Cuba (2022)
Inhalt/Content
Camagüey – A humanitarian catastrophe
In Camagüey, we faced another 30-minute walk to our accommodation. Along the way, we passed a park where a sort of street festival was taking place. We made a mental note of the location and continued. When we arrived at our accommodation, we rang the bell. Nothing happened. Shrugging, we knocked on the door, and shortly after, a small, stout woman with big glasses answered. She apologized for the inconvenience. The bell wasn’t working because the power had been out for 5 hours. While talking, she seemed visibly distressed, although from the context, it quickly became apparent that there had been similar power outages in the days before. She let us in and showed us our room, which was indeed large and spacious, although very dark due to the lack of electricity. The room was connected to a bathroom and a private kitchen. The refrigerator was turned off since, thanks to the long power outage, it couldn’t fulfill its purpose anymore. “I used to offer all guests free breakfast and dinner. That’s not possible now because I don’t know where to get the food,” our host explained. Her initial distress turned into resignation, a feeling often seen in Cuba.
We also inquired about the cash situation in Camagüey. Our new hosts couldn’t offer us cash exchange through PayPal either, but they mentioned there was an international bank in the city that had Euros. With our German credit cards, we could get money there. Our hearts skipped a beat. Could Jensen from Havana be right after all in assuming we could withdraw Euros?
We tossed our backpacks into the corner of the room, where not much held our attention due to the power outage, and headed back to the street festival we had seen earlier. On the way, we passed numerous closed shops, but it was Sunday, and there was a power outage, so we didn’t think much of it. When we arrived at the park, we let ourselves be captivated by the lively atmosphere. There were plenty of stalls with incredibly expensive sweets (a chocolate bar cost 500 CUP, which would still be around 5€ even after the black market rate). There were also stands with lots of counterfeit products, including fake Yu-Gi-Oh cards. Every now and then, floats with large music speakers drove down the street.
Back in our accommodation, the electricity was slowly restored. Kevin, tired from the journey, stayed in bed, while I went out again, hoping to find a way to exchange money. Although the power was back, all the shops were still closed. For some, it was outside their opening hours, while others, for reasons not apparent to me, kept their doors locked. Among the closed shops was one of the many MLC Stores. I noticed the particularly short and unflattering opening hours. I peeked through the window and was astonished: one of the shelves was full of water bottles! Water was an absolute rarity in MLC Stores. It was a shame that this store was closed.
In the evening, we went out together again. I had found a restaurant with so-called Peso Pizza. It was one of the cheapest street foods you could get in Cuba: a small pizza for just a few pesos, which was perfect given our cash problems. However, there were some issues with the bill because the waitress made several mistakes in her calculations. It wasn’t the first time we noticed that people had trouble with arithmetic. This surprised us, considering that Cuba’s education system was supposed to be excellent. In the end, we paid 185 CUP for 2 pizzas and 3 drinks. That was the first and last thing we ate that day, making it a surprisingly affordable day. On the way back, we finally found an open MLC Store where we could at least get a pack of tissues and a can of fruit. However, we still couldn’t exchange money there.
We have to get out of here!
