Hey there,
Tyler here, and I am proud to report that I have survived my trip to Cuba. That's right, I went to Cuba, and I did so very much outside the law so don't tell anyone. (Although, Im in Colombia now, so there's not a lot they could do about it.) Ad and I booked a flight from Costa Rica, and got a visa as Costa Ricans. Sneaky, I know.
Here's where it got a little messy. At the airport, we realized that it might be difficult to withdraw money in Cuba, so we decided to do so before we left. She got out a fair amount, but I was only able to withdraw about a hundred dollars. No problem, we thought. Besides, we had lived on much less in Costa Rica, and we were good at budgeting and rationing our resources. When we arrived in Havana, we attempted to engage in that age-old Latin American pasttime of haggling with different taxi drivers to get the lowest price. They wouldn't budge, not one. It was at this point that we began to realize that life is slightly different in a Communist state. Everything, and I mean everything, is regulated by the government. We took a cab and drove to our hostel, which was an old, converted convent in the middle of Havana's historic district. It was 25 a night, which is pretty steep as far as hostels go, but we handed over the money. The desk attendant then informed us that it was 25 per person, and once again, that was the set price all over the country.
A bit concerned at this point, we went back and counted our money. $125 or so for food and shelter while we were on the beach (3 days of our trip). Not too bad, we can do it.
Cuba, apparently, has a double economy, meaning tht they actually have two forms of currency circulating within all of the businesses. One, called Moneda Nacional, is used only by the cubans nationals to buy basic commodities very cheaply. $1 is equal to 25 MNs. The other, called, CUCs, are used only by tourists; $1 is worth less than 1 CUC, and prices are comparable to those in the US, if not more expensive.
Well, the next day, we discovered that we were not able to use the MN at all (we surely don't look Cuban), so things were going to be pricey, not to mention the fact that there is an exit tax of $50 to get out of the country, which was something we were actually looking forward to at this point. Factor in the taxi back to the airport, and we were left with $7 dollars to sleep for 3 days, and eat for 6.
We brought stuff to camp in on the beach, but we found out that if the police didn't harass us all night, we would probably be robbed.
So, no free housing for those three days.
Desperate and hungry, we used a very shady service that gets money from the states to here without a paper trail. We had money sent from home to "some guy" in the Dominican Republic, who (thank God) sent it to Havana. That service took its fair share of the money, but we now had enough to survive.
In the meantime, we spent hours walking around Havana, seeing the sights and talking to Cubans about Fidel, Communism and the like. We met a wonderful group of students from the University of Buffalo who were a Godsend, and even though we had no money, we had a pretty good time.
After the money came through, we went to Varadero, which (according to Ad) is considered to be the #2 beach in the world.
I'd believe it. Crystal clear water, relatively uncrowded, and we were the only 2 gringos for miles.
All in all, I had a great time, but Cuba was not at all what I thought it was going to be. I was picturing this romanticized culture where no one works too much, and everyone comes alive with dancing, music and art at night. Cuba is poor, make no mistake. The embargo has affected the economy greatly, and while no one dies of hunger, no one leaves the island either. They are very proud of the fact that they have resisted American Imperialism for so long, and rightfully so, but the basic rights they have sacrificed in the process have left me very conflicted. It seems that for everything Cuba has done right, they have commited a grave error against humanity as well, to the point that I seem unable to make any sort of moral judgement at all. It is no better of worse than the States, it is simply different.
Anyway, I'm in Colombia now, I'm not in prison for traveling to Cuba, and I'm loving every minute here. Colombians are not the cold, violent people everyone makes them out to be, and Bogota is simply beautiful. I will write more about it later, as things develop.
Hasta,
Tyler
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