Forbidden Cuba

Last Updated: February 19, 2006
Forbidden Cuba

Visits are possible to a fascinating, long-restricted land
By Rosemary McClure
Special to The Morning Call

HAVANA, Cuba | Father John Bakas walked the crowded cobblestone streets
of Old Havana, dined on spicy red beans and rice at an outdoor cafe and
led vesper services at a 2-year-old Greek Orthodox Church near Havana
Bay. Several members of his congregation, St. Sophia Greek Orthodox
Cathedral in Los Angeles, joined him on the November trip, his third to
Cuba.

At the same time, Kim Zimmerman, a Los Angeles pediatrician on her first
trip to Cuba, was visiting the capital with a group of healthcare
workers on a tour designed by Global Exchange, a San Francisco
human-rights organization. She watched young dancers in colorful folk
costumes swirl across a makeshift dance floor at a hospital for Down
syndrome children, then joined them for a few moments, earning hugs and
broad smiles from the troupe.

Bakas and Zimmerman were among an estimated 40,000 U.S. residents who
visited the off-limits island of Cuba last year. Despite tough new
sanctions from the Bush administration, about 2 million tourists
traveled to Cuba in 2005. Most were from Canada and Europe, but U.S.
citizens came, too.

Some, like Bakas and Zimmerman, visited legally on authorized tours, but
many did not, defying U.S. regulations by flying to Havana from Canada,
Jamaica, the Bahamas or Mexico.

Regardless of how they arrive, most tourists are drawn by Cuba's
legendary mystique. It is an intoxicating destination for travelers, a
place of fine rum and cigars; sugary-white Caribbean beaches;
attractive, friendly people; unbelievable '50s kitsch; potent music and
dance, and a wealth of untouched Spanish Colonial architecture.

Once a U.S. playground, Cuba has been forbidden fruit for its giant
neighbor to the north since the U.S. trade embargo began more than four
decades ago. For some, that makes it all the more inviting.

When I visited in November — journalists are allowed to travel to Cuba —
I interviewed tourists who were there legally and some who traveled
there without U.S. permission. After I returned home, I spoke with
others in the latter category, whose names I have not used because they
could be subject to fines and prosecution.

''I think everyone who really wants to go to Cuba finds a way to get
there,'' said a San Pedro woman who visited Havana last summer, entering
by way of Mexico.

Welcome to yesteryear

The Havana of long ago isn't hard to find. I needed only to step outside
José Martí International Airport to vault backward in time. Old
Studebakers, DeSotos and Oldsmobiles were everywhere, their horns
honking and black smoke belching. In town, the 75-year-old Hotel
Nacional, onetime host to notables such as Winston Churchill and Frank
Sinatra, overlooked the blue waters of the Straits of Florida in serene
elegance. And down along the 7.5-mile seafront boulevard — the Malecón —
couples embraced or strolled arm-in-arm.

But that night, when I heard a conga drum and the words, ''Babalú,
babalú, babalú,'' I really sensed I'd entered a time warp. Desi Arnaz
wasn't here, but the Tropicana was, still entertaining guests on its
stage under the stars just as it has since 1939. Six platforms from
rooftop to aisle were full of swirling dancers in gauzy costumes, many
parading hats that could have doubled as hotel chandeliers. Men toked on
fat cigars, couples mixed rum-and-cola drinks at their tables and guests
swayed to the steamy rhythms of the music.

As my week in Cuba unfolded, I explored Havana on foot and by pedicab,
horse-drawn carriage and taxi. The city swept by in indelible images:
live chickens being hawked by habaneros to earn extra cash; front-stoop
musicians jamming for their neighbors; young ballerinas practicing
pirouettes in a storefront studio; newlyweds smiling broadly as they
rolled down the Malecón atop a gleaming '52 Chevy convertible, the
bride's long white veil streaming behind her in the wind.

Like most tourists, I stayed in Old Havana, La Habana Vieja, the
historical core. It was founded in 1514 — more than 50 years before St.
Augustine, Fla., the oldest continuously occupied city in the U.S.

Old Havana is a warren of narrow cobblestone avenues lined with Baroque
buildings that have changed little since the 17th and 18th centuries.
The street life is vibrant, the surroundings impressive. One of my first
stops was the fifth-floor room at the Hotel Ambos Mundos, where Ernest
Hemingway worked on his 1940 novel ''For Whom the Bell Tolls.''

My self-guided walking tour took me to Plaza de Armas, the city's oldest
square, a beautifully landscaped park where booksellers barter with
tourists and residents. I walked a few hundred yards farther to Castillo
de la Real Fuerza, the oldest stone fort in the Americas, and listened
as a guide explained an archeological dig and restoration project underway.

Restoration — I heard the word often in La Habana Vieja. During the last
decade charming hotels, cafes and shops have emerged from the disheveled
ruins of once-beautiful mansions.

Neglected for more than four decades, Havana is rife with imperfections:
Sewage runs in the streets; water pipes won't work; abandoned
structures, some converted into slum housing, collapse overnight. Thomas
Paul, a Tucson fireman/paramedic visiting with the Global Exchange
group, said much of the city would be condemned if it were in the U.S.

When Fidel Castro's rebel army won victory in 1959, life changed
irreversibly for the Cuban people; it changed again in 1990 when the
Soviet Union departed, taking its financial subsidies with it.

Cubans have little cash — incomes range from about $10 to $18 a month —
and supplies are hard to come by. A ration system allows each person
eight eggs, 6 pounds of rice, 3 pounds of beans and 2 pounds of sugar
monthly. But Cubans also have universal healthcare and an effective
education system.

Despite the economic hardships, residents have a contagious energy and
enthusiasm. They savor life, are warm to visitors and are passionate
about their famous city. They're good-humored too, sharing jokes and
stories about life in a communist regime. ''Havana has 2 million
people,'' one man told me, ''and 1 million police.''

http://www.mcall.com/travel/all-cubaledefeb19,0,2218968.story