The next day started once again with a power outage and a struggle to open the can of fruit. Kevin had a pocket knife with a can opener, but it broke while he attempted to use it. With a borrowed can opener from our hosts, we finally managed to open the can. I found the fruit too sweet, but Kevin was happy about the fruits and the sweet syrup for breakfast. Today was Monday, and the International Bank was supposed to reopen. We went there immediately. At the entrance, there was a woman whose task was to explain to all incoming people that the bank was unfortunately closed due to the power outage. Nevertheless, we took the opportunity to ask if we could withdraw Euros with our European credit cards here. The woman went inside and came out shortly with a man who denied our request. We didn’t give up and asked if there was any other place where we could get Euros, if not at the international bank. “No.” Our mood hit rock bottom. We couldn’t withdraw Euros, and we had no way to exchange money electronically. On the way back, the city was deserted once again due to the power outage. Today, as well, all the shops were closed, and the water bottles continued to sit on the shelves of the MLC Store, untouched and inaccessible. This was a turning point. We couldn’t stay in this country any longer; we had to get out of here. Back at the accommodation, we entered our dark room without electricity, and I took out my phone to contact Condor, our airline, with the aim of rescheduling our flight. Theoretically, there were flights from Havana to Montego Bay in Jamaica, where we could continue our vacation… Theoretically! However, rescheduling proved to be more difficult than expected because the app kept giving me error messages, and I couldn’t make calls from Cuba. I was left with the WhatsApp support, which consistently ignored my messages. Desperate, I contacted my parents, asking them to call from Germany and reschedule our flight to the earliest available one. Even that proved to be far from easy: My mother got stuck in the queue for ages and was kicked out numerous times. Finally, she was told that all flights to Jamaica were fully booked. Okay, next attempt: If we couldn’t go to Jamaica, we wanted to get on the next flight to Germany from any airport in Cuba; we would find our way there somehow. Once again, my mother endured an odyssey of poor customer service. She was repeatedly removed from the queue, despite it being a paid hotline. In the meantime, we sat in our dark room, with the only source of light being my phone’s display, waiting for updates. In the end, it took several hours until we were finally rescheduled to a flight that would take us from Havana to Frankfurt three days earlier. It wasn’t as good as we hoped for, but we were grateful to leave the island as soon as possible. We calculated our remaining cash and made a plan to get by until then. Yes, it wasn’t a dream vacation, but we would manage. I still hadn’t eaten anything that day, so we ventured out into the city. Unfortunately, the Peso-Pizza restaurant was already full, but right next to it was another affordable restaurant with juice for 15 CUP and burgers for 20 CUP. It felt good to have something in our stomachs. We used the time to think about how to proceed until our departure. We had booked our accommodation in Camagüey until tomorrow, and with the power outages, we didn’t want to stay here any longer. Theoretically, we could go back to Havana directly the next day, but we both agreed that we didn’t like the city. On the other hand, people said that those who had seen Havana and Santiago de Cuba had really seen Cuba. Okay, so there should be another stop further east: Santiago. To save money on the taxi, we walked once again to the bus station. Along the way, we passed the park, which was almost deserted today. At the bus terminal, we bought bus tickets for the next morning to Santiago de Cuba. The heat was getting to Kevin, and he went home directly from the bus terminal. I wanted to see something of the city and went to the Cathedral of Camagüey (Catedral de Nuestra Señora de la Candelaria) since I had read that you could climb the church tower for a beautiful view. Two elderly women sat at the entrance and collected the entrance fee. It wasn’t expensive, but I didn’t have the exact change. When I handed the lady a banknote, she just smiled and refused. I was the only one who had ventured here today, so it was free for me. There were still positive surprises in this country. I thanked them and smiled at them, then I climbed the tower. The view was truly breathtaking. Cuba is a beautiful country, but unfortunately, this beauty is overshadowed by all the problems. How can anyone live here? Do people really live here, or are they just surviving? I understand every person who leaves this country. Today, we felt like we were on the run while rescheduling our flight. On the way out, I smiled at the elderly ladies, thanked them again, and honestly told them how wonderful I found the view. They were delighted and smiled back.
The old photos on the wall
