached and our conversation would quiet. Each time someone entered there seemed to be an awkward feeling in the room, but soon they would start talking amongst themselves and before long the conversation had returned to normal.

They told us their salaries. Our guide, who had remained relatively quiet during the conversation, occasionally translating words or phrases we might miss, made $10 convertibles a month cleaning offices; the same cost as our lunch. The enfermero made $14. “You can’t live off this salary,” they said.

An older man who had entered the restaurant started up a conversation with the others about three young girls in one of the apartments below. Their mother was currently in jail for crime of approaching a tourist at the beach and asking for money. The man said “Fidel says there are millions of children in the world homeless and going hungry, but not one resides in Cuba. Yet look, there are three one floor below.” This reminded me of an acquaintance who had used Fidel’s same line years ago when we were debating the merits of Communism.

They talked about how while the medical care was free, no one could afford the medicine, and thus, what good was it? When I asked what would happen if we were to have this conversation on the street the enfermero told me he would be labeled as a counter-revolutionary and thrown in jail. They talked about how in the countryside the people had it worse, yet these were the same people that cheered Fidel and loved him the most. When I asked why they said it was something psychological, that they have nothing and he gives them something. In the capital, like in any capital in the world, people have more exposure to the outside world, and with this came more discontent.

It continued. They talked about how they thought the children were not getting enough to eat, how it was illegal to eat beef, and that people could be thrown in prison for owning and slaughtering a cow. “We’re like India,” the enfermero told me, “but without the religion.” “Young boys need protein,” he said, and he thought kids were not growing as they should be.

Some talked of relatives in the U.S. and how much better life was there. When I asked if they had the money and wanted to use the internet, could they? They said no. When I said that some people in the U.S. think Castro does many things well they scoffed loudly with looks of disgust on their face and simply said that these people don’t understand how life really is in Cuba.

I don’t remember every bit of the conversation but the message was clear: things are bad here, we’re denied rights the tourists have, and the outside world doesn’t know how we really living. At one point the enfermero looked me in the eyes and spoke slowly to make sure I understood: “Your system is not perfect,” he told me “but our system is much worse.” That summed up the conversation.

Like many tourists we also had firsthand experiences with Jineteros, young Cuban men who leeched onto tourists acting as guides for free drinks or some cash. I had read how this was a common practice and thus didn’t mind treating a guide and his friends to a few drinks. But I was also caught off guard by the dishonest tactics of a few we encountered later on in the trip.

Still, I sympathize with many of these young men my age. They were trapped in dead-end jobs that locked them out of any contact with tourists and the money they brought in tow. This money was the only source of a better life and so they picked up a little English, Italian, and French to try to improve their lives. Another experience that increased my empathy towards them, as well as shook me up a good deal, was watching three of these young men arrested for the crime of talking to an undercover policeman disguised as a tourist.

It was soon apparent that there was a sort of division between those who were employed in the government hotels and restaurants and those like the Jineteros who were not. While friendly, the hotel employees seemed more reserved and less willing to talk beyond surface conversations. But during my week in Havana Hurricane Dennis hit the island. This meant that once the power went out in the city, for several hours many hotel employees and guests were stuck in the lobby together listening to radio reports as the wind howled outside. This gave me an opportunity to actually have some meaningful conversations with a few of the workers. We talked about everything from sports, to their family members in the U.S. and my life there, to how they too were unsatisfied with their lives on the island. Once again I found people just like me, yet forced to live their lives in a less than ideal situation.

An additional enlightening interaction with Cubans came in our final days of the trip when we stayed in the suburbs of the city at another casa particular. Our hosts wanted to make sure that we got to see another side of Cuba to which we had not yet been exposed. It was another interesting and passionate talk. The point was not that life was perfect in Cuba, it wasn’t, but instead that it is not as bad as they felt it was portrayed by the U.S. media. And the comforts they enjoyed, partially thanks to their license that allowed them to rent out a room in their house, partially proved this point. A television, VCR, a nice apartment, and most surprisingly to me cell phone that was mainly used to send emails back and forth to family in the U.S. gave the appearance of a normal life back home.

They were also very critical of the U.S. immigration policy towards Cuba. They pulled out passports to show how they had been denied visas by the U.S. government to visit a niece for her high school graduation. It was proof to them that the U.S. wanted the image of immigrants risking their life at sea to stress how horrible life was in Cuba. Why, they asked, if the concern was for the Cuban people would they not let her simply fly to the United States if this was something the Cuban government was willing to let her do? While I was only in this suburb of the city for two days it gave me a different perspective on the country.

To add yet one more perspective, sitting in the Havana airport just prior to leaving the island, I met an employee of the U.S. Interest Section who was on the same flight. When he heard that I used to work for an economist he said in his prior job he was given the task of attempting to teach free-market economics to congressmen and congresswomen on the Hill. I enquired about his employer and had to chuckle when he said he worked for the Cato Institute. Not surprisingly, in our brief chat he offered a view of the island from a unique perspective, especially with regards to immigration. He explained to me a lottery system that allowed some of the half-million Cubans who had applied for amnesty with the U.S. Interest Section years ago to immigrate to the U.S. It goes without saying that, like me, he was no fan of Castro.

