​Havana, ooh na-na: First Day in Cuba

What do you think about the idea of traveling alone in Cuba? I believed it’d be an exciting adventure until the day before my departure; I started questioning if I was out of my mind. Where did my courage come from when I decided to be on my own for 13 days on a far-flung Caribbean island that I knew nothing about?

Now I am sitting at home sorting out the photos and videos that I took in Cuba, reviving the memories of the past two weeks in the communist country. Beyond an exciting adventure, the trip was a fulfilling experience. I learnt so much about the country and its people through daily encounters and deep conversations with locals and travelers alike.

Because of Trump’s policy on Cuba, I took a longer route from Hong Kong to Havana via Madrid, making it 24 hours of flying in total. The sun began setting when I landed in José Martí International Airport. It gave me peace of mind when the driver arranged by my accommodation greeted me at the arrival hall with a beaming smile and helped me with money exchange. While there’re a few hotels in the city center, many independent travelers, like me, would choose to stay in a casa particular – home of the locals. To become a government-registered casa for tourists, they have to provide at least a bed, hot water and air-conditioning. Once you have checked in, it’s compulsory for them to contact the government within a certain amount of time.

While the Internet has become our daily essential for years, it’s still a luxury for Cuban people. If you want to connect with the outside world, you’ve to purchase a Wi-Fi card (1CUC/USD for an hour) at Etecsa office, and then look for Wi-Fi spots, which are usually situated in parks or 5-star hotels. The Wi-Fi speed and stability are set to test your patience but you’d get used to it soon. Sitting on a bench in the dark, I spent an hour concentrating on my phone, making sure I could answer all the messages, check my email and get the information I need before time ran out.

On the next morning, after an enormous breakfast (5CUC) prepared by my host, I set out to discover the charm of Old Havana, where most of the attractions and actions are packed. A paradise for photographers, the historic capital is filled with artistic colonial architecture, vintage American cars, and beautifully decorated plazas. Music was played everywhere and it’s not difficult to see locals dancing to the beats in the street. For ladies, you may feel a bit annoyed as you’d be reminded how beautiful you’re every ten minutes. If you need some confidence boost, Havana is the best place to be! Don’t worry…Cubans are generally nice, warm and kind. You can just give them minimal replies or ignore them if you like.

Though there’s so much to observe and take in, I still missed the feeling of having someone to talk to and share the journey with. Things happen when you’re least expected. After wandering through narrow streets for almost two hours, I was struck by a heavy rainstorm all of a sudden. It’s not wise to walk even though I had an umbrella in my bag. Without options, I took shelter under the nearest roof I could find. And from that moment on, I started lowering my guard and interacting with locals using my pidgin Spanish (It’s quite rude to ignore someone who’s going to stand next to you for the next hour). Also waiting for the storm to pass was Peter, a 28-year-old black guy who just moved to the city from somewhere North of the country. After chitchatting for a while, I asked him if he knew somewhere to learn salsa dance. “My mum teaches salsa. I can help you ask her and you’re welcome to have dinner with us if you want.” I couldn’t believe I agreed to it.

Walking through a dingy, narrow corridor and climbing up a steep staircase of rusty steel, I entered a small unit with merely two rocking chairs and a cabinet. He lived with his two brothers, stepfather, and mother who greeted me with a kiss on my cheek. It was so nice of her to offer me a plate of congee soup mixed with chicken, potatoes, and vegetables, but the one-hour salsa class cost way more expensive than the professional one that I could find in the city center later on. I don’t think she intended to rip me off; just poverty can make people very aggressive in earning money, especially from tourists. This happens a lot in Cuba.

On my way home, I kept thinking about what Peter told me about their lives. Cubans love their country but they also crave for a change. Majority of them only earn 20CUC a month on average; they’re not allowed to travel outside the country (later I learnt that they can pay around 1200CUC to apply for visa. But there are high chances that the government would reject it and they’d then lose all the money); and communicating with tourists is a crime that can put them into jail. Even so, some intrepid souls still spend everything they have on visa application or even risk their lives to sneak out of the country illegally by boat. The law obviously cannot stop them from talking to foreigners but they’re ready to flee when the police are in sight.

On my last day in Havana, I came across an old artist who showed me a painting he’s working on. “It’s a house in Cuba and inside it contains a little boat, with which we can set sail and meet the world.” At that moment, I realize even if they are grounded, their dreams still fly high.

Points of Interest:

El Capitolio