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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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Consequently I timed my days so that I was out of the house by 8:47 AM and not back until 5:30 always certain that I had evaded my interrogators once more.

Luckily for me and my “Evade Cuba’s Public Servants” Plan Havana is full of interesting sites and is probably the most beautiful city I have ever visited. The mix of colonial architecture, tropical location and revolutionary propaganda means that everywhere you turn there is something interesting to watch, explore or involve yourself in.

Our first real night out in Havana was with Jennifer and two of her Cuban friends. Michael and Michel were two guys that Jen had met at some hip-hop club some months earlier. Michel was “in the rap business” and Michael was am ex-physiotherapist who was now making ends meet by selling clothes on the street. He explained that this was more profitable than working in the Cuban health care system.

We downed a bottle of rum in Jen’s room and then caught an old style Chevy down to the club where we were planning to watch a Reggaeton act named Eddy K (one of the biggest in Cuba). However, our timing was bad because it was the same night as the final of the World Series Baseball Competition and Cuba was playing Japan. (Interestingly, the World Series was being played in the US and many Cuban-American politicians had attempted to block Cuba participating in the competition but were unsuccessful.) Consequently the club wouldn’t be open until the game finished. As some of you may know, baseball is a long, involved and primarily boring game so we spent the next few hours standing in Havana’s central park watching Cuba lose the World Series while drinking rum with several thousand Cubans. Before the end of the match we went in search of food. Out of nowhere Michel and Michael (supposedly two best friends) began beating each other up and Jen demanded that we flee the scene (and the fighting Cubans) immediately. As we fled, Jen confessed that ...