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The trade and economic embargo held against Cuba by the USA has lasted for some decades now. America has prohibited American companies and their subsidiaries trading with Cuban entities and prohibited its citizens from spending money in Cuba. (That’s right - I’ve always thought that US citizens were prohibited from visiting Cuba - however the various pieces of legislation that piece together the embargo actually only make it a crime to SPEND money in Cuba. SO for all those Americans aching for some April sun in Cuba I guess you just need to find a philanthropic friend to pay your WHOLE way.) As a result I naively thought that this may mean that American culture may be less prevalent in this tropical island nation. Disappointingly, as I jumped into the cab at the airport bound for La Habana the first song on the radio was not some great piece by the Buena Vista Social Club (I guess they are still touring Guatemala) but the great American ditty “Hotel California” by the Eagles. It was followed by Toni Braxton’s “Un-break My Heart” - a stirring melody that provided a great soundtrack as I viewed for the first time the crumbling streets of Havana.

Che is the New Coke

Patrick Gatland
2006-08-21 14:41:45

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reminded of the amazing deeds of this talented kangaroo. Apparently Skippy and his pals were a BIG part of the revolution in Cuba a while back.

After a busy first night in Cuba - walking along the Malecon, mojitos and salsa - we went headlong into finding somewhere to live. Although it is supposedly easy to find a
family to live with after all of the stories of hustlers, hidden commissions and under the table payments we were meant to be wary and we pounded the pavement in search of somewhere cheap and central to live. This is when we happened upon Jennifer - the crazy Canadian who stopped us in the street and demanded to find out where we were going and whether our intention was to stay “with that evil woman” in the building we were heading towards. That was our intention. However, Jennifer reliably informed us that this woman was Havana’s number one hustler and that we should stay away from her. Needless to say, I was skeptical as Jennifer promised to take us to where she was staying and organize accommodation on our behalf. Having never before relied on the kindness of Canadians I whispered to Tenna and Pia that we had to “wait for the sting” and then reluctantly followed her for a few blocks, past dozens of those fantastic 1950’ cars that adorn every guidebook to Fideland.

Our decision to follow Jennifer ended up completely changing the flavour of our trip and I don’t think I have ever used the phrase A VERY life-like Che battles though the jungles in Havana's Museum of the Revolution. “hear comes the sting” so much in my life. And, a few days later, as Jen and some random Cuban guy led us 200 metres into a cave filled with water and turned the torches out I couldn’t get two things out of my head - the music piece “the Entertainer” and that awful movie “Wolfe Creek” where all those tourists stupidly trust the psychopathic murderer and end up paying very dearly for doing so. But whether Jen was in it for ...