Cuba (2022)
Inhalt/Content
Santa Clara
Address information in Cuba can be quite tricky. You often receive three street names: the street where the desired building is located and two streets branching off from that street, marking the sought-after section. This, coupled with the fact that the streets can be quite long, sometimes makes finding addresses challenging. This is why we ended up being dropped off at the completely wrong end of Santa Clara. After about half an hour of walking, we finally stood in front of the booked accommodation, and a friendly older lady named Elida opened the door for us. She had a small annoyingly barking dog named Neri, who was not at all pleased with our visit.
Carlos, our actual host and Elida’s son, was still at work but called shortly after to ask if everything was okay. He spoke clear English and seemed enthusiastic and friendly. I took the opportunity to ask him how we could best get to Camagüey, our next destination. We planned to stay only one night in Santa Clara and then travel further east. He recommended either taking the train or using the local bus company Viazul.
We didn’t stay long at the accommodation and headed directly to the train station. Yes, there was a train, but it departed at midnight, and there were no options to pay for the tickets with a credit card. Since the bus station was on the other end of the city, we decided to hitch a ride on a sort of motorbike delivery van. We were finally out of Trinidad, which had a very positive impact on our mood.
At the bus station, we not only got bus tickets but could also pay for them with a credit card! The only catch was that the bus was leaving at 03:55 AM, and there was the somewhat peculiar rule that you had to check in at the counter 2 hours before, or the tickets would expire. We never quite understood this rule entirely, but well, it was manageable. So, we had to be at the bus station just before 02:00 AM.
There was a small cafeteria at the bus station selling burgers and delicious juice for just a few CUP. We happily indulged ourselves. Kevin had had breakfast in Trinidad, but for me, it was the first meal of the day, although my stomach seemed to be back to normal.
At Che Guevara’s grave
The most significant attraction in Santa Clara is probably the Monumento Memorial Che Guevara, a memorial site dedicated to Che Guevara, where his grave is located. Entry is free, but visitors are not allowed to bring bags, and there is a strict no photography policy inside the museum and the tomb, so we could only take a few pictures from the outside. At the top, there was a large statue of Che Guevara, while below it housed the museum and the tomb. The museum displayed some of Che’s personal belongings, and in the tomb, there were other liberation fighters laid to rest. The cult of personality is incredibly strong in Cuba, but it was definitely worth visiting this place.
What’s wrong with Carlos?
On the way back, we passed by a large MLC store, which seemed to be the only one open. The smaller stores appeared to be closed, and it was not clear how long this situation had been ongoing. Back at the accommodation, we finally met Carlos in person. He greeted us warmly, but there was something odd about him. I spoke to him in Spanish, but he insisted on speaking English with us. The first thing he asked was if we had managed to organize our journey to Camagüey. We confirmed this and explained everything, including the fact that we had to be at the bus station shortly before 2:00 AM. He nodded and listened attentively. When I had finished explaining, he said, “Good, but the most important thing is: have you found a way to get to Camagüey?” Kevin and I looked at each other, somewhat confused, suspecting that the issue might be with the language barrier after all. I explained the whole situation again in Spanish. We still had our cash problems. Since Carlos was our first AirBnB host in Cuba, we hoped for some openness regarding technology and asked if it was possible to exchange money via PayPal. He said he couldn’t offer this, but he was part of a Telegram group for Santa Clara where a small black market for currency exchange had emerged. He offered to inquire there for us. We made the generous offer that we were willing to exchange 200€ through this method into CUP. In a country where the monthly average income was recently around 50€, this was a considerable amount of money. We definitely wanted to make a good impression on Carlos, so we also accepted the option of having dinner with him. After a short while, Carlos contacted us excitedly: someone had responded and was willing to exchange at a rate of 1:115. Finally! The joy, however, was short-lived because it turned out that the person would only exchange cash and not through PayPal. I explained everything again in Spanish, although he still insisted on speaking English. Together, we formulated another message for the Telegram group, making it clear that we wanted to exchange money without using cash. Shortly after, Carlos called me enthusiastically on my phone: “Someone has agreed to exchange at a