In the accommodation, the electricity still hadn’t returned. We found accommodation in Santiago that actually offered free breakfast (the only place in Santiago that did!) and booked it for 5 days, ensuring at least one meal a day. Afterward, I settled into one of the rocking chairs in the courtyard with a book, one of my favorite activities in this country because it cost nothing, didn’t require electricity (at least during the day), and the rocking chairs were really comfortable. The hosts were also sitting in the courtyard, and we struck up a conversation. Their names were Virgen and Boris. Virgen seemed like a diva. She fanned herself with a pretty fan, and when she laughed, she theatrically threw her head back. I liked her style, and we hit it off instantly. Boris was a tall, slim man with a warm, friendly smile. Mostly, he let Virgen do the talking and simply nodded in agreement. They also had a dog named Perrita. Perrita was 16 years old and both blind and deaf. She stumbled around the house without any orientation and got startled at every opportunity. Virgen adored this dog and every time Perrita stumbled past us, she would call out, “Perrita, my beauty!” fanning herself theatrically as she did. I started to tell them about our journey and how we had finally rescheduled our flight today. Once again, there was that look of resignation in Virgen’s and Boris’s eyes. Prices had risen from one CUP to 20 or higher, and the quality of goods had deteriorated. As harsh as it sounds, they asked us to please tell everyone in Germany not to come to Cuba. The people here have nothing, and if the government loses its foreign currency, maybe the people in positions of power will learn from it. I also mentioned our unsuccessful attempt to get Euros from the international bank. Virgen looked at me in surprise: “They didn’t give you Euros? Everything is really going downhill here.” We stayed on the topic of currency for a while, and I asked Virgen how Cubans managed to obtain Euros. Usually, most Cubans would receive dollars from relatives in the United States. However, since you could only pay with Euros in the MLC Stores, they would take the dollars to the bank, where they had to exchange them into Euros. However, taxes and fees were deducted, so they wouldn’t receive the full amount. They would never physically hold these Euros because they would be loaded directly onto their bank cards, incurring taxes and fees again. With these bank cards, they could then shop in the MLC Stores. Oh, and what happened to the Euro banknotes that people exchanged on the streets and then took to the bank? They must go somewhere. “They disappear,” Virgen said, giving me a meaningful look. I asked how it was for them: did they receive their foreign currency through renting on Airbnb? Virgen shook her head and explained that this was just a side income because we were the first batch of tourists to come into the country after the pandemic. Before that, they had to live on something else. Virgen gestured to the wall where old photos of a young man grinned happily into the camera. That was her son. He had fled to the USA at some point and now lives in New Jersey, from where he supports his parents with US dollars. It’s a double-edged sword because on the one hand, the two of them can guarantee their survival this way. On the other hand, it also means that they might never see their son again because once he enters Cuba, he can’t easily return to the USA, and Virgen and Boris, as Cuban citizens, have no freedom to travel, especially not to the USA. She continued to fan herself while sentimentally looking at the photos on the wall. My throat tightened.
What will await us in Santiago?
Nach ungefähr 11 Stunden kehrte endlich der Strom zurück, und ich ging zurück in unser Zimmer. Kurz darauf klopfte Virgen an unserer Tür. “Nathalie, komm schnell! In Santiago gehen sie auf die Straße!” Sie zeigte mir verwackelte Handyvideos von Menschen, die wütend auf der Straße protestierten. “Aber wir fahren doch morgen nach Santiago…”, sagte ich. Virgen schaute mich an: “Bist du sicher, dass ihr morgen nach Santiago wollt? Vor kurzem war hier eine Niederländerin, die ähnliche Probleme hatte wie ihr. Sie ist nach Santiago gefahren und stand zwei Tage später wieder hier vor der Tür. In Santiago gibt es nichts: Kein Essen, kein Trinken und nun auch noch Proteste.” Was sollten wir tun? Ich ging zu Kevin und erklärte ihm die Lage. Wir überlegten hin und her, aber unsere Mägen knurrten, und das gebuchte Zimmer mit Frühstück war einfach zu verlockend. Wir beschlossen also trotzdem zu fahren. Als hätte Virgen das Klagelied unserer Mägen gehört, schaute sie mich an und fragte: “Was habt ihr heute eigentlich gegessen?” “Na ja, wir hatten heute Burger in einem kleinen Restaurant, und Kevin hatte heute früh noch ein paar eingelegte Früchte.” “Und was habt ihr gestern gegessen?” “Peso-Pizza.” Virgen machte eine divenhafte Geste der Empörung. “Das kann doch nicht sein, dass ihr euch hier von Burger und Pizza ernährt. Ihr braucht etwas Richtiges.” Sie zerrte mich in ihre Küche und holte einige Behälter aus dem Kühlschrank. Darin befanden sich schwarze Bohnen kubanischer Art und gedämpfte Yucca. Sie füllte etwas in eine Schüssel ab und stellte sie in die Mikrowelle. Dann drückte sie mir einen Löffel und die Schüssel in die Hand. “Und jetzt geh zu deinem Mann und esst mal etwas Richtiges Kubanisches.” Ich war absolut überwältigt von dieser Herzlichkeit. Die beiden hatten doch selbst kaum etwas, und dennoch bestand Virgen darauf, mit uns zu teilen. Das war mit Abstand das beste Essen, das wir hier in Kuba hatten.
The next morning, we woke up early to be at the bus terminal on time. We said goodbye to Virgen and Boris, whom I had really grown fond of. Perrita stumbled aimlessly around our legs. Together, we took a farewell photo, and Virgen waved to us from the door until we were out of sight.
