So this post might be a little more detailed than the others, simply because there’s a good chance that none of you have ever visited Cuba, and there’s a pretty good chance very few of you ever will. I’m not sure how much everyone knows about the issues in Cuba, but this blog post might be somewhat controversial, so I just want to be clear: These are my opinions based on my experiences, and they don’t reflect the opinion of Semester at Sea, the Institute for Shipboard Education, or the US as a whole. Now that that is out of the way, be prepared for me to be relatively candid. But first, I’ll give you a little bit on Cuban history, so we’re all on the same page. Feel free to skip over this next paragraph (it’ll be a little dry) but keep in mind that it might also be a little useful.
According to Western culture, where we like to believe that we ‘discovered’ everything, in 1492 Columbus “discovered” Cuba and claimed it as a Spanish colony and it remained a Spanish colony until the Spanish-American War in 1898. From 1898-1902 Cuba was under US control. In 1902 Cuba was ruled by the Batista regime, a US supported dictatorship which was the cause for terribly poor conditions for the Cuban people. Fast forward to 1958-1961 and “The Revolution” where two key instances which put our buddy Fidel Castro in charge of Cuba. Castro and exiled revolutionaries returned from Mexico, where they had been training (A movement known as “The 26th of July”), overthrew the Batista government and took over control of Cuba. They established a socialist society with a ruling communist party and the propaganda is still seen today. One of the more well-known events in this time period was the Bay of Pigs invasion which essentially involved 1500 American trained Cuban’s who had fled to America. The US trained and supplied these troops and returned them to Cuba to attempt to over throw Castro’s regime, but their attempt failed and fueled the Anti-American sentiment. Now, the US embargo on Cuba is a piece of legislation enacted basically to establish that the US government doesn’t recognize the Cuban government as a legitimate government, and therefore essentially eliminated all possible relations with them. The embargo is a source of a lot of contention and even more misinformed opinions. One last important event- the “Cuban Five” are 3 (There were originally 5) Cubans convicted of espionage in 1998 in the US, where three are still held in prison- some serving life sentences.
The embargo also applies to tourism from the US. I’ve heard about a million and one different versions of the official rule, but essentially the only way you, an American citizen, are allowed to visit Cuba is through a special permit granted for educational or people-to-people travel. This permit took years and years to get and Semester at Sea is one of the very few institutions that are allowed to travel to this little Caribbean island. Since I got a stamp on my passport that says “CUBA”, every time I leave the country I’ll have to carry with me a document from the University of Virginia explaining why I was in Cuba and verifying that I was granted official permission to visit. So it’s kind of a big deal.
Phew, okay. Moving on. So before we even pull into Cuba, we are joined, as usual, by a professor and an interport port student to give us insight into the Cuban culture. I must say, it was interesting how extraordinarily upbeat the student, Willie, was. Usually the students have lots of good things to say about their country, but they are also very candid and open about the negative aspects, where Willie basically had nothing bad at all to say. Cuba was portrayed as a utopia of sorts, and the problems they face all come from the embargo or other restrictions the US unjustly places on Cuba. The professor joined my economics class to discuss the Cuban economy. During the Q & A, he quickly became defensive, and when asked if they received any income from the oil that can be found in the Gulf of Mexico, he told us that the US makes it entirely impossible to get access to that oil. He went on to explain to us that Cuba was unable to receive medical supplies and pharmaceuticals due to the embargo, since it would be too expensive to import from a country overseas. To add to the surprises, he told us that Cuba was on the US’s terrorist list, which is released annually, and that has essentially blacklisted them. By the time we pulled into Cuba, we were all a little salty with the US government’s irrational response to Cuba. I mean, we were kind of being giant assholes to this little country, and all they wanted was some medicine and a hug!
After our ship got cleared (which took quite a while), we met in the Union and were officially received by Cuba!! Our Academic Dean and Cuban government officials addressed the shipboard community and we expressed our gratitude for the opportunity. To get the permission to visit, we were required to spend a day doing educational and cultural exchanges with the University of Havana. Please imagine trying to load 650 people onto busses and transport them to the University, keep them corralled, and then get the back onto the ship, which means processing us all through security. It’s a logistical nightmare, but a requirement nonetheless. So after our official welcome, we were called by hallway to load onto the 18 busses waiting for us in the terminal. Kelsey and I were one of the first few people off the ship, and the scene that greeted us was easily one of the strangest I’ve ever encountered.