While the descriptions above in no way cover all the conversations and people I met in Cuba, they do give a decent overview of some of the people on the island that helped to form my experience. Spending just one week in the country in many ways opened up more questions than it provided answers that I was seeking. Nonetheless, it was time and money well spent. The biggest benefit I gained from the trip was that Cuba’s problems are now very personal. News stories coming out of Cuba are no longer simply names in an article, but are now, very clearly, real people suffering under an unjust government.

Once I had left Cuba, and began relaying my experience to others, I quickly realized that it was a subject that aroused deep emotions. There has been plenty of criticism.

Some have thought that I went into Cuba with a negative view of its Communist government and did not report in an evenhanded fashion. Others don’t directly challenge my experience, but instead immediately defend Cuba by quickly changing the subject to how much worse life would is in other countries, or how the U.S. itself is hardly a role model in many regards. Still others find my negative assessment of aspects of Cuba so to their displeasure that they chose to simply ignore it altogether.

Of course, my belief that Communism is an immoral form of governance did not make grey police vans appear out of thin air to haul away young Cubans for speaking to tourists, nor did it create the discontent that was apparent in so many conversations. As for changing the subject of the discussion, or ignoring my reporting completely, all I can say is that these tactics don’t alter the wrongs I did experience in the country.

It’s a little peculiar how many good-intentioned people insist on defending a system I know they deep down must oppose. If the leader of Cuba was named Bush instead of Castro there is no way they would stand for 46 years of rule without an election, of a government-run press, or of the jailing of people who speak out against the regime. I know these defenses partially stem from a desire to find some sort of an alternative to U.S. capitalism. Still, it is no excuse.

Castro does his best to get people to play right into his hands, and many do just that. The government papers read of Cuba’s organic farming projects, new graduates from medical school, and wage increases for healthcare workers and teachers. Cuba’s defenders know that all these things are good and I think many start to believe that these ends signify they can ignore the means. Castro’s hope, and it seems to work, is that by the time tourists get to the last page of the paper that justifies jailing independent librarians, all the good press will be enough of a reason to turn a blind eye to such a violation of basic rights. Again, there is no rationale for not seeing through this kind of propaganda.

On the other hand, not everyone has been as critical. A few weeks after the trip while describing some of my experiences to classmates in Mexico, one student in the class, who had lived the first 27 years of her life in the Soviet Union, had quite a different reaction. “That’s why I have no desire to go to Cuba,” she told the class. “I experienced those same things for too many years: not being allowed to speak with tourists, arrests for trivial offenses, repression of all sorts. There are just too many other places in the world I want to see before heading back to a place like that.”

Many others take a genuine interest after initially not really knowing much about Cuban life. “I’ve always wanted to go to Cuba,” I’ll hear. But in the next breath, after I’ve relayed some of my stories, they say “Wait, what do you mean there isn’t a free press?” or “What do you mean businesses were illegal prior to 1993?” Afterwards, it usually proceeds into some thoughtful conversations.

Another positive reaction is the response from Mexicans we’ve met during our travels through the country. Many of these people consider themselves left-of-center politically, but unlike some Americans, they don’t associate being left-of-center with the need to defend socialism. They already know a quite a bit about how difficult life can be in Cuba, are interested in the topic, and truthfully appreciate a first hand account of the island.

None of this is to say that one week in Havana somehow makes me an expert on the country. It’s clear to me being a foreigner and spending only a week in the country limited what I could see and, at times, I was in a little in over my head. Still, the interactions I had in Cuba were real and nothing can change that fact. While some might be put off by my reporting thinking I put Cuba in too negative of a light, in some ways I think it is just the opposite. If anything my daily travelogue only scratches the surface of the repression that exists in Cuba.

For example, one of my biggest regrets is not meeting with dissidents inside the country. These are the people who feel the wrath of Castro’s dictatorship most directly for simply daring to criticize the regime. The stories of those who Castro wishes to silence the most certainly would have been insightful and is something my reporting lacks.

Case in point, ten days after I left the country, Martha Roque, the economist whose address I secretly carried but was not able to meet with, was arrested at her home in Havana. She and along with 20 other Cubans were taken to prison for planning a small public demonstration. Shortly afterwards she was freed but 10 of the original 20 that were arrested still remain in prison. What would she have had to tell me about life in Cuba? How does she feel living under a system that has provided her with a free education, but then throws her in jail when she uses that education to think freely?

I would love to travel back to Cuba and ask her personally. Unfortunately, I still don’t know how it would affect her safety. In addition, after the publication of my travelogue and articles I have doubts I’d be let back into the country. I’ll have to wait until Castro’s regime falls, which won’t happen a day too soon.

Still, I’m an optimist. As I said at the beginning of the essay I did not find the country I expected. Instead of finding a country whose citizens live under the complete control of a dictator, I found people willing to exchange ideas, form their own opinions, and criticize the regime that would prefer they be muzzled.

In short, Castro doesn’t have enough guns to completely stifle all the freedoms he would like to suppress. That can only bode well for the future of the country and the changes it will undoubtedly soon face. These freedoms will be needed to make a Cuban government “of the people, by the people, and for the people.” The Cubans I met during my trip deserve nothing less.