By Mark Johnson. The
Charlotte Observer. Posted at 9:52 p.m. EST Saturday, December 23, 2000
HAVANA -- The Malecon, the 20th century seawall that runs along the Gulf of
Mexico in Cuba's capital, looks like the ideal jogging course, until you get up
close.
With wide sidewalks, a glorious view and ocean spray, the Malecon runs for 4
kilometers along Havana's north rim, but the walkway is riddled with potholes.
Some sections, up to 50 yards long, are so coated in oily discharge that
traction is nearly impossible.
Along the wall, amorous couples snuggle, but every few blocks a posted
police officer reinforces the image of a totalitarian society.
Moving around and functioning in Cuba is as full of contrasts as the nation
itself: opulent and decaying, socialism with the American dollar as currency,
16th century Spanish baroque mixed with Stalinesque apartment towers.
A recent N.C. trade delegation got a close look.
Despite an ostensibly egalitarian political structure, Cuba is starkly
stratified. Those who operate on dollars - legalized as currency in 1993 - shop
in hard currency stores, eat in decent restaurants and ride taxis. Those with
ration cards and pesos confront food shortages in the peso stores, turn their
living rooms into restaurants in the evening to make money.
Taxis run the gamut from a Mercedes to Soviet-era Ladas to some of the
still-running 1950s American classics.
Government buildings marked with sterile titles or revolutionary slogans sit
next to thriving restaurants pulsing with salsa combos.
Tourists move about largely unencumbered. Because foreigners bring in the
bulk of the nation's income, the police make sure they aren't harmed. Safe
streets - the upside to communism!
The greatest threat to tourists is the sales job. Those Cubans who aren't
selling handcrafted maracas or Che Guevara revolutionary berets are offering
bicycle rickshaw rides, black market cigars or young women themselves.
"I want to be the one," a woman at a nightclub said in Spanish,
referring to the practice of hiring the same prostitute for several days.
Because of the nearly 37-year-old U.S. embargo, Cuban businesses will not
accept U.S. credit cards or traveler's checks, leaving a Yankee to operate on
cash only.
As for the World Wide Web, Cuba is connected, sort of. While the Melia
Cohiba tourist hotel, for example, provided Internet access in its business
center, the non-Pentium chip computers were so low-wattage that calling up a Web
page was always frustrating and often impossible.
Perhaps the most glaring contrast appeared on store shelves, where buyers
could pick up Marlboro cigarettes, bottles of Pepsi or U.S.-made stereo
equipment. While embargo supporters in the United States contend it applies
pressure on Castro, and Cuban government officials decry the pain of what they
call a blockade, American goods are pouring through.
On close inspection, it seems the embargo isn't holding up much better than
the Malecon seawall. | 