We walked down the stairs and had our temperature taken as a screening for Ebola (That’s apparently still a thing.) and then walked through the ship’s metal detectors and onto the stairs that lead out. Taking my first step out into Cuban air, I was bombarded by flashing lights and shouts. The entire terminal was filled with press; video cameras rolling and cameras clicking all around me. My classmates were pulled aside for interviews as we went through Cuban security and loaded onto the busses. Because we had to proceed as a group, we waited for the rest of the 18 busses to fill, then met up with our police escorts, who guided us to the University. Again, it became a waiting game as we waited for all of the busses to get on the same page and unload at the University steps. Hundreds of Cubans had come out for the event, and chants had broken out in the section of students like we were at a heated basketball game. We were corralled and kept for a welcome speech and then told that we were allowed to ascend the stairs and enter University grounds. Kelsey and I were the first SAS students to walk up the stairs, and we were immediately embraced into hugs, while the students kissed both of our cheeks and handed us posters. The posters were about the Cuban five, but since none of us really understood that issue, we just rolled up the posters and moved along. Their enthusiasm was overwhelming and it was immediately clear that we were in the presence of some of the most welcoming people in the world.
The university courtyard was filled with dancers and speakers and venders and the air was electrified. Essentially, Cubans saw Americans once a year; when Semester at Sea visits. My friends and I raced towards the stage, where key speakers addressed the crowds and we all answered with bellowing shouts and rounds of applause that never ended. At each mention of better US-Cuban relations, the crowd went wild, shouting and waving our hands in agreement. Our academic deans shook hands and the students, barely a divide between the two schools, lost their minds, looking more like the crowd at a concert than a crowd at an interschool meeting. Completely caught up in the heat of the moment, Semester at Sea kids where immediately in love with our final port. The press that greeted us when we disembarked had followed us and some were now trained on the speakers, while others scanned the crowd, resting briefly on each smiling American face.
We broke out into small groups (200 or so students per group) to go listen to University of Havana lecturers discuss various topics. Obviously, a friend and I had stalked the Economics professor and closely followed as she weaved her way through the crowd into the lecture hall. She was incredibly educated, blowing me away with her assessment of the Cuban economy and the struggles that they’re facing as they attempt to change their economic system. From the issue of their current two-currency system to the struggles of introducing the first private businesses, she fielded our questions amazingly well. However, even in my current euphoric, Cuba-loving state, one of her answers struck me funny. When one of my professors asked her why she believed Cuba could be a successful socialist economy, when so many Eastern European countries failed, she replied that she believed they would succeed because of the Cuban people. Personal opinion alert: Naïve. I have to ask what exactly makes her believe the Cuban people are different enough to make something a success when so many other dedicated countries have attempted similar models. Dedication and heart won’t realistically drag an entire country out of overwhelming poverty.
After the lectures ended (She, too, had brought up the Cuban 5), we all gathered in the courtyard to listen to Cuban students sing, watch them dance, and dance alongside them. Finally we all boarded the busses and headed back to Big Blue M.V. Thankfully, Kelsey and I were in one of the first busses, so we only had to wait for 20 minutes before we went through security and got back on the ship, but the students on buses 17 and 18 were waiting for almost 2 hours before they got on. We got lunch (I splurged and got a pizza: I do not regret that decision) and then headed for a little nap before our diplomatic briefing at 4pm. We met in the Union and listened to the Deputy Consulate of the US Interest Section in Cuba. This poor guy was assaulted with unfair and biased questions for an hour. Having only gotten the Cuban side of the argument, we were all under the impression that we were well informed. Basically the entire shipboard community, myself included, was 2 seconds away from throwing on a Castro t shirt and waving the Cuban flag while throwing tomatoes at US representatives. One girl raised her hand, snatched the mic, and accusingly asked, “How can we proclaim that we are such strong supporters of basic human rights when we have an embargo in place that results in the Cuban people unable to receive medical aid?!” She smirked at the end and I immediately hated her without really knowing why. Later I realized that she was blatantly disrespecting someone who was here as a courtesy to us, and he deserved an apology (After the briefing, several students and faculty stayed after to actually apologize to him). But in response to her question, he informed us that the embargo explicitly doesn’t include agricultural goods, medical supplies, pharmaceuticals, etc. All that talk about how we don’t allow them to buy food and medicine from us is a serious skew on the facts. In reality, we give them every option to purchase from us; they just have been unable to afford it. Because socialism is not a viable, sustainable, economically stable, model. Next someone asked how we could fight so hard for human rights in Cuba when we were facing issues like the one currently raging in Ferguson. PLEASE EXPLAIN TO ME HOW THAT RELATES TO THE ECONOMIC ISSUES IN CUBA. Our diplomat calmly responded that the US isn’t perfect, we can all agree, however that doesn’t mean that he will stop fighting for basic human rights in a country where police brutality is a daily occurrence. I highly commend this guy and his ability to calmly handle 600 misinformed college kids spitting indirect insults his way.
