a Cuban writer's story

outdoor bookstore in Old Havana

We just returned from our third trip to Cuba.  Since I've blogged about Cuba twice before, including our travels from Santiago de Cuba on the east end of the island to Havana and the Vinales Valley on the west, this time I will focus on people's lives and stories and the different views of U.S./Cuba relations held by Americans and Cubans.  Things are changing fast in Cuba in some ways and in others, there is no change.  Above all, Cubans, particularly government officials, value their independence from the U.S.  At the same time, every Cuban we talked to would love to come to the U.S., at least for a visit.

sunset over lake in SE Cuba

This is the first of several stories I'll tell over the next few days.

One person we met is a writer and poet.  He has been very active in negotiating with government officials to gain more artistic freedom for writers, artists, musicians and dancers.  Perhaps because Cubans have such a restricted life, they put enormous energy into their creative lives.

This writer, whom I’ll call Jose, but which isn’t his real name, is highly regarded in Cuba for his work on behalf of writers and artists.  His life is so circumscribed by poverty that he has turned to intellectual pursuits to give his life meaning amidst severe deprivation.  He seems to be very sad because of all his dreams that he knows he’ll never realize since they go beyond Cuba to a world he can’t afford to access.

ration book issued to every Cuban family to buy basic goods

He would love to travel outside Cuba, particularly to New York, but he’ll never be able to afford to apply for a U.S. visa ($160), much less buy a plane ticket even to Miami on the new and much cheaper scheduled flights between the U.S. and Cuba.  His dream is to experience New York’s cultural life, to walk the streets where artists show their work, visit the city’s great museums, wander through the bookstores, talk to fellow writers, even if only for a few days.  There is no chance he would overstay his visa because his wife needs his care and his grandson is his treasure.  But, besides the prohibitive cost of applying for a visa, his chances of actually getting one are near zero, especially now.

When I asked Jose what I could bring him and his family, he asked for vitamins because their diet is so poor.  I am guessing he makes about $10 to $12 per month, which he supplements with an occasional job translating books from English into Spanish.  Even in Cuba, this doesn’t buy much, meat on rare occasions, little in the way of fresh fruits and vegetables (which are in amazingly short supply in Cuba), mostly rice and beans which are subsidized by the government.

Bodega--ration store with very limited goods

Jose has published many articles, books of poetry, and anthologies.  He particularly enjoys the book fairs that attract hundreds of thousands of Cubans to Havana and other cities.  We were in Havana for part of their huge book fair this year, the only time Cubans can buy books from other countries.  The crowds were enormous, waiting for buses back into the city late into the evening.  This is one of the premier events in Cuba, not just for intellectuals, but for average citizens who want a chance to read about the world outside their island.

I’ve seen booksellers in Havana’s main plaza with their used books spread out on tables under the trees.  The government publishes some books every year, but because of the U.S. embargo, can’t get high quality paper on which to print the books, so they’re pretty fragile.  Nonetheless, Cuba’s many book lovers hover over the books, old and new, and the magazines, mostly several years old and extremely limited, looking for a bargain they can afford.

In the past, Jose has traveled under sponsorship to 10 countries, something he’s very proud of.  Literary organizations in Europe and Latin America have paid his way to teach and speak on his writing and that of other Cuban authors.  He doesn’t think he’ll have that opportunity again, and that, too, makes him sad.

family home in need of major repairs

He told us he’d love to have a big house.  He and his wife, his son and daughter-in-law, and his grandson all share their tiny house.  He says he’ll never have a big house, but is very happy to have his family together even in a cramped space.  His biggest worry is his inability to provide adequately for his family, but he acknowledges that he is doing everything he can given the lack of work in Cuba, so that gives him some peace.

We had lunch with Jose in one of his city’s best paladars (privately-owned restaurants).  He told us he never went to a paladar because they were all way too expensive.  Our lunch was about $10 per person, including way too much food as well as several beverages apiece, but that is far beyond what most Cubans can afford.  So, it is mostly foreigners and a few well-connected Cubans who patronize these establishments.  The families who get government licenses to open these restaurants can make quite a bit of money, far beyond what the average Cuban earns, and that is creating considerable unease within the Cuban government, which prefers to have everyone on the same economic level.  The paladars and the privately-owned bed and breakfasts are testament to the longing of Cubans to build better lives and the energy they put into that when they have the opportunity.

more prosperous families' homes

We left Jose after a wonderful conversation, standing on the crumbling sidewalk, waving to us as we departed in our van for another Cuban city.