rate of 1:120. When should he come to exchange the money?” I became increasingly skeptical and asked again about PayPal. “Oh, I didn’t realize you couldn’t exchange cash. Well, I’ll ask, but it probably won’t work.” Kevin, sitting next to me, was losing his patience. Soon after, dinner was served. Carlos wished us bon appétit and said he would clear the plates and the leftover food (we had our own small kitchen where the food was served) later. We ate in silence. After that, I got dressed and went to all the nearby open MLC stores. I knew it was illegal, but I went into each store as soon as there were no customers, leaned forward to the cashier, and asked quietly if they could exchange money. This is Cuba; you have to resort to criminal activities to survive. Unfortunately, I received a rejection in every single store. Slowly, I realized that the store in Trinidad was an exception, not the rule. Exhausted, I sat down on a park bench, and in the next moment, it hit me, and I cried like a little child. What had become of this country? Just a few years ago, it was a paradise. I had been through some very tough months professionally, and the only thing that had kept me going during my everyday life was the anticipation of this vacation, and now this… I don’t know how long I sat there, utterly miserable. Eventually, I pulled myself together and went back to the accommodation. The plates and the leftovers were still in the kitchen. In the meantime, Kevin had counted our cash, and it didn’t look good. We had 10,000 CUP and about 250€ left. It wasn’t a small amount, but it was too little for the remaining 14 days. Exhausted, we went to sleep, knowing the night would be short anyway. The hardships at least allowed me to fall asleep quickly, but Kevin lay awake in bed. At 10:00 PM, the power went out, and the air conditioning fell silent. Just before 1:00 AM, the power returned, and precisely at 1:00 AM, the alarm went off. The plates and the leftovers were still in the kitchen, and flies were starting to gather around them.
We grabbed our belongings, went downstairs, and suddenly found ourselves in front of a locked door. Kevin finally lost his temper: “This can’t be happening! We explained it to him multiple times in two languages!” Elida, awakened by the noise, came out and asked what was going on at such a late hour. We didn’t have time; we had to get to the bus station. Away from here! She knocked on one of the doors, and Carlos came out. “I didn’t know you had to leave in the middle of the night.” “We told you multiple times yesterday, what’s going on?” Kevin shouted at him. Carlos opened the door, and we stormed out without looking back.
We walked briskly to the bus station in Santa Clara. The walk took about half an hour, but we couldn’t afford to pay for a taxi, even though taxis and horse-drawn carriages occasionally pulled up next to us. While the drivers weren’t at fault, they still received a firm and dismissive “No!” from us each time. Both of our moods were at an all-time low. In some streets, we had to use our phone lights because the power seemed to still be out in those areas. Fortunately, the crime rate in Cuba is surprisingly low, so it wasn’t particularly dangerous to be out at this time. At least that aspect still seemed to work in this country.
Upon arriving at the bus station, we were greeted with a rare positive surprise: in the Viazul office, which was hardly open even during the day, there was a man. Although we had to wake him up, he checked us in and handed us our boarding passes for the bus. Exhausted but relieved that at least this seemed to be functioning, we settled down in the large waiting hall. The only light here came from an old tube television mounted on the wall, emitting the sounds of some old action movies with crackling speakers. However, nobody was really watching the films. Most people were lying on the benches, attempting to catch some sleep. On the walls, there were propaganda posters thanking Cuban doctors for their efforts during the COVID-19 pandemic. Next to them were missing persons posters. I doubted that the people in the photos had really fallen victim to a crime. Most probably were just trying to escape to a better life.
Our bus surprisingly arrived on time, and we were the only two people boarding in Santa Clara. We had seats in the second row, but foreigners were placed in the first row. While I tried to catch some sleep, Kevin struggled to rest. There was hardly any legroom, and the ceiling was so low that Kevin’s head almost touched it. There were two drivers, allowing them to take turns and have breaks. However, one of them was a very loud snorer, making it challenging to fall asleep. The driver change finally happened at 6:00 AM. Even during the night, there were people by the roadside. Most of them waved at the bus, asking to be taken along, and some were allowed to board. How the driver selected who could join remained unclear to us until the end. Additionally, there were several stops at food stalls or rest areas. With the rising sun, we approached our next destination: Camagüey.