After our diplomatic briefing, our day pretty much ended. Kelsey and I headed up to the dining hall and did homework. Yes, I did homework while in port. No, I am not happy about it. But we did get some sympathy from the wait staff, and once the last group of students had filtered out, our favorite waiter came over and offered us left over spring rolls from the fancy dining that the Head Hanchos had just had in the room next door. I happily agreed, and since Kelsey is gluten free, I single handedly inhaled all 6 spring rolls, while trying to remember to chew and swallow between “Thank you”s. Then, about 10 minutes later, Fredrick’s (He’s also the waiter that got me a bag of rice for me water-loving phone.) face lit up and he rushed towards the small cabinet at the end of the dining hall and returned with a plate of somewhat melted ice cream cake. Looking apologetic, he told us that he meant to give it to us earlier, but there were still other students eating, so he hid it away and had since forgot. Because we have no real standards anymore, we happily snagged the melted ice cream and thanked him again. He was off for the night, so there was only one waiter left milling around cleaning up after us. When we finally returned the empty plates, he asked if I liked wine. Caught off guard by the question, I had to ask him to repeat it before basically shrieking with excitement. I love wine!! (I am my mother’s child.) As I walked away, I heard him say that he supposed he could share, and out of a small plastic coffee cup, he poured me a little glass of red wine. We cheersed as he told me that this was some of the nicest wine we’ve had on board, since it was the left over stuff from all of the ISE big shots and the Cuban diplomats. Did I mention that I love wine? He finished off his cup and showed me how to wash it in the bucket of chlorine so that no one would know that he had snuck us wine, and suddenly I wasn’t so upset about doing homework.
Wow, this blog post is getting lengthy and I’m only done with day one. The rest will be a little shorter, with some emphasis on certain points. But obviously you can always ask me specific questions because this is one port that I love talking about.
Day 2: Kelsey and I signed up for a Semester at Sea field program that was a visit to the Bay of Pigs and a crocodile farm. The visit to the crocodile farm came first, and it was awesome! We took a little boat out and the best way I can describe the little rickety thing that they used would be: Imagine going out boating on some small lake in rural Wisconsin. Now imagine a little boat chillin’ in the middle of the lake, with an old man drinking a beer and fishing and patching up his boat with duct tape. That’s basically what this boat was like. At one point, the driver pushed us aside, lifted one of the seats, and muttered “un problema” as he tightened on of the bolts. Excuse me? No! No problems! But none of us ended up drowning, even though we were soaked and looked like we had gone overboard. We saw an alligator fight… I had a really great video of it, but my phone has since broken again…Which has resulted in a seriously depressing lack of pictures from Cuba.
Then we headed to the Bay of Pigs museum. Holy. Hell. What an incredibly strange experience. The entire museum referred to the US as cowardly mercenaries or power-hungry imperialists. This museum made Fox New look unbiased! Any of us would have agreed that the US was acting like a bully, but after the visit to the museum, the bias was so overwhelming that we were actually annoyed by the whole thing. All across the museum were more posters supporting the release of the Cuban 5, which we had now grown to expect everywhere we turned. Since the drive was 3 hours each way, we didn’t get back until dinner time, and by that time we were entirely exhausted from our day, so Kelsey and I immediately passed out.
The next day, I headed to a rural community, which was absolutely astounding and beautiful. Clearly a success story for socialism, the village was a wonderful way to spend the day. We visited an old coffee plantation, handed out toothbrushes at the local preschool and met a local artist, who worked on recycled paper. Ask me to show you the card I got, because it’s so freakin’ weird. But let me just say, the food was beyond delicious! It was family style and consisted of rice, beans, shredded beef, and barbeque chicken, with fresh juice as our drink! I got to sit next to the Cuban student who joined us, and while he was a nice enough kid, I ended up stabbing him. No, seriously. I stabbed him with my fork on multiple occasions because apparently “excuse me reach” isn’t a thing in Cuba, so instead he would just reach across me, uncomfortably close, whenever he needed anything. So close, in fact, that after lifting my fork and eating my bite, I would stab his arm while my fork attempted to return to my plate. Manners are apparently very different between our two cultures.
One the drive back, most kids took a light nap, but I was captivated by the view from my window. The entire country (the drive was over an hour) was startlingly impoverished. Essentially, as one of my professors pointed out, the entire country looked like a favela. Roofs were caved in left and right, while walls continued to crumble. Houses were decayed, with the once bright paint faded and chipped and the windows almost always missing or shattered. People lingered on the sides of the highway, apparently awaiting a bus but since the transportation system was so terrible, they could wait for hours and hours and never catch the bus they needed. Graffiti peppered the cement walls along the road, but it all portrayed the same opinion. All of the graffiti supported the revolution, saying things like “Fidel Siempre!” And “Socialismo o muerte!”, giving us all an eerie feeling as we began to recognize that their society was, for lack of a better word, brainwashed to an extent.
Our last day, I headed out on a Semester at Sea trip with one of my professors to visit local schools. Education is one of Cuba’s most celebrated and advanced areas, so we had pretty high expectations. Even the schools were covered with Cuban 5 posters and, again for lack of a better word, shrines to Fidel and Raul Castro. Even in the preschool class that we visited, the walls had Cuban 5 posters everywhere! We visited a literary museum and were greeted by nearly 20 cameras, which followed us into the museum and videotaped our every move. I would really like to know how many times my face has appeared on the Cuban news over the course of these last few days.
Afterwards, my friends and I wandered around the city, getting souvenirs and churros with the leftover pesos we had. The shopkeepers we met were some of the most friendly and welcoming people I’ve ever encountered, with many of them putting their arms around us and showing us their photo albums, proudly pointing to the daughter/son/girlfriend/boyfriend and telling us that they lived in the States, and they dreamed of moving there someday. One of the shopkeepers showed me a picture of him and his family in front of the Bean, and I almost hugged him. I LOVE CHICAGO, TOO!!! EVERYONE SHOULD LOVE CHICAGO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So that was my time in Cuba. I really, truly hope that someday I can come back with my kids and tell them how different things used to be, but until the Cuban government changes a few things, I don’t see our relations improving in the near future.
As welcoming as the Cuban citizens were, it’s not on my “I would move there” list. They’re amazing people, but their government is, excuse me, bat shit crazy. They get 1 news station and 1 radio station. They aren’t allowed to have an email address until they enter the workforce or enroll in college. They’ll get their first Facebook account when they’re in the third year at university and even then, they’re only allowed to “friend” other Cuban citizens. Police brutality is a common occurrence and the poverty is so extreme that they really don’t have the opportunity to leave. Doctors make $60 a month, whereas doctors that have travelled to Africa to fight Ebola are making $240 per day from WHO. They live in this brainwashed, naïve society, and they don’t even know any better! It was a surreal port; like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It sparked tons and tons of political debates around the ship and we’ve all formed some pretty strong opinions. So if you want the long version of this blog post, with a few more personal opinions mixed in, ask me!
Now the countdown has really begun. As finals get closer, it keeps getting more and more unbelievable that this experience is really ending. I’m really, really homesick and I start crying every time we watch a movie that has a dog in it, but at the same time I’ve been traveling for the last 4 months and it never felt like it would ever end. I don’t want it to end. Hopefully this is little break, and next summer I’ll head out again!
Well, for the last time, I beg you to email me! Adriana.kille.fa14@semesteratsea